The self defense initiative for Sylus’s birthday???? Bro I was grinning so wide when I saw that.
A man whose entire character revolves around autonomy and consent, with a birthday in SA awareness month, and now a birthday event in self defense for women. Sylus the man that you are
the main story is taking forever to update because they’re finally writing the boys interacting with one another and it’s really really hard to write something that doesn’t sound like Zayne and Sylus flirting with each other
Jaybin’s first time at a full dining table 🥹 he would go full Kirby on Alfred’s meals and Alfred would just remind him on his table manners but let him get away with it every single time 😭
Summary: Sylus is at the top of all of his classes, except for one. And he intends to do everything in his power to topple the pompous ass who holds the top spot.
A/N: It's hard to write them at odds with each other! It's usually pissed off Zayne and Sylus messing with him, but a situation where they hate each other's guts ended up hotter than I thought 🥴
Sylus and Zayne are in their early twenties!
Tags: university!AU, student!Zayne, student!Sylus, switches, rimming, hate sex, banter and insults, arguing, sloppy makeouts, masochistic tendencies (you already know who,) the snowcrow piercings agenda, enemies to...enemies with benefits? idk you be the judge.
Sylus was an excellent student. He completed projects on time, consistently competed for top grades and had pushed the limits of how much sleep the human body needed to function to get there. Exhaustion dragged at his eyes as he made his way across campus for his 8:00am course. He went over the bullet points from last week’s notes in his head and realized that at this point he was eating, sleeping, and breathing Biomedical Engineering. His apartment had become a battle ground of spare parts for prototype projects, charts tacked to the walls for the union of medical and engineering principles, and scrawled notes in over a dozen notebooks. He knew eventually he was going to need to let off some of the pressure before eventual burnout, but he was determined to keep up with his courseload. As it stood, he was at the top in terms of grades for all of his classes except for one.
Sylus grabbed a chair at the front of the class and pulled out his datapad and stylus along with an energy drink in a tall can that made the med students around him cringe. He ignored them and clicked onto a fresh page in his digital notebook for Medical Ethics 102, a standard course that most students who interacted with the medical field in any way needed to take. He frowned, remembering who else was in this class; the only one who had him beat for top score in any of his courses. All Sylus needed was one phenomenal paper or project to topple his rival.
The professor for the class stood from her desk, using a remote to turn on a presentation, and Sylus gripped his stylus, ready to copy down notes on incomplete research in medical history.
“Who can give me an example of a medical finding that has left out part of the equation?” asked the professor, leaning on her desk. Sylus spoke as his hand raised.
“Protocore Syndrome. As it’s described in a study, prolonged exposure can cause a myriad of symptoms but ignores the evidence that there is a genetic component that could exacerbate those symptoms.” Sylus said confidently.
“That’s a bad example.” came a calm voice from the table next to him. Sylus didn’t even need to turn his head to identify the speaker. His only rival. A self-righteous med student named Zayne Li. “There is no historical evidence to back up your claim.”
“There is if you could be bothered to look before you speak.” Sylus argued, trying to keep his eyes trained to the front of the classroom as his jaw tightened in irritation. “Ten years ago, a report came out of the St. Germaine Institute of Oncology that diagnosed a patient with cancer citing symptoms that we could now classify as a fit for Protocore Syndrome. It wasn’t out of a lack of ethics, they simply did not have the language to describe what they were seeing properly.”
“That’s still pure conjecture.” Zayne fired back. “The study was never re-classified or amended and shouldn’t be used as a historical basis for Protocore Syndrome.”
Sylus finally turned his head with grit teeth to stare back at Zayne down the row from him.
“If you’re in front of a patient and you’re able to correlate two separate cases, would you simply ignore the similarities and fail to look deeper simply because the knowledge at the time was not extensive enough?” Sylus challenged him.
“We’re not in front of a patient, we’re in front of academic documentation, and interpreting historic documentation like that without a proper basis sets a dangerous precedent.” Zayne scoffed at him, adjusting his glasses over his narrowed green eyes.
“You’re not looking at the bigger picture.”
“An you’re not looking at the facts.”
“That’s enough.” said the professor with an exasperated sigh. “We’re off topic, let’s reign it in.”
This was not an uncommon occurrence. It was clear to everyone in the large room that Sylus and Zayne could not stand each other. Loud arguments back and forth in class, muttered insults under their breaths. They were both brilliant, but rarely found middle ground.
Sylus hissed, turning his attention back to his notes. All he had to do was knock Zayne from the top of the roster, survive this class, and then they’d never see each other again. Simple. The class proceeded, and the presentation concluded.
“You have a project due in two weeks.” the professor said passively, keying in information on her own datapad. “The guidelines as well as group assignments have been sent to your datapads. I expect a written report and visual presentation ready to go by the deadline. You’re assigned in groups of two.”
Sylus glanced at the incoming message and opened it to find his partner, it was better to arrange a date for collaboration here and now while it was on his mind. His eyes widened at the notification and his brow furrowed in distaste. “Zayne Li - Sylus Qin.” In a second Sylus was out of his seat as people poured out of the open doors at the sides of the classroom. He crushed the empty energy drink can in his hand and walked intently to the front of the class to speak to the professor. He wasn’t the only one. Zayne had basically materialized at his side, no doubt seeking the same thing.
“I’m not changing your group assignments” said the professor without looking up as she packed her laptop away.
“What?” Sylus sputtered, a headache beginning to creep in behind his eyes.
“May I ask why?” Zayne said, voice tight and shoulders rigid.
“Because no matter which field you find yourselves in, you’re going to need to find a way to work with people you don’t get along with. Figure it out, gentleman.” she said with a terse nod, walking away to leave two students with stunned expressions.
“Great.” Sylus said sarcastically, turning to face Zayne.
“Let’s get this over with.” Zayne huffed, reaching for a notepad and pen in his pocket. He scrawled down a few lines of information and thrust it at Sylus. “That’s my address. I assume tomorrow is your off-day.”
“I don’t have off-days.” Sylus sneered. “But fine. I don’t have class until 3:00pm. 10:00am is sufficient for this.”
Zayne nodded and turned to leave, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
“Obnoxious prick.” he muttered under his breath.
“Self-righteous ass.” Sylus hissed, knowing Zayne could hear him.
The rest of the day was a blur to Sylus, and he found himself back home in his chaotic apartment by nightfall. He hauled out his laptop and opened a new document. He couldn’t let Zayne one-up him on a group project. Page after page of the written portion of their project flowed from his fingers completely out of spite. He chose not to think about the amount of caffeine he was consuming through the night until morning began to peek through the blinds of his living room.
Sylus rested his head on the back cushion of his couch, closing his eyes to rest as the ten pages he’d written and revised printed off across the room.
___
Zayne woke up with a start, glasses mangled on his face and keys making indents in his cheek from where he’d fallen asleep on the keyboard of his laptop. His heart squeezed in panic when he looked at the clock. It was already past 11:00am and he’d just woken up. Zayne stood up from his kitchen table, fumbling for his cellphone to check for messages from Sylus as he slammed the print button on the document he’d finished. There was no way he was risking his grade on Sylus, so he’d written the entirety of the written portion of their project. All Sylus would have to do is compile the slideshow, and surely there was no way to screw that up.
In relief he saw he had no messages from Sylus, only Caleb sending the eye-roll emoji in response to his frustrated tirade about his project partner. Zayne scoffed. Obviously Caleb didn’t understand. Every time he’d tried to vent his anger about something Sylus did, Caleb brushed him off with dismissive words like “just kiss already.” Ridiculous.
Even though he’d only just awoken himself, he typed a terse message to Sylus asking him where he was when they’d agreed on ten in the morning to go over their project. He ignored the “On my way.” reply text from Sylus and walked to his bedroom to change out of his clothes from yesterday.
A half mile away, Sylus was jogging towards Zayne’s apartment complex with purpose, backpack digging into his shoulders and leather cuff on his wrist chafing as he went. He swore under his breath, anger and embarrassment curling his insides. He couldn’t believe he’d overslept. As if Zayne needed any more ammo to make his life miserable. He fumed as he walked through the buildings, thinking of Zayne and his serious demeanor, his pompous attitude, his perfect green eyes.
Sylus stopped at the unit clearly labeled with a freshly swept doorway and hammered the side of his fist into the door. After a few moments, the door opened and those cold, judgmental eyes glared back at him.
“It took you long enough. Did you get lost on the way?” Zayne spat, letting Sylus in the door.
“No, I was in the middle of a perfect dream where you failed out of your major and I didn’t want it to end.” Sylus fired back.
“Well that’s how you know it was a dream; I’m incapable of failure.” Zayne said, crossing his arms as Sylus rolled his eyes.
Zayne’s apartment was pretty much what he’d expected. Everything was clean, down to the baseboards. Meticulously organized. Books stacked neatly on the shelves, every pillow on the couch of his small living room neatly placed, and not a dish in the sink. There was a pleasant scent in the air, something floral as Zayne passed him to get to the printer in the corner of his living area.
“Let’s make this quick.” Sylus said, hauling off his backpack and rifling through it to draw out a neat stack of papers. He held it up to show Zayne, a mean smile crossing his face. “I’ve completed the written portion of the project. Try not to mess up the slideshow.”
Sylus tossed the packet of paper on the table, and the face that Zayne made at him was worth every godforsaken hour of the night before. He was stunned, eyes wide and mouth open, but only for a moment before they shifted right back to anger. Zayne pulled his own stack of pages off of his printer and threw it down on top of Sylus’ report.
“Unnesesarry. We’ll use mine. You handle the visual presentation. It seems more your speed.” Zayne hissed. Sylus dropped his backpack, stunned by the audacity.
“Of course you would think that, you self-congratulatory boy scout.” Sylus growled, hands balling in anger.
“Oh, don’t pretend I’m out of line, it’s clear you went behind my back to do the same thing. You’re obnoxious, impulsive.” Zayne said, taking a step closer as if to hit Sylus, voice raised and jaw tight. From here he could truly make out Sylus’ striking eye color, deep, vibrant reds that seemed to pull him in.
“That’s a poor way to say “Thank you, Sylus.” Sylus raged back at him, daring him to back down. He rolled his shoulders back and took a step forward to intimidate him. He picked up on the source of the heavenly scent, jasmine and sandalwood, coming directly from Zayne.
“I despise you.” Zayne seethed.
“Yeah?” Sylus challenged him, eyes fiery.
“Yeah.” Said Zayne, too angry to realize how close they were to each other.
Neither of them could tell who started it, who moved first. All they knew is that one moment they were daring the other to give up control and the next they both saw white as their lips crashed together with volatile intensity. Zayne felt teeth on his lips and the tang of copper, his hands flying to Sylus’ face as if to pull him closer. Sylus gripped at Zayne’s hips, long fingers lifting at the back of his shirt to sneak under the hem and rove over his muscles.
Sylus drew back to take a breath, and Zayne ripped off his glasses to toss them aside.
“This doesn’t change anything.” Sylus snarled, frowning at Zayne.
“Do you ever find it within yourself to shut up?!” Zayne growled.
“Only when I’m protecting your precious ego, pretty boy.”
Zayne made a harsh frustrated noise as he captured Sylus’ lips again, walking into his space to get him to back up so he could manhandle him down the hall to his bedroom. Sylus pinned him against the closed door, shoving him roughly to suck a dark mark into his neck. Something smooth and hard ran along his pulse and Zayne let out a breathy moan and the friction. Sylus could feel Zayne shiver underneath him and felt his lips curl into a sinister smile as he ravaged the pale pulse of his throat. Zayne wound his slender fingers in Sylus’ hair and didn’t bother being gentle as he pulled. His right hand fumbled around the door reaching for the doorknob, causing them to stumble inside of Zayne’s clean bedroom.
Sylus grabbed Zayne around the waist to keep him from falling and Zayne flung out a hand to steady himself, toppling a row of books off of his shelf and onto the floor. Sylus gripped at Zayne’s chin to make his mouth fall open and allow him to slide their tongues together, and Zayne felt something clink against his teeth. He kissed back, flicking out with the tip of his tongue to confirm what he’d felt; Sylus had a tongue piercing. A thrilling energy ran across Zayne’s shoulders and he gripped at Sylus’ face to pull him closer and let him taste it again.
Sylus’ hands traveled lower, brazenly shoving down at his sweatpants and then tending to his own jeans to slide them off and step out of them. They separated to pull off their shirts, Sylus shrugging out of his red flannel and black tshirt to showcase his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Zayne eyed him darkly, sliding his eyes lecherously over every single curve of muscle. Sylus did the same, pleasantly surprised to see the rippling abs and incredibly biteable traps on the med student.
They relieved themselves of their briefs and Sylus didn’t bother to throw off the cuff around his wrist but stopped cold as he got a look at Zayne’s cock. Zayne smirked and placed his hands on Sylus’ shoulders to shove him down on his bed while he hunted through his nightstand. Zayne scoffed at him.
Sylus couldn’t look away. Every part of Zayne was clean, pristine and put together from his speech to his haircut to the way he moved. All of it proper and prim. All except for the three metal barbells that glittered on the underside of his cock in a three-runged Jacob’s ladder. It drove Sylus to anger, because it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen in his life and just so happened to be attached to the cock of his sworn enemy.
“Now who’s the boy scout?” he sneered at Sylus’ stunned expression. He plucked out a bottle of lube from the drawer and slammed it shut again, unpopping the cap with flourish as he climbed on the bed to kneel in front of Sylus.
Zayne was back at Sylus’ mouth again, as if preventing him from speaking and smoothed a slick hand over Sylus’ cock to tease him before reaching down to tap at his entrance. Sylus nipped again at Zayne’s lips and let his legs fall open while Zayne roughly started to work him open. It was chaos, it was pain. It was obscene sounds with no room for thinking about what they were doing or who was in front of them. Their anger fueled them, and their competition had them seeking the other’s weakness at every turn. Zayne wondered silently if anyone could truly know you as your enemy did.
Sylus lowered a hand to stroke at his own cock as Zayne worked, gliding up the smooth length and raking his fingers through Zayne’s hair roughly. It wasn’t fair. Shitty people shouldn’t look so good, or have fingers that had him moaning and gasping as they found where he was sensitive. They shouldn’t taste so good or smell so sweet, and yet here Zayne was; insufferably perfect.
Zayne withdrew his hand from Sylus’ entrance, and pulled away to line himself up, smacking the inside of Sylus’ thigh to get him to move. What was he doing? This was stupid. This arrogant, smart-mouthed, sexy man who constantly threatened his status as top of the class had no right to be so appealing. And as Zayne sunk into Sylus’ tight hole, all those thoughts left him now.
Sylus’ back arched off of the mattress, piercing on full display as his mouth fell open in a silent scream. The stretch was on the very line between pain and pleasure and Sylus thought he could feel his soul fucked right out of his body when those piercings bullied at every sensitive point he had. His hands twisted into the blankets next to him as Zayne picked up his pace savagely, barely giving him room to breathe.
“Zayne…” Sylus keened, chest heaving for breath as Zayne snapped his hips over and over. The corners of Zayne’s mouth upturned as Sylus came apart underneath him.
“That’s right…” Zayne breathed as he plunged deeper and deeper. “Say my name. Again.”
Sylus moaned his name again in response, his own hips following Zayne’s rhythm.
“Pretty boy, boy scout…” Zayne mocked. “You don’t know the first thing about who you’re dealing with, do you?”
Sylus hissed through his teeth, and looked up at Zayne with glassy eyes that were trying so hard to be hateful. Sylus’ hand drifted to his cock to stroke and Zayne slapped his wrist away. He leaned forward, bracing his arms on either side of Sylus head to nip at his collar bone and leave a dark hickey on his chest.
“Don’t you ever underestimate me again.” Zayne growled and felt his hips stutter before he spilled into Sylus’ hole with a loud moan as he came. Sylus groaned, feeling his cock twitch as Zayne let go of spurt after spurt inside of him.
Zayne caught his breath, breathing heavy as he dragged his cock out of Sylus slowly to let him feel every ridge of pleasure from his Jacob’s ladder. He looked down with a satisfied smirk and Sylus propped himself up to rise to his knees in front of Zayne.
“Forgetting something?” he said tickly, scarlet eyes motioning down to his aching cock. Zayne chuckled.
“You have two hands.” he taunted. Sylus smirked right back.
“Nah…”
Zayne yelped as he was unceremoniously shoved face first into his pillow and he grunted as Sylus crowded behind him, spreading his cheeks to bury his face against Zayne’s hole. Zayne twisted to object when he felt the warm metal coaxing over his entrance in a way that made his cock twitch. He froze, melting into the sheets as he was tortured through his afterglow.
“You’re right, princess. I do have two hands.” Sylus taunted, reaching for the lube as he teased Zayne’s entrance. “Still going to send me away, or do you want to see what they can do?”
Zayne felt his face go red, though from anger or arousal he was not sure. He grit his teeth, mortified to give Sylus the satisfaction.
“Aah! Just…hurry up.” Zayne relented through a series of filthy moans. He cursed at himself as his hands tightened around his pillow. God that felt good. Bastard.
Sylus worked magic with his tongue, lapping at Zayne’s entrance with slow, agonizing licks and slick heat when he nestled his tongue inside. He was determined to undo Zayne just as much as he’d been undone. He didn’t like being outshown, and he wasn’t about to let Zayne win this round. It had nothing to do with how his velvet skin trembled under his touch or how pretty he was when he came. Absolutely nothing.
As Sylus’ long slick fingers worked at Zayne’s entrance, Zayne’s voice was loud and each one of his sighs went straight to Sylus’ cock. He had to move fast, or he’d be done before he began. Roughly he pulled out of Zayne and watched him flutter around nothing as his body shook. Sylus grabbed his hips and forced Zayne to raise his ass in the air while Sylus climbed up to line himself up.
“Don’t hold back.” Zayne breathed, twisting to look at him. Sylus looked at him skeptically. His cock was long and with an impressive girth to match. As much as he hated Zayne he didn’t want to hurt him. Zayne dared him with his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re scared now.”
Sylus narrowed his eyes and gripped Zayne’s hips squarely to slide into him in one single agonizing push. Zayne relaxed his abdomen and hole, crying out at Sylus’ size as he filled him to the brim. He saw stars and the pain was delicious, just right compared to the amount of pleasure he got as Sylus bullied his prostate. Sylus moaned as he started to pump, hating how much this turned him on.
“You’re the arrogant one.” Sylus growled, delivering a loud slap to Zayne’s ass and reveling in the way it made him tighten up around Sylus. Zayne was completely hard again, and it was fueling Sylus’ power trip. “You think you’re so much better than the rest of us. Just because you’re talented, perfect in bed, intelligent…”
Zayne looked up at Sylus with an incredulous look and Sylus felt his cheeks burn and he delivered another slap against Zayne’s ass to offset his words.
“But look at you now, Mr. Perfect. On your knees for me.” Sylus taunted. He reached around to pump at Zayne’s sensitive cock, tracing his thumb over every piece of metal slowly. His hips continued their heavy pumps, and Zayne could feel the slap of Sylus’ balls rhythmically slapping him from behind.
Sylus groaned at the flex of Zayne’s carved back muscled and leaned over to lick at every tension filled spot he could find. He bit, he marked, and then his tongue was back to sooth them. He gave Zayne a squeeze and it was all he needed before Zayne came against his abs and into Sylus’ hand. Sylus felt his dick twitch and he knew he was there. He sank his teeth onto one of those annoyingly perfect trap muscles at his shoulder and forced Zayne still as he spilled into his desperate hole.
Fatigued, Sylus pushed Zayne to the side as he pulled out of him, and let himself crash down to the mattress beside him, breathing in time with the tired med student. Both of them avoided eye contact. On what planet had that been a good idea? Zayne raked his hand through his messy hair. Caleb would never let him hear the end of this. Sylus sighed, raising his fingers to the bridge of his nose as he thought about his life choices.
What neither of them said out loud was that it was the best they’d ever had.
“You’re not stupid.” Zayne admitted quietly, folding his arms. Sylus scoffed at him.
“Well don’t say it like you’re surprised, Princess.” Sylus said with a roll of his eyes.
“Would you like me to remind you what name you were shouting as you drooled into my mattress? Because it wasn’t “Princess.” Zayne snapped.
“Sure, and while you're at it, let’s talk about what a little masochist you are.” Sylus bit back.
The two sat there, quietly forced to admit that the arguing was nearly as hot as the sex.
“I’ll read your stupid paper.” Zayne grumbled.
“I suppose I should read yours too.” Sylus relented. “We can split the slideshow.”
“Fine.” Zayne said, letting his shoulders relax on the bed. Sylus watched his green eyes close and found his eyes drawn to the slow rise and fall of his chest.
“Fine.” he agreed, voice more gentle than he intended.
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