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The first “real” nickname, following the great “rakugo debacle”, as Simon has taken to describe it to their coworkers, appears in a spurt of anger.
“You- you absolute skunk of a man!”
Nahyuta’s face is hot with anger as they point a furious finger towards Simon, who looks unfazed.
“Am I now? And here I thought that I was little more than a lowly reverse panda for your tastes, blackguard.”
“You are!”
“Is that so?”
The absolute audacity of Simon Blackquill, who has two hands behind his head as he lounges in his damn chair. Nahyuta sputters in their fury.
“You- you’re no-good, you’re a pain, and your temper is notorious!”
“Says the one with the temper..”
“Why, you-!”
“Can both of you please put aside your frustrations for a moment?”
The voice belongs to the chief prosecutor, who looks between the two and sighs in a way not unlike an exhausted father, too tired to deal with his children’s spats.
“Apologies, Edgeworth-dono, the monk was merely venting their… opinions,” Simon says with a quirked eyebrow and a smirk.
“And you conveniently did not egg them on, Prosecutor?”
“Of course. Can’t you see I’m a model citizen? Completely reformed from seven years in the clink.”
“Why, this is news to me,” their boss hums. “I didn’t realize Miss Cykes had been so successful in your court-mandated adjustment period. The paperwork on my desk that details you intimidating a witness by implying they were staying with men who would take great pleasure in removing their fingernails one by one must be some sort of practical joke.”
“Clearly it was. I implied they would be removed in chunks, one by one. That’s quite different. Whoever filed that report needs to stop glossing over the details.”
“Prosecutor, please stop giving witnesses nightmares.”
“Serial murderer who targeted teenagers from bad homes that were suffering from a lack of support? He did deserve the implication, and it made him more willing to confess.”
“It’s not proper, and I don’t like having to explain to attorneys why I allow my prosecutors to make thinly veiled threats.”
Nahyuta shifts uncomfortably where they’re standing. They’re not a fan of being scolded, and now things are just awkward. Edgeworth glances at both of them, sighs, and gestures towards the door of the break room.
“You’re both free to go. I won’t keep you- just, do try to keep your voices down. I think Debeste is on a phone call with detectives, and I’d hate for Detective Skye to march down and demand heads.”
“Yes sir,” both prosecutors echo as they stand and leave.
“Skunk?” Simon hums, amused, as they both exit the hearing range of the office.
“Shut up.”
“I could have sworn they were rather sweet, intelligent animals. Are you implying something?”
“I hate you.”
“I know you do. I’ll buy you dinner to make up for it, how’s that?”
“You’re taking me home afterwards, too.”
“Of course.”
The second nickname also shows up at work.
“Yes, thank you, badger, for these papers I was expecting two hours ago,” Nahyuta grumbles as they snatch the folder out of Simon’s hands. The man in front of them shakes his head.
“I have more important things to do during my day than play errand boy for you.”
“Evidently so. You’re lucky I didn’t need them for trial earlier.”
“Ah, a shame that I could have inconvenienced you and not even known about it. Usually I like to do that with purpose.”
“Badger?” Klavier snickers.
Right. Nahyuta’s forgotten he’s in here. Occasionally he does that- just shows up, unannounced, to chat. Apparently he does that with the entire office. It’s strange, but Nahyuta has yet to figure out how to get him to stop.
“What?” they snap, proverbial hackles rising already.
“Cute nickname- when’s the wedding?”
“Does he not remind you of a badger, Prosecutor Gavin?”
“Well now I’m curious, Nahyuta, do you just spend part of your evenings finding new animals to compare me to?” Simon asks. He’s got an eyebrow cocked up as he looks down at them. It’s cocky.
“Badgers are the animals with a notorious temper,” Nahyuta hisses, “and you have a reputation.”
“You both flirt so strangely.”
“Shut it, Gavin,” both Simon and Nahyuta snap at the man, who howls with laughter.
“Worth it!”
“Should I start coming up with nicknames for you as well, Nahyuta?”
“Do as you please, I don’t care.”
“Perhaps I’ll call you peacock, for how vain you seem to be?”
“I am not vain.”
“Of course you aren’t. Maybe butterfly, then. A nice reference to the insects you seem to attract so easily.”
“Get out of my office,” they grumble, cheeks warm.
“Oh? Do you like that one? Is that a blush I see?”
“I will throw something at you.”
“And risk injuring me? Harsh of you, my little butterfly.”
A pen is sliced out of the air as Nahyuta throws it. Were Simon not versed in kazekiri as he were, they’re certain it would have hit him square in the forehead.
“Easy, I know when I’ve riled you up too much.”
“Out.”
“Are we still going out to that Italian restaurant you found?” Simon asks over his shoulder as he walks out.
“If I haven’t strangled you by then.”
“Fantastic.”
The smirk on Klavier’s face as Simon shoots a smug wink their way before turning the corner makes Nahyuta frustrated. They kick him out of their office.
The third nickname, which may not even be the third, but for all intents and purposes is being considered as third, is… a lot softer than Nahyuta likes being, and for good reason. That reason is Simon Blackquill, who might actually be the world’s most comfortable man to cuddle with.
They’re curled up into his chest, barely suppressing their shivers as he traces idle shapes into their nape. Tonight’s date has been cancelled by the downpour outside, although neither of them really care. It’s a pleasant noise, at least.
“You okay?”
“Yes, why?”
“You keep stiffening up”- Simon brushes his fingers up past where the hair ends on their neck, the movement causing another spike of electricity down Nahyuta’s spine- “whenever my hand gets right about here.”
“Not used to the touch,” Nahyuta admits reluctantly, “so it’s a lot to- to process all at once.” Damn him for doing it again and making their breath hitch.
“Should I stop?”
“Feels good. Don’t. Please.”
“Well, since you asked nicely...”
“Thank you, dearest.”
Simon hums, fingers once again resuming their patterns on the back of Nahyuta’s neck.
“That’s soft of you.”
“You make me soft, now that I know you’re not so putrid as you’d have me believe.”
“Charming. I’ll take it as a compliment.”
“Only the best for you.”
Simon’s fingers drift up a bit higher. Nahyuta tries to steady their breaths- there are goosebumps, surely, covering their arms, and already they’re suppressing the most pitiful noises from escaping their chest. Talking clearly is the only solution.
“You think they’ll call me back out again?”
“Hm?”
“Khura’in. Do you think I’ll have to go back again?”
“Hard to say. Legal situation seems more steady now that Justice-dono won over those few who’d once called the defense home, and with a trickling stream of fresh blood and new lawyers into the courts? It could be just fine without you.”
“It could.”
Nahyuta does shiver as Simon’s hand stalls for a moment, right at a particularly sensitive spot. The movement pulls the tiniest of held-back whines from their throat. They angle their head up to look at him, careful not to move his hand too much.
“Do you... want to go back out?” he asks.
“No. Of course not.”
They rest their head back on his chest. Simon nods above them and, probably deciding to give Nahyuta a reprieve from the stimulation, rests his hand on their hip.
“I like it here,” they say after a minute or so of shared silence.
“Do you now?”
“I do.”
It feels like there’s too little happening, suddenly, and Nahyuta struggles not to squirm too much.
“Clearly you just like it here so that I’ll keep petting you like this,” Simon sighs with exaggerated exhaustion as he grabs one of their hands with his free one. His thumb rubs slow circles into their knuckles, and the ministrations have Nahyuta at ease again.
“Not true.”
“No?”
They consider it.
“...thirty percent true.”
The resulting bark of laughter from Simon makes their stomach flip-flop with such an unfamiliar tenderness that they’re briefly worried they’re nauseous.
“And what of the other seventy percent? I didn’t realize I was that good at soothing your need for touch.”
“It’s getting to be a normal adult, for once.”
“Oh?”
“I haven’t ever had normal- you’ve heard, I’m sure, or at least gleaned as much from the stories I’ve told.”
“Describe it to me.”
“So demanding,” they sigh, “but alright. The rebellion didn’t leave much for normal childhood, as you know.”
“I did have concerns about your brother telling grand tales of playing in the woods unsupervised, because the man doesn’t seem one to exaggerate.”
“It was just us and my father- er, fathers, plural. It’s still a habit to call Datz my uncle, even if he was just as much a parent as Dhurke.”
“Of course.”
“Teenage years were equally as abnormal. I never did get the socializing that most people did in their youths through school. I learned practical applications of the mind and body.”
“Calculus isn’t important anyways,” Simon grumbles, “so you didn’t miss much.”
“And, with my five stolen years…”
“This is the closest you’ve had to some sense of stability, is it not?”
“My childhood was good, don’t get me wrong! I’m just- just not used to this much calm water, I suppose.”
It goes unsaid that Nahyuta is also unused to staying in one place for any lengthy amount of time, but it doesn’t need to be said anyways. Simon knows.
“It is an adjustment period, but you’ll acclimate.”
“I just don’t want to have to change things up too much.”
“You like change being in your control.”
“Can you blame me?”
“Never.”
“Good.”
“Stay the night.”
Nahyuta pulls back to look at Simon. The hand resting on their hip slides down to the small of their back.
“Pardon?”
“The storm won’t clear up any time soon- wipe that look off your face, peach, I’ve no nefarious intentions. You’ll get soaked if you go outside, and your apartment holds emptiness and little else. All that abandoned space is just begging to house a damp chill that will have your joints aching like the old monk I’m sure you secretly are.”
Nahyuta puffs their cheeks out. Simon’s free hand slides down to their wrist, rubs into the muscle there. They can’t deny it doesn’t feel nice- they are a bit sore with the weather after years of injury and use. The doctors call it arthritis. Nahyuta thinks they’re full of shit, but the consistent achiness tells a different story.
“Plus,” Simon adds, voice barely a whisper like he’s telling some grand secret, “I’ve caught word that I might just let you sleep in come the morning.”
“And why ever would you let me do that?”
“Does the concept of a lazy Saturday not exist in your graced country?”
“It does, but I didn’t think you liked me enough for that,” they complain.
“I always like you.”
Nahyuta stares at him, lets out a soft hmph, and then lays on his chest once more.
“Then you can stay right here and lay with me until one of us drags the other into sleep.”
“So demanding, my prince.”
“Like you’d expect anything else, dearling.”