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There's something to be said about the way that people seem to think clothing defines a person. The fabric, the colour, the cut, the way it's sewn—somehow they mean more than just how a person likes to look.
Nunew has never really cared much for gender norms. He likes light fabrics, white lace, pearls sewn into his clothes, shirts that flare out just a little near the waist. He likes soft eyeshadow and glitter nails and tinted lips. He has more of a gentle touch than his peers.
As long as it makes him feel confident and isn't uncomfortable for him, anything is on the table.
Society doesn't seem to think that way just yet.
Most days, Nunew can ignore it. Much of the world was still behind, clinging to outdated mindsets that had little true rationale behind them.
See, Nunew is smart—he can think for himself; he asks questions and prods and assesses before he accepts something as fact. He doesn't blindly accept tradition for tradition's sake; he researches and considers and thinks before slotting something into its rightful place in his mind. It’s easy to disregard criticism when he understands that it lacks any worthwhile foundation.
But it's like this: you're in a dark room, filled with hundreds upon thousands of people. All nameless, but still people in their own right. You're asked a question, and you know the answer.
Suddenly, a spotlight singles you out.
Every single head creaks as it turns to you.
They are nameless, but you can see their faces. You do not know these people, nor do they know you. But they are watching you. They look at you blankly, tracking every move you make.
You must answer, and defend it.
You stand, clear your throat, and then the whispers start up. A thousand pairs of eyes are on you.
Can you still do it?
There's always that small seed of doubt planted in your subconscious; no matter how certain you may be, the second you are outnumbered and scrutinised and placed on a silver platter for all to judge, doubt burrows its roots in and says Oh, what's this? Is this for me?
So today, when Nunew feels every pair of eyes on him and hears the quiet murmuring in the air, he goes to the one place he knows he'll be safe from it all.
"Hia?" he calls out as he slips into Zee's apartment, kicking his white sneakers off.
The living room is empty, but it's already midday and Zee has always been more of a morning person than him, so Nunew is unsurprised to hear Zee's voice ring out from behind his bedroom door.
"In here, Nunew."
Nunew pads to the bedroom, opening the door just enough to poke his head in. Zee is laid back on his bed, the upper half of his body resting against the headboard with his long legs stretched out in front of him. His eyes are latched onto his phone in one hand, the other tucked behind his head.
"Nhu, I thought you were going to rest today," Zee says, not looking up, and Nunew slips fully into the room. "Have you—"
Zee cuts off when he glances up for a moment, doing a double take when he takes in Nunew's outfit. His eyes blow out wide, and the hand holding his phone drops down by his side. If he'd been the kind for dramatics, Nunew imagines his jaw would have dropped, but as it is, Zee just sucks in a startled breath.
Nunew stalks forward, adding a little sway to his hips that draws Zee’s attention down to the curve of his waist—only accentuated by the lace-front corset he’d donned—then to the flared out edges of his white pleated skirt. Nunew trails his hands down, half-covered by the sleeves of his sheer blouse, to flirt his fingers along the edges of his thigh-high stockings.
"Good morning, Hia,” Nunew smiles when he reaches the bed, fluttering his mascara-wispy lashes at him, and Zee’s throat bobs with a swallow when he drags his eyes up to look at him.
“Nhu,” Zee’s voice is pitched down, rough and baritone in a way that sends shivers down Nunew’s spine. Zee latches onto his wrist, gently pulling him onto the bed. His hands find their way to the corset, setting themselves onto his hips. “What’s this? Is this for me?”
Nunew shakes his head. “No, this is for Nhu. I wanted to look pretty today.”
Zee hums half-distracted, eyeing the plump swell of Nunew’s lips—they’re tinted a soft, diffused pink and glazed over with a clear gloss.
“Hia.” Nunew purses his lips, reaching over to take Zee’s hand. “Do I look pretty?”
Zee smiles, looking away and shaking his head like he thinks Nunew is fishing for compliments, and any other day, Nunew would probably laugh at his own boldness too. But today, it makes the hair on the back of his head stand on end and goosebumps prickle on his forearms.
“Hia,” Nunew repeats, and his voice comes out more urgent than he means for it to, “do I look pretty?”
Zee turns back to him, a concerned frown forming on his face as he realises that something is wrong. Nunew’s grip had loosened on his hand, so Zee cradles his hand between both of his own and squeezes. “Nhu, what’s wrong?”
Rationally, Nunew knows there’s nothing wrong with him liking traditionally feminine things. The pastel pink eyeshadow on his eyelids, the floral pattern on his corset, the little bows sewn onto the pleats of his skirt, the lace edge of his stockings—none of them made him weird or wrong or bad. They were just pretty things, and Nunew felt that prettiness didn’t need to have a gender.
But not everyone thinks that way, and when he’s in the public eye and as active online as he is, he sees that. He sees the scrutiny and the theorising and the criticism—that he isn’t manly enough, that he was being forced to wear clothes he didn’t like by Domundi, that he was putting on a cutesy facade for marketing purposes.
And it’s pretty funny to him most days, but sometimes it gets to him; that just by being himself, by liking what he likes, by wearing what he wants, Nunew Chawarin Perdpiriyawong can’t possibly be who he presents himself as.
Zee has always told him to be himself, and that if he was down or sad, he could talk to him—that he didn’t have to fight it alone. So Nunew is here. Nunew knows Zee would never judge him, but it’s still hard saying I don’t know if it’s okay to be who I want to be.
“Hia…” Nunew’s eyes drop to the bed, picking at a stray thread poking out from his bedsheets.
Zee shuffles closer, looping an arm around Nunew’s back to pull him into a hug so he doesn’t have to look at him. “You can tell me.”
Nunew wraps his arms around Zee in return, seeking comfort. Zee pats Nunew’s head, but doesn’t guide his face onto his shoulder like he normally does, and Nunew’s lips twitch in an attempt at a smile when he realises it’s because Zee doesn’t want to ruin his makeup.
“Does Hia think… it’s weird?”
Zee makes a confused sound from the back of his throat. “What is?”
“Just the…” Nunew frees a hand to vaguely gesture at himself. “...the everything.”
“No.” Zee answers sincerely, and Nunew breathes out a quiet sigh of relief. “Why would I? You like it, don’t you?”
“I do but…”
“But?”
“People think I’m a girl.”
Zee pulls back from the hug, and tilts his head to the side as he peers assessingly at Nunew. “Do you feel like a girl?”
“No.” Nunew shakes his head, feeling the silver bar of his dangly earring brush his neck. “I just like feeling pretty. And sometimes skirts and makeup do that.”
“Then that’s it,” Zee smiles. “If it makes Nhu happy, then it’s fine. The only time it’s not okay is if you don’t like it.”
Zee pauses, and little crow's feet crease his eyes as his smile widens. “And Nhu looks very pretty. Always.”
Nunew can’t help but smile then too, biting his lip to stifle it as joy burbles inside of him. He blinks up from beneath his eyelashes just in time to see Zee’s eyes dart back to his lips at the movement, subconsciously licking his own.
“Can I prove it to you?” Zee asks, and Nunew makes a curious noise.
“Prove it to me?”
Zee nods, bringing a hand to his waist and thumbing over one of the bones of his corset. “Lay back for me.”
Nunew is confused, but compliantly lays back. Zee crawls over him, sliding into the space between his legs and holding up his upper body with one arm near Nunew’s head, the other coming to lightly cup his face.
Zee strokes the soft swell of Nunew’s cheek, and Nunew nuzzles into the touch, brushing his lips to Zee's palm. He sees the softening of Zee’s eyes, the warmth and fondness he’s never been hesitant to show Nunew coming to the forefront, and Nunew wraps his arms around his neck.
Slowly, Zee leans down, hovering over Nunew’s lips. He’s so close that Nunew can feel his breath fan over his lips when he exhales, and he flutters his eyes shut when Zee closes the gap.
They kiss, and no matter how many times they do it, Nunew feels it fizzle inside his chest like it’s the first time—it’s butterflies and bubbles and sunshine, all clamouring to the surface, and Nunew dares the world to try take this from him.
Zee naturally gravitates to his upper lip, and Nunew sucks on Zee’s lower one, releasing a quiet huff when Zee pulls back to breathe.
Zee licks his lips, tasting some of the gloss that had transferred to his own mouth, and makes a face at it. Nunew can’t really blame him—the gloss tastes exactly like how you’d expect any lip product to taste—but laughs lightly at the way Zee’s nose scrunches up.
Zee smiles at the sound, and leans down to pepper his face with kisses just to hear more. Nunew can’t help the giggles he lets out at lips moving over his eyelids, his nose, his dimple; it’s something he’s never been able to get over, the ticklish sensation of Zee’s lips flitting all over him, paired with the giddy feeling he gets every time he’s reminded that Zee adores him just as much as Nunew does him—which is often.
Nunew squirms, hands resting on Zee’s shoulders like he can’t decide if he wants to pull him closer or push him away for his own sanity.
Like he’s reading his mind, the way Zee sometimes seems to know Nunew’s thoughts before he himself is even aware of them, Zee plants a kiss to the corner of his mouth and pulls back.
“Nhu is pretty,” he murmurs, almost to himself, and uses his thumb to wipe along the cupid’s bow of Nunew’s lip. “So pretty.”
The gloss must have smeared, Nunew thinks distractedly when Zee rests his thumb on the centre of his lips. He can’t resist planting a kiss to it, and Zee huffs an amused breath before moving his hands down Nunew’s body. Zee shuffles down, straddling his thighs, placing kisses on the two moles just beneath Nunew's jaw before turning his attention to the sensitive skin of his neck where a white-leather choker with a heart ring in its centre rests.
“Hia,” Nunew’s voice trembles when Zee pushes the choker up to trail his tongue slowly over his Adam’s apple. Nunew drags his hands along his back, fingers digging into the muscle when Zee undoes the first button of his blouse to nip at his collarbone, then seals his lips over it to leave a lovemark.
“Nhu,” Zee whispers lowly against his skin, hands moving down to wrap around his waist. With the corset cinched around it, Zee’s hands form a perfect ring around him, his broad palms and long fingers just managing to encircle his entire waist. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
Zee traces his fingers along the small embroidered flowers on his corset, and noses his way up to kiss a spot just beneath Nunew’s ear that never fails to make him shiver.
“I always want to touch you. You’re so pretty, sometimes I think you can’t be real.” Zee squeezes around Nunew’s waist, both thumbs pressing down just over his stomach, and Nunew squirms at the pressure. “You fit so perfectly in my hands. It’s like you’re always tempting me, Nhu. I never used to be like this, but how can I help myself when you’re here?”
Nunew’s chest heaves as he tries to draw in air, his heart drumming in his ears, but he’s so completely gone for this man who can quite literally hold him in his palms. Zee has never been shy with his praise, has always made sure that Nunew knows how much he loves and adores him, but it’s always such an overwhelming, intimate feeling that unfurls like spring’s first bloom in his chest.
Here, in Zee’s room, with his scent everywhere—the warm spice and amber notes of his perfume diffused in his clothes and bedsheets, interlaced with something earthier and masculine that Nunew has come to associate with the taste of his skin—with Zee poised over him, shoulders broad and blocking out light trickling in from the window, and that gentle rumble of his voice that he reserves for him especially, Nunew wonders how he’s ever supposed to get used to this feeling.
You have no idea what you do to me, Zee says. Nunew thinks of spring’s first bloom—the delicate curves of its petals, the scent of sweetness it diffuses in the air, the way it stands proudly in a field of melting snow as if to say I am here. Appreciate my loveliness for I am beautiful. Appreciate my strength for I have braved the winters to be here.
Nunew thinks of spring’s first bloom, the flower field tucked in his heart that flourishes with every look, every touch, every kiss, and thinks he just might have an idea.
Zee moves his hands towards the neat bow tied at the bottom edge of his corset, tugging lightly on the ends. “May I?”
Nunew nods, then grabs the collar of Zee’s white tee, pulling him up to peck him on the lips. Zee parts his mouth, running his tongue along the seam of Nunew’s lips, and tugs the bow loose. Nunew breathes through his nose and loses himself to the slick glide of their mouths against each other as Zee’s hands busy themselves with undoing the ribbon of his corset.
When Zee manages to tug the last loop free, he pulls the corset open so it lays on either side of Nunew’s waist. He tosses the ribbon somewhere off the bed, and Nunew exhales shakily when Zee pulls back, the thin line of saliva between them snapping once Zee tilts his face down.
Zee tugs his blouse free from his skirt, pushing it up just far enough until he can smooth his hands over Nunew’s stomach. His palms are warm as they skate over his ribs, his hips, the slight dip his belly makes when he lies down. Nunew can feel the rough calluses on his hands when Zee splays them across his skin, and clenches his hands in the bedsheets by his side.
“Nhu.” Zee ducks down, pressing his lips to Nunew’s stomach. Nunew hums quietly in response, and tries not to tremble out of his skin when Zee starts sucking and biting, leaving a smattering of lovebites over his stomach. “My pretty boy.”
Nunew’s breath hitches in his throat, and he bites down harshly on his lip to keep from whining out loud. Zee nuzzles his face just above Nunew’s belly button, trailing his hands down to the fabric of his skirt, running his fingers over the bows sewn into the pleats and the small pearls embedded in their centres.
As Zee laves his tongue over a mark, his hands slip beneath Nunew’s skirt, gently stroking the inside of his thighs. His fingers brush over the frilled edge of Nunew’s boyshorts, and Zee makes a startled sound, jolting away from Nunew’s stomach.
Nunew makes an embarrassed whimper when Zee looks at him with dark eyes, his lips slightly parted in shock. Nunew feels his face heat up and the tips of his ears warm, and releases the bedsheets to cover his face with his hands. “Hia…”
He feels hands wrap around his wrists, pulling them up above his head where Zee then holds them both down with a single hand. “Don’t hide, Nunew.”
Nunew wiggles, pushing at the grip, but Zee bears down and keeps his arms in place.
“Hia,” he protests, clenching his hands and digging his nails into his palm. “This is embarrassing.”
Zee hums consideringly, loosening his hold slightly but not letting go just yet. He leans down, kissing the tip of Nunew’s nose. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, Nhu. You never have to be worried about Hia judging you. It’s okay.”
Nunew pouts, his bottom lip jutting out. “I know that… it’s still embarrassing though.”
Zee laughs quietly at that, letting go of his grip to bring his hands back to the hem of Nunew’s skirt. Nunew sighs, then takes in a deep breath, keeping his hands where Zee had left them.
He sees Zee hide a smile when he notices, and is reminded of how easy it is to place his trust in Zee’s hands each day knowing that it’d never be taken for granted— that it would be cherished in the way trust should always be.
So when Zee moves his hands back under his skirt, flipping it up so it lays across his lower stomach, Nunew turns his head to bury his face into Zee's pillow but doesn’t make a move to stop him. The pearls of his skirt are chilled against his skin, and he tries to focus on that when Zee purposefully dips his fingertips beneath the waistband of his lace boyshorts.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed, Nhu.” Zee says again, this time with a sly edge to his voice that makes Nunew sink his teeth into his bottom lip. “You just wanted to look pretty for Hia, didn’t you? You just wanted to be a good boy.”
Warm fingers skirt to the crease of his thigh, dragging along where he’s sensitive, and Zee knows it because he keeps his touch light and teasing. Nunew tries not to squirm when Zee traces a slow circle into his skin.
“Hia,” Nunew whines, “this isn’t fair.”
“Fair?” Zee grins, eyes sharp and wicked. “Nhu is the one who isn’t fair. Hia was just supposed to rest today, but you came here looking so lovely and dolled-up.”
Zee spreads his hands out onto the milky skin of Nunew’s thighs, kneading them before pushing them apart enough for him to duck down and nip along the inside. Nunew makes a startled yelp, clamping his legs around Zee’s head. Zee doesn’t seem to mind, brushing his cheek against Nunew’s thighs as he lays kisses on them.
“You drive me to distraction, Nhu.” Zee mutters, quiet enough that Nunew almost thinks he’s talking to himself, but he squeezes at the slight pudge spilling over the tops of his thigh-highs like he’s holding him accountable. “I feel like I’m going crazy some days.”
“It’s the same for Nhu,” Nunew admits quietly, and he feels the smile Zee makes against his skin before he presses a kiss to the inside of his knee.
“Hia really likes your thighs,” Zee squeezes just above the band of his thigh-highs as he says it, and Nunew can’t help but burst out into helpless little giggles when he thinks of all the times Zee hadn’t been able to resist laying his hand on his thigh.
“Hia makes that obvious.” Nunew points out between laughs, finally bringing a hand down to muffle the sound into his palm.
Zee, in retaliation, reaches up to pull down one side of his skirt’s waistband to bite down meanly onto the jut of his hipbone. Nunew jerks, swatting a hand onto Zee’s shoulder.
“So naughty.” Zee sighs, an amused smirk pulling on his lips as he shuffles back up to crowd over Nunew.
Nunew laughs again, laying his hands on Zee’s shoulders. “Hia loves me like this.”
And though Nunew says it jokingly, Zee makes an affirmative sound, leaning down to nuzzle their noses together. Zee cards a hand through Nunew’s hair, smiling when he notices the glitter Nunew had sprayed into it. He tucks a strand behind Nunew’s ear and places a light kiss to his temple. “I do. Hia loves his princess, always.”
Zee presses their foreheads together then, a certain mischievous glint appearing in his eyes, and coos, “I love you in every way. Every version of you.”
It's so cheesy to be using Lian’s lines here, and they both know it.
But hearing it, with Zee absentmindedly thumbing at his dangly earring and looking him in the eye with a quiet intensity just like he had on set that day, Nunew feels tears well up in his eyes, his vision going fuzzy as a sob gets caught in his throat. He throws an arm over his face, hiccuping quietly as he cries.
Zee places a kiss to the inside of his palm, gently prying his hand away from his face, and Nunew feels the tears come faster than he can blink them away at the tender smile on Zee’s face.
Nunew doesn’t even know why he’s crying—he can’t name the swirling concoction of pure feeling in his chest even as it bubbles and spills out from his eyes. It’s relief and love and laughter and light and adoration and disbelief—he can’t name it at all, just knows that there’s a lot of it.
Zee has always had expressive eyes, and as an actor, it’s always been a quality of his that Nunew admires and is in awe of. But it’s so different seeing it alone, with only a breath’s width between each other, and knowing that Zee is not acting. Nunew is his only captive audience, and here, Zee shows him the enrapture, the endearment, the pure, unconditional love—everything.
Nunew will always have a soft spot for Kuea. He is his first character, and has paved the way for him. But beyond that, it’s the familiarity—the I know what it’s like being scared of being your true self. I know. But I also know what it’s like to be loved for it. It’s okay to trust. He loves you.
Nunew knows he looks like a wreck right now—his lips are swollen from all the kissing and biting, and the gloss is smudged everywhere. He can feel it beneath his nose, on his chin, the rim of his lips. With his tears, his mascara is most definitely running in grey rivulets down the side of his face, and his glittery hair is fluffed up beneath the pillow. His blouse is unbuttoned, untucked, and pushed up to his sternum. The corset is spread out on either side of him, the ribbon somewhere on the floor, and his skirt is fanned out and flipped up to his stomach, which is littered in an array of red and pink marks and teeth indents.
But Zee looks at him like he’s the most lovely thing he’s ever seen, and Nunew can't bring himself to care. It’s vulnerable, letting himself be seen like this, but Zee makes it worth it—makes it easy to.
Trust, Kuea tells him.
Okay, Nunew replies, and regrets nothing.
“Beautiful,” Zee whispers, kissing him once, pausing, then leaning in for more like he can’t help himself.
Nunew wraps his arms around his neck, smiles against his mouth and kisses him back.
And he feels completely and utterly ethereal.