Archive of Our Own

Nuer’s known to be a flirt. He knows he’s a flirt, and he’s always been a flirt. Ever since he’d learned what it meant and the effect it had on certain people—his friends, girls, boys, the nice auntie that ran the shop down the street from his house—he’s managed to fluster them one way or another, whether he meant to or not.

His mae calls him a charmer.

Syn calls him annoying.

But that’s only because Nuer’s discovered how fun it is to tease him.

The first time it happened, it wasn’t really intentional. Nuer had simply spoken his mind honestly. And while Nuer has witnessed firsthand how easily Syn blushes, doing it while dating him is a different story.

Who knew he looked so good in red?

1.

The engineering class has another project coming up, so their whole friend group has congregated onto the university’s lawn to bounce ideas off of each other. They’ve been at it for a few hours already, jotting down notes and drawings with the general chatter dispersed in between.

Kuea and Nuchy have their heads bowed together, mumbling. Ton and Jaab have their laptops open. Nuer, exhausted, had taken up residence on Syn’s lap until his boyfriend had to get up to go get changed. His mae was picking him up for a family event right after their session, so he needed to get out of his uniform before she got there. Or so he said.

Since the whole thing with Kuea and Hia Lian has settled, and Nuer has made it very clear where his affections lie, it’s been pretty nice. Now everyone only glares at him when he starts joking about sticking things together with duct tape.

Nuer dozes in a patch of sun regardless, lack of pillow notwithstanding. He’s not sure how long it took between when Syn left and when he returned, just that he definitely fell asleep somewhere in between.

He wakes when a shadow passes over his face and a body sits down next to him, then the familiar feelings of fingers interlacing with his.

“Excuse me, I have a boyfriend,” Nuer jokes sleepily without opening his eyes, obviously making no effort to move.

There’s a huff of laughter. “I am your boyfriend,” Syn says, amusement in his voice.

Nuer cracks an eye open. Syn has come back clad in dress pants and a dark blue button-down, sleeves pushed up to ward off some of the heat, baring his forearms. He even brushed his hair back a little.

Syn’s always pretty, whether he’s wearing his uniform or sweats. But there’s a moment where Nuer is sure his heart stops. The outfit is simple, but there’s something about the simplicity that makes his mouth go a little dry.

He tries to hide the effect it has on him by squinting up at the boy like he’s confused.

Without another moment of hesitation, he says, “Then why is there an angel in front of me?”

They’re met with a whole chorus of groans from around them, ranging from exasperation to mild disgust. Someone throws a pencil that lands directly on Nuer’s chest.

“Can you have some respect for the single people here?” Nuchy complains from the other end of the blanket they’re camped out on. Kuea is hiding a smile behind his hand.

Syn picks up the offending pencil and that’s when Nuer looks back up at him, surprised to see a faint tinge of pink spreading from his boyfriend’s cheeks to the tips of his ears. If he were anyone else, he might have chalked it up to the sun, but being who he is and with the way Syn refuses to catch his eye…

Well, isn’t that just something?

Nuer feels a grin make its way across his face but he doesn’t tease Syn any further, just uses his thigh to pull himself closer so he can continue to use his leg as a head rest.

Meanwhile, he takes in this fun new information and stores it away for later.

2.

Nuer is in front of an ice cream shop, early evening sun beating down, several university students gathered around in an attempt to cool down after classes. He’s been standing in line for the better part of 15 minutes trying to get just two cones for him and Syn.

They have a movie date later, but their show didn’t start for another hour, so there was some time to kill. Nuer had suggested taking a walk around the surrounding shops until then.

Apparently this particular store is a newer one, and quite popular based on how eagerly Syn had herded him toward it. Nuer, always eager to please his man, had no objections to a quick snack.

Syn was originally standing with him, but with Nuer’s ability to run his mouth, he’d ended up by himself quickly thereafter as his boyfriend had pointed to the menu and claimed that Nuchy told him the bubble waffles were, quote, “to die for.”

Nuer, the master of comebacks and not a thought in his head, quipped back, “You’re to die for.”

Silence. Nuer didn’t even realize he had spoken until Syn was staring at him, unimpressed.

Undeterred, he continued. “You might even say…sinful.”

Were Syn any less of a man, he might have hit Nuer right then and there in the middle of the shop. Instead, he just narrowed his eyes and walked away to wait on a bench nearby, leaving Nuer by himself to order and pay.

Eventually he managed, picking out two flavours for each of them and handing Syn his own treat on the way out before starting back down the street toward the theater.

He watches Syn lick the ice cream around the cone meticulously, trying to catch it before it melts onto his fingers and drips to the ground.

It’s adorable.

Smiling, Nuer holds his free arm out in front of Syn, fist closed. The sudden movement startles Syn into stopping, blinking at his hand before shifting a questioning look at him.

Not long after they officially started dating, Syn was swift to anticipate his jokes, often shutting him down before he even gets to the punchline. It’s the wrinkle between his eyebrows that tells him he’s trying to figure out what Nuer is doing.

“Can you hold this for me?” Nuer asks innocently, trying to keep his voice light.

Syn tilts his head, but makes no further objections as he moves an open palm out to Nuer’s hand.

Nuer places his knuckles flat, then slowly spreads his fingers out until they’re snug, interlocking with Syn’s. Then drops their joined hands to swing between them.

“Thanks!” he says, grinning brightly as Syn tries his very best not to smile, the effort evident in the way his nose scrunches up. His boyfriend looks away, all his attention back to the ice cream, but doesn’t let go even when they reach their destination.

It stays that way for the rest of the evening.

3.

Three months into their relationship, they finally have their first sleepover.

They didn’t mean to originally. Syn came over to his dorm room to study, eat, and maybe find a new series to watch if they got enough done to warrant a break. But at some point, after stuffing their faces with takeout, Syn falls asleep sitting up on his couch.

Nuer doesn’t notice right away, too busy scribbling on a scrap piece of paper for a random design idea he got. He only realizes when he turns around, excited to show him what he did, and sees his boyfriend slumped over, his laptop slowly slipping off his legs.

For a few seconds he watches him, trying to decide whether or not to wake him when the computer falls off his lap completely and Syn jolts back to consciousness.

“Huh—?” he blurts, sitting up so quickly he nearly knocks the laptop to the floor entirely

Nuer catches it before it can land, placing it safely onto the coffee table. He then stands up, much to the surprise of his bleary-eyed boyfriend, and holds his hands out. “Alright, up,” he beckons.

“Where are we going?” Syn says, taking the assistance despite his confusion.

“Bed,” Nuer declares, tugging him along towards his bedroom. That seems to wake him up significantly more because he tries to pull himself out of his grip.

“What? No, it’s fine. It’s not even late, I can—” he stops when Nuer fishes his phone out of his own pocket and shows him the screen.

10:25 PM

“...Oh.” Syn huffs then, seemingly determined. “Still! I can take a cab or something. I don’t even have anything with me.”

Nuer rolls his eyes with nothing but fondness and adoration for his stubborn, nervous little monk. “Syn,” he says, softly enough that it manages to put a stop to Syn’s fumbling. “I have a spare toothbrush. And sweatpants you can wear. It’s okay,” he assures him, reaching for his hand again.
“I can sleep on the couch.”

“No!” Syn, startled by his own outburst, repeats himself quieter. “No. No, it’s alright. It’s…it’s your bed. I’ll sleep on the couch,” he says.

Nuer purses his lips, glancing between his boyfriend and his room. “Or we can just…both take the bed? It’s big enough for two,” he suggests, already very aware of the implications and fully prepared to give Syn and out if he gets too uncomfortable.

Several moments pass as Syn appears to think about it, and then upon coming to a decision, he gives the barest hint of a nod.

That’s how Nuer ends up sitting on the edge of his own bed, donning his pajama pants and a t-shirt, as his boyfriend washes up in his bathroom. On a normal day he’d sleep shirtless, but he doesn’t want to push his luck.

There was never an inkling that anything would happen between them tonight—something Nuer made sure of—but Syn still exits his washroom as if he were walking out entirely naked, ready to be deflowered.

And honestly? With the sight of him in Nuer’s clothes, he might as well have. Nuer has the sudden urge to just shove every sweater he owns at him, if it would give him the smallest chance to see him wear them on a daily basis.

Syn stands, nervous and brimming with insecurity, plucking the shirt he had lent him that sits just a little past his hips. They’re roughly the same size, even if Nuer is a few inches taller.

He wants to dispel the anxieties. Wants to tell him he has nothing to be worried about, that he looks good, that nothing will happen if he doesn’t want it to, that they’re going to go to sleep and wake up next to each other like it’s any regular day.

And he does that in the only way he knows how.

Nuer stands, encouraging Syn to shorten the distance between them with his hands. He makes a show of checking him over, shifting his gaze up and down while twirling Syn in a slow circle.

“Not bad. Not bad at all,” Nuer declares, much to the disapproval of Syn. “I think you dropped something, though.”

Syn, with the confused crease in his brows that Nuer loves so much, turns to look behind him with a genuinely concerned “What?”

Before he gets too far, Nuer catches his chin with a finger and turns him back to meet his eyes.

“My jaw,” he says. Then lets his mouth gape open for dramatic effect.

He immediately finds himself shoved backwards and landing flat on his back on the bed, laughing.

Syn joins him, and then they’re both giggling into the covers next to each other while Syn tries to hide his reddened face in a pillow.

And just like that, every ounce of anxiety that plagued the room is gone.

4.

[Syn <3]

?

Yeah?

Why are you texting me?

[Syn <3]

You can

But we’re literally in the same room

[Syn <3]

Okay. What?

[Syn <3]

Why are you giggling?

[Syn <3]

…No

5.

He’s on Syn’s bed.

He’s shirtless on Syn’s bed.

Nuer is half naked, a little sweaty, and a lot horny watching his boyfriend undo his own belt in order to get himself into a similar state of undress.

This isn’t the first time they’ve been here, in this particular situation. But it never gets any less thrilling to see something you want—someone you want—right in front of you. Wanting you back.

They’re new enough to this though, that they still get a little nervous, especially when it comes to the things they haven’t explored before.

Even right now, despite the fact Nuer has seen Syn like this before, he can see the hesitation in Syn’s posture.

And Nuer never wants his man to be uncomfortable, least of all with him.

Sliding back, Nuer leans back into the pillows, leaving his legs splayed out in front of him. Syn watches him intently, eyes raking down the length of his body, likely without him even noticing.

His eyes snap back to Nuer when he shifts, crooking a finger at him in a “come here” gesture.

Syn does. He puts a knee on the bed, slips his other leg over Nuer’s thighs so he’s properly straddling his lap. Nuer settles his hands on his hips, running light thumbs over the skin and causing a shiver to wrack Syn’s body.

“Wow,” Nuer says, pulling a soft sound out of Syn when he sits him flush against his thighs. “I made you come with one finger,” he says, waggling his eyebrows up at Syn, who’s now staring at him with apprehension, “imagine what I could do with two.”

There’s a pause.

A sharp inhale.

And Nuer’s muffled laughter as he gets a pillow directly to the face.

+1

The thing is, Syn isn’t naturally a very forward person.

He can be, certainly, if circumstances call for it. If it’s for something he believes in.

But when it comes to Nuer, he’d rather maintain a respectful distance appropriate for a couple in public.

That doesn’t stop Nuer from trying to rile him up every now and then, especially in front of their friends. Like he gets some sick sense of pleasure out of watching him squirm.

Frankly, Syn could do without it, but the apology kisses he gets later are kind of nice.

So, to put it simply, Nuer is shameless. That’s the general consensus. Nothing could possibly faze him while Syn is constantly on edge, waiting for his next move.

Or so he thought.

Because maybe it’s the fact Syn could have never deliberately flustered Nuer is what gives him the upper hand.

The day he causes Nuer to fumble over his own feet is unremarkable to start. A normal weekend, uneventful.

Nuer wanted to celebrate the end of exams, and while they’ll meet up with their friends later, they want to spend some time together first while the sun is still out.

He takes Syn to his favourite food stall, one that features a variety of desserts. Since they'd eaten a late lunch, they both come away from it each with a type of doughnut in hand.

Syn’s is pretty standard; chocolate, glazed, delicious. Nuer’s is something cream-filled and messy.

Nuer is too busy chatting away to register that he’s squeezing out the best part of his dessert, and Syn is too polite to interrupt him. Also he just loves listening to Nuer talk and cutting him off just isn’t feasible.

So Syn does what feels the most logical to him in the moment. He catches Nuer’s wrist where the filling is dripping down the side of his index finger, causing the boy to stop mid-sentence when Syn brings it towards him, and saves the cream from a fate of landing on the concrete by popping it into his mouth down to the second knuckle.

It’s really good, is the first thing Syn thinks.

The second is just panic as Nuer promptly trips over nothing and lands face first on the ground.

The doughnut goes flying, Nuer sacrificing it in order to cushion his fall with his arms.

“Nuer!” Syn squeaks, rushing to crouch next to him and check him over for injuries. That could have been awful. “Are you okay?” he worries as Nuer groans a little, rolling onto his side so Syn can frown at a scraped elbow.

“Yeah, I—I’m good,” he says, but it sounds off to Syn, prompting him to look up and—

Nuer is flushed.

Like, if a tomato were a person.

For a minute Syn is concerned there really is something wrong and he should consider taking his boyfriend to a hospital, but then Nuer is pushing himself into a sitting position, pulling the hem of his shirt lower, like he’s trying to cover…

Oh.

Oh.

Syn glances down with a raised eyebrow, then back up to find Nuer already watching him.

He wonders if there are side effects to that much blood concentrating in one person’s face. “Don’t look at me like that! Your mouth is wicked,” Nuer complains in a hushed tone.

Is this how Nuer feels when he gets these reactions out of Syn? If so, he’s starting to see the appeal. He lets the edge of his mouth quirk up and just that alone is enough to have Nuer standing, dragging Syn up with him.

“We’re going home,” Nuer suddenly proclaims, tugging Syn behind him.

“What, why?” Syn wonders, and yet he’s pretty sure he knows the answer.

His boyfriend just turns back to him, bringing their linked hands to his mouth to kiss his knuckles.

Then he winks, and Syn has no further questions.