Chapter Text
Mydei had felt pain before; it was no stranger to him. He had suffered before, after all this whole body was made and molded by pain and death, still he could feel exhaustion washing over him.
Challenging one’s fate was scary.
Mydei staggered a few steps back. He must have stopped paying attention because there was a head of spear bulging out of his chest, gold with his blood dripping on the floor. His breath got reduced to ragged gasps as he tried to force his trembling body to stay upright. He needed to move away from the deadly weapon. The spear felt as if it was pinning more than just his flesh. His very soul felt tethered to the Titan’s wrath.
I need to get away.
I can’t afford to die again.
For a moment Mydei didn’t understand what was happening but his feet weren’t on the ground anymore. If anything he had been desperately kicking the air now. His arms fell limply at his sides, fingers twitching as if trying to grasp at something that wasn’t there. His head tilted down, watching his feet, dangling above the cracked stone which was now painted with gold.
He was being lifted and it hurt. He was nearing his limit.
Death was waiting for him, maybe even excited to welcome its old friend once again. As if they were just to have a good talk, drink nectar and eat ambrosia together before she would release Mydei back.
“There will be a day when you won’t be able to leave.” The shadow liked to tell him and Mydei would just dismiss these words with a gesture of his hand, laughing.
“Maybe and maybe not.” He would answer as he stepped on the ship which would bring him back to the Gates of Death. Other souls would just watch him leave with jealousy.
Who was he to defy Death?
Mydeimos, the Undying.
******
“Mydeimos,” A deep voice softly called for him. “There you are.” The boy had to lean his head back to be able to see the man in front of him. It was his father, the king of Kremnos Eurypón and he was smiling at him as he reached out his hand towards the boy.
“Come, it is time I show you something.”
Mydeimos tilted his head to the side, curious while he accepted father’s hand and let him lead the way. They left the training grounds long behind them even though Mydeimos wasn’t in the age to manhandle weapons himself, he liked to observe others sparing.
“Father, where are we going?” The boy finally asked after a while, he knew the whole polis in and out but he wasn’t really aware that there was a street or temple like this. Even the people around them thinned out in numbers if anything it almost felt as if there was nobody with them on this particular path.
“Only to a place where members of the royal lineage and a few are allowed.” Eurypón answered calmly as they stood at the bottom of the stairs which led to the temple. “Today you shall learn about the significance of our warpaint. Soon you will be of age and there will be many rituals that you will have to perform in order to be truly accepted as the crown prince.” Eurypón let go of Mydeimos’ hand and gestured for him to enter the temple.
The boy looked around, perplexed as it seemed not to look out of ordinary. There was a thick scent of laurel, most likely coming out of the steaming bath. Then he noticed his mother Gorgó smiling at them while holding something in her hands. Mydeimos couldn’t really tell what. All he could figure out was that it seemed to be a wooden box. There was together with her as well his appointed servant Krateros and his father’s other one.
“Come Mydei,” She called for him. “Your father will teach you about warpaint.”
Warpaint. Mydeimos turned back to his father and his impressive physique. It was true that he never questioned where the red ornaments on his body came from, after all he had seen the man with them since he was small.
“Today you will just observe together with Krateros. After all he will be the one who shall apply your warpaint for you.” Gorgó kneeled near the big bathtub and opened the wooden box. She put out a number of ingredients that he didn’t recognise. Some brushes and a scroll while Eurypón’s servant assumed his place behind his father’s back.
“Before earning your right to even wear warpaint, you need to purify your body and mind. Wash away any doubt or fear.” Mydeimos watched as the servant slowly helped Eurypón bathe his body. The crimson paint which would never even smear, now quickly disappeared under the servant’s nimble fingers. “This is necessary to do before every reapplication.”
Mydeimos quickly glanced over at Krateros. It seemed that the older male was immersed in the whole thing and so the youngster tried to pay close attention too to his father talking. It felt like taking a history lesson from one of the renowned teachers his father invited all the way from Grove of Epiphany. Maybe he even slightly relied on the fact that Krateros was the one who’d be doing this for him.
“You will need a crimson root, ground it with a mortar and pestle made of volcanic stone to activate its sacred properties. Phoenix ash is stirred into the powdered root, imbuing it with divine energy. Lastly add bloodfruit sap that was warmed and pour it slowly into the mixture. It will turn into a rich, creamy paint with a vibrant red hue.” His mother’s voice brought his attention back to them. She opened the scroll, it was full of instructions and there was a drawing of a man from back and front with the warpaint.
“We had a whole life to memorise it,” Eurypón chuckled as his body got wiped down. “Now it’s yours, so make sure to study it properly. Depending on the situation you might go without needing to reapply your warpaint for a long time.” The man covered himself with just a loin cloth, moving towards the more illuminated side of the temple. The servant and Gorgó followed after him.
“Let's go, prince,” Krateros whispered and lifted himself up too, offering Mydeimos his hand for support. There they moved to observe the king performing a rite to their god, the Strife Titan Nikador while holding the prepared mixture with paint in his hands as if he was offering it to him.
Nikador, a god Mydeimos will one day fully serve too.
“You will know the prayer once the right time comes.” The king said after finishing. “HE will approach you and cast HIS gaze upon you.”
For a short second it felt as if the air in the room cooled down and something brushed against the prince’s ear and then whispered something. It sent a chill down his spine and left an unsettling feeling for a bit, so he looked around if anybody else experienced the same. It confused him because it seemed like nobody else did and soon the temperature returned back to as it was.
The ominous feeling gradually left his mind too and he was able to relax once again as they together with Krateros watched others applying the warpaint on his father’s body.
Since then his father became cold and distant.
******
“Welcome back .”
Mydei groaned, unsure whether it was because his body was pushed to limits or because he recognised who just spoke. When he opened eyes a man with blue eyes forced himself into his view. There was a playful smile on his stupid face.
“What’s with that annoyed expression, I was worried, you know.” The man moved closer, observing if anything was wrong with Mydei’s fiery eyes.
“Stop invading my personal space, Deliverer.” Mydei muttered and turned his face to the side as he tried to push the other man away.
“What? I am merely conducting a thorough body check up.” The other man laughed softly and caught Mydei’s hand with his own. He pulled it up to his lips and placed a kiss on wrist. “I was really worried, you know. You died countless times on the battlefield but this is the first time I have seen your warpaint disappear when you fell unconscious after we arrived.”
Mydei just pursed his lips together. It is true that there were times he had to reapply his warpaint after a battle but it never happened that it would just disappear on its own. If anything it was just a bit imperfect in places where he got hurt.
“It… disappeared?” Mydei’s thoughts started spiraling, was he now forsaken by the Gods because he rebelled against one of them? A cold weight settled in his chest and it felt as if it was pressing harder with every breath. HIs vision started blurring, panic appeared on his face. The hand held by the other man slightly trembled and his fingers clenched repeatedly until he felt a reassuring squeeze.
Something’s missing. It’s so weird.
This has never happened to him before, not during the years of him endlessly battling the Titankin, dying again and again. Without thinking his fingers traced subconsciously over his chest, yet there was no feeling under his fingers except for the skin.
It was unsettling.
“Hey, hey, Mydei I am here.” That man’s voice was gentle and soothing. “ Look at me.”
Mydei blinked a few times, trying to listen to the instructions unconsciously. Usually this soft command would earn Phainon a scoff but Mydeimos was clearly distressed and needed to hear that now. His golden eyes still seemed hazy, yet he tried to focus on the blue eyes of the other male. “P-Phainon,” it was a desperate quiet call.
“Yes,” Phainon smiled at him reassuringly, he understood to a certain degree what importance and meaning the tattoos held for Mydei. He even tried to research it on his own because the Kremnos’ crown prince wouldn’t share the customs of his people with him. Yet there was nothing in libraries of the Holy city Okhema. If there were any records they would most likely be somewhere in Kremnos and that was swarmed with creations of the Black Tide.
Finally after a long while Mydei seemed to calm down, at least on the outside. To Phainon’s big disappointment he let go of his hand and gripped the sheets he was covered with instead.
“I’m not worthy.” Mydei whispered softly. “HE are telling me that I am not worthy.” He clenched his jaw, thinking of what to say next as he avoided Phainon’s eyes. He could already feel the pity in them.
Don’t pity me!
“I can’t possibly become the demigod like this.”
Everything was for nothing.
******
Tiredly Mydei cracked one of his golden eyes open, at first he could hear only muffled voices but the more he focused the more the words became clearer.
They were talking about him but he couldn’t tell at first who exactly. There were different types of voices mixing all together.
“Well, it is very obvious that the one who should claim Nikador’s coreflame is Mydei.” The voice was soft but cold, Mydei could even imagine the hazy yellow-green eyes looking through him.
“Goldweaver is right.” Another more chippery and joyful voice added.
“I understand that very well honoured Heirs but without his warpaint. What exactly is he now?”
“Can he even claim the role of the Nikador’s coreflame’s host?” More and more voices spoke up with hesitation and uncertainty. Mydei wasn’t able to decode who was who anymore, maybe these were healers who took care of him? He doubted that ordinary people would be allowed even near his quarters in Okhema.
Steps echoed through the hallway together with a deep voice which Mydei couldn’t place even if he tried to. He knew immediately who spoke up and somehow a warm feeling spread across his chest and cheeks. “I believe this is the choice Mydei should make on his own, esteemed healers. Your job here is done, you may leave.”
Whoever was asked to leave scurried quickly away as the door to Mydei’s room started opening after a light knock. “Shall we ask him ourselves then?” Phainon’s voice was gentle and when he entered, he reassuringly smiled at Mydei who was already sitting up right and tense.
“Mydei,” Phainon called out to him and nodded as greeting, after him followed two more people who Mydei recognised, Aglaea and Tribbie.
“We can only assume that you might have heard what was talked about just a moment ago,” Aglaea said after closing the door, her voice was cold and detached from any emotion. Mydei was already used to it, so he didn’t really pay it mind.
Unsure he looked at Phainon as if he was trying to look for reassurance from the other man, the warm smile was enough to calm him down a bit though there was now a pressure weighing over him from the expectations others had for him.
“It was quite hard not to.” Mydei tried to laugh it off nervously.
“Then you can give us a straight answer,” Aglaea cut to the chase, wasting no time. Phainon only disapprovingly glanced at her.
“I.. I need to think about it some more, it’s just…” Mydei was a bit lost, his chest was tight and his tongue felt so heavy that the words wouldn’t get out.
Aglaea’s gaze was pointed at him but then she turned her gaze away, expression pensive. “I see.” Shen then muttered.
“We can give you a few more days, sure but the Coreflame needs to be claimed as soon as possible. We can’t allow it to become too unstable,” Tribbie quickly offered a solution, though Aglaea didn’t seem too pleased with it, she just nodded.
“Wise as ever, Teacher.”
Mydei felt very uncomfortable and rather lowered his gaze and just stared at his fingers. He could hear feet shifting.
“We shall take our leave then,” Tribbie said, trying to ease the heavy air in the room. The only one who didn’t leave was Phainon.
“You don’t want to take the Coreflame,” Phainon stated the very obvious as he slowly sat at the edge of Mydei’s bed. His voice was gentle but firm. Mydei didn’t want to look at Phainon, he was scared of seeing disappointment in his eyes, so instead he continued just looking at his fingers gripping the sheets.
“No.” Mydei clenched his jaw, saying it out loud was not easy for him, it just strengthened the sense of failure which settled deep inside him after waking up.
Phainon studied Mydei for a while then leaned closer towards him. He caressed one of his hands and squeezed it a little, hoping that Mydei would look at him, still the crown prince was avoidant of his eyes.
“You don’t trust yourself.”
Mydei just turned his face away, there was no further explanation needed.
Yes, he didn’t trust himself with the Coreflame, yet everybody else was expecting him to tak upon such a heavy burden. “I would like to be alone.” Mydei’s voice was soft, it didn’t resonate with the usual confidence which bordered with arrogance.
“Of course,” Phainon nodded and immediately got up. It looked as if he wanted to say something else, yet in the end he rather turned away and walked outside of the room.
I’d be willing to take your burden and become the host of Nikador’s Coreflame.
******
Vortex of Genesis, a place which was known only to chosen ones and between them was also Mydei. A place where he would sometimes go to recollect his thoughts when fighting wasn’t sustainable enough for him. Even a warrior like him yearned sometimes for peace and tranquility to be left alone with his thoughts or reminisce of the past. Yet now this place which once felt like a secret hideout to him, was anything but that.
Numerous eyes were staring at him as he slowly walked across the ancient pathway leading towards the vortex of swirling starlight. There were floating constellations over it, some more prominent than others, symbolising that they were halfway done with their task of reclaiming the Coreflames. Halfway done saving their planet. Mydei tried not to feel discouraged by his inner turmoil; if anything it couldn’t be shown in front of the others who were just like him. The other Chrysos Heirs. Yet there was already one whom Mydei confided in with his doubts and worries, one that promised to find a solution when this day would arrive.
The others were gathered around the Tidal Bounty. Upon Mydei’s arrival, it was almost as if the ever stagnant water started bubbling and churning in disapproval of his presence. Others exchanged surprised glances, some words were left unsaid. The air around the basin was heavy.
HE’S… HE’S refusing me. Mydei’s breath was shallow, he felt his throat tightening as if something was trying to choke him. To tell him off.
“Today we shall witness the birth of another demigod.” Aglaea’s cold voice cut through the thick and heavy atmosphere. “This is your responsibility.”
Mydei startled, looked over at her, his golden eyes wide. She was right, it was his responsibility, yet when he looked to see his own reflection in the water, there was just a distorted image of him. As if it was warning what was to happen to him had he accepted the Coreflame of the Mad God.
The very same God who seemed to be hesitant about Mydei continuing his legacy.
“I… I can’t,” Mydei gasped and backed off of the Tidal Bounty. The water bubbled as if Nikador was laughing at him now. “I don’t.” He looked at Aglaea once again, her expression cold and eyes seemingly looking through him instead of at him.
“If you won’t become a demigod then who shall take your place? This is your duty .”
“No. No it’s not! I…”
I was abandoned, how can I take over the role…! He wanted to scream but words wouldn’t come through his lips, his chest was tight and Nikadors refusal was apparent but it was clear as day only to him. Nobody else seemed to catch on.
What are you without your warpaint? He was taunting him and Mydei would be quick to take the bait if it was not for Phainon who had been only observing up until now.
“I will become the host of Nikador’s Coreflame.” Phainon’s hand squeezed Mydei’s shoulder, detering away the taunting voice of the Mad God in Mydei’s thoughts. The air in the room shifted and water in Tidal Bounty stilled. Aglaea curiously looked to the water basin, now that was interesting.
“Oh,” Aglaea’s face was void of emotions as always. “ The perfect hero. ” She muttered and glanced over the basin, the water within seemed to softly rumble. “HE’S curious about you whether he accepts you or not is up to him.”
I didn’t foresee that when weaving the threads together. A curious change of events.
Shocked Mydei grabbed Phainon’s hand but Phainon gently made him to let go. He smiled at him reassuringly. “I will be back before you start missing me.” He winked at Mydei with cheeky smile then approached the Tidal Bounty.
Mydei’s cheeks started burning up, he wanted to yell out something about Phainon being stupid but he held himself back. There were too many eyes on them, too many people who didn’t have to be really present. He only shook his head, watching breathless as the water in the Tidal Bounty seemed to welcome Phainon’s presence.
Once again there was a tight feeling in his chest but this time it wasn’t because of HIS refusal, it was…
Mydei realised too late that he was scared. He was scared of losing Phainon.
******
Charred beams crumbled under the weight of smoldering rooftops, the scent of burning wood and flesh was present in the air. Gust of wind howled as if it was the screams of the fallen people desperately calling for help. Their bodies littered the streets, eyes wide open, ruined just like the whole village.
Nothing was spared. The stench of death was suffocating and absolute and Phainon stood there hesitant if he should even walk back into the tragic events of his youth.
“Well, this is foul play,” Phainon muttered to himself, he didn’t expect much when the water pulled him deep inside of its depths, yet he wasn’t exactly prepared to bear a witness of the destruction of Aedes Elysiae once again. He could even smell the burning ruins of buildings.
“Couldn’t you at least show me the happy past before this,” Phainon looked around, hoping to see the man wearing a Corinthian helmet with red plume. He didn’t respond if anything Phainon couldn’t even find traces of his presence anymore.
Within all of that chaos and death stood a figure in black cloak, as if it was waiting for Phainon, it moved to turn its face to him. There was a mask on it, however Phainon was able to tell right away who that was just from the voice.
“You’re late.”
Phainon froze, chill ran down his spine then he clenched his jaw as he pulled from outer space his claymore. Something wasn’t right, this wasn’t the right memory.
This…
“No matter how many times you try, you are still late.” A sword materialised in its enemie's hands, Phainon knew that blade very well. It haunted him in his nightmares, the only blade which could challenge his claymore. “Aren’t you tired of repeating the same thing?”
This cannot be my memory… Phainon lowered his guard pondering which wasn’t exactly the greatest idea. The figure leaped over and swiftly attacked him, Phainon only barely parried the cursed sword.
“Fuck.” Phainon breathed heavily, trying to concentrate but there was just too much, he was agitated by. Especially the seemingly dead eyes of the bodies which were littered all over the ground, seemed to be staring at Phainon only, pleading for him to save them.
There was nothing he could do anymore though. He couldn’t save them anymore, he was worthless, he wasn’t fit.
The cloaked figure laughed, cocking its head, relishing in Phainon’s inner turmoil. “Hey, let me show you something really exciting.” It sounded like a threat but snapped Phainon back to his senses. In confusion he looked over to the cloaked figure which raised its hand to the mask.
“No!” Phainon yelled out. “That’s… not!” He clenched the hilt of his claymore, its weight suddenly heavy.
The person challenging him was Phainon himself.
“You either accept this or prove your worth.”
The one who destroyed his own polis was him.
******
The once lively and famous city Castrum Kremnos was dead.
Mydeimos walked through the silent and empty ruins of the streets for the first time since fleeing from there and helping the newcomers, feeling unwelcome in a place he once called his home. A place he was supposed to take over one day if it wasn’t for the damned prophesy and Black Tide. He had been cast out of this city twice, once by his father and then by the Black Tide.
Yet he also felt as if the ruins were calling him back, telling him to lead back the Kremnoans once again to their former glory and ways of life.
As much as the city ruins felt still and silent, still he could tell that they were not completely lifeless. If maddened Titankin could be taken as sort of a life form. He didn’t expect to retreat back into Castrum Kremnos just because someone else had decided to take upon a burden which was his. The longer Phainon was undergoing the trial, the more Mydeimos could no longer bear the pressure of his own thoughts and he ventured out of Okhema. He hoped to go on a small walk outside of the city and organise his thoughts, only to find himself deep inside of Castrum Kremnos.
He missed the city. The laugh of children frolicking in the streets, steel clamoring across the training grounds…
His mother.
His comrades.
Mydei didn’t really look around much nor did he pay attention to his steps. Left in thoughts he wandered around the place until his body stopped and he found himself in the Hall of Strife. The temple where they used to worship Nikador and the best and bravest warriors of Castrum Kremnos gathered here. All of them hoping to gain the Titan's approval and maybe even his blessings.
He looked around, feeling a little bit lost as if he did not belong here anymore. His gaze fell upon one of the many statues of Nikador they had built for the Titan over the years. This one was one of the few which wasn’t completely in ruins but time was still unrelenting and some signs of aging could be seen upon closer inspection. Without thinking Mydei approached the statue, curious.
“Are you having a good laugh?” He whispered, his eyes darting upwards to the statue’s frozen gaze. He curled his fingers into a fist and hit the statue’s feet in frustration. “What do you want from me? What is wanted from me?” His voice cracked slightly just like the unmoving stone. Mydei just laughed desperately.
Phainon was fighting his fight.
The king of Castrum Kremnos should be crowned in blood, yet you refused your right to rule.
Scared Mydei pulled away from the statue and backed off a few steps, staring once again at the unmoving face of their god. He turned away, feeling the urge to get out of this place though his body wasn’t really cooperative. Instead of completely getting out of the ruins of the city, it moved deeper within it on its own.
Soon he found himself in front of the door which led to the Throne Hall, another place Mydei didn’t expect to see again. With great hesitation Mydei pushed the door wide open, shocked to find someone standing by the throne.
“Welcome back, your Highness.”
The man was facing the throne, showing his back to Mydei, though when he turned to the crown prince, his face was covered under a cape. The stranger fell down to his knees, the cape covering even more of his face.
“W-who are you?” Mydei was ready to charge the man who was foolish enough to just take a stroll in this place. His breath caught in his throat, was this a foe or an ally? Hard to tell, yet the man’s figure was unmovable.
“You have come back to the throne you never claimed. Kremnos has been waiting for you.” The voice was eerily familiar.
Mydei pursed his lips together, unsure how to proceed at first then his face twisted in anger. Someone came here just to mock him?!
“I have no right to claim this throne.” Mydei murmured and finally started approaching the kneeling man, he was high on alert. Only a complete fool would walk into place like this alone. A fool or a dangerous person.
"You should sit, Mydeimos ." The stranger’s voice was steady as he gestured towards the throne. "Kremnos has already chosen you. It’s time you claim it.” The man finally pulled his cape down, uncovering the pale blue hair and annoyingly good looking face.
“ Phainon.” The name slipped past his lips so naturally, it surprised him, since he had never really called the man by his name. Instead he chose to call him by the epithet Deliverer.
Something was different about him.
Was he an illusion? Was he a real Phainon standing now before him? Was this yet another trick and mockery coming from Nikador?
For a moment Mydei couldn’t tell what exactly had changed about Phainon until he was closer to him and the light hit his face just right.
Right of Phainon’s eyes, which was once the same glacial blue as the other, had turned into golden as if reflecting the Coreflame itself but the change wasn’t just limited to his eye. The star which once used to be on Phainon’s neck as the marking of an Chrysos heir has spread much further, most likely to places which Mydei couldn’t see for now. It changed into a constellation, thin and delicate lines with small stars decorated Phainon’s cheeks, around his golden eye, even his lips and a right temple. As if the stars had been etched into his flesh.
Mydei was taken aback, the other heirs have never gone through such drastic changes after accepting the Coreflame, the only one he could think of was Trianon. But her case was way more complicated than that because there were three of them. Phainon was the only one. His fingers itched with the desire to touch the newly bloomed markings, he wanted to trace all across them, see where they would lead him under the clothes.
Were they warm like the rest of Phainon’s skin or cold? They seemed to be like a living being. With each breath Phainon took, the golden constellation pulsed on his face. In a slow and rhythmic glow and when he exhaled, the light faded immediately.
In the end without thinking Mydei reached out with his hand towards Phainon’s new face. He wanted to caress his cheek, feel it for himself but a glimmer of silver caught his eyes.
“M….My hand…” Mydei muttered, confused and surprised but Phainon was impatient. He grabbed Mydei’s hand not giving him even a moment to understand what he was seeing and pulled him into a tight embrace. Phainon’s touch was rough as if he was not only impatient but extremely desperate.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” he whispered, leaning with his head down a little because he was taller than Mydei. Then he suddenly laughed as if he said something very funny, his breath was hot against Mydei’s lips.
No, he couldn’t tell Mydei now and Mydei didn’t notice that even though Phainon was gazing down at him, his eyes didn’t truly look at Mydei.
Phainon’s other hand was curled around Mydei’s waist and he yanked the crown prince closer, pressing their bodies as tight against each other as he physically could. Then finally he leaned in and kissed Mydei, at first it was just a tentative then it grew more and more passionate.
“ The king of Castrum Kremnos shall be crowned in blood.”
Mydei found himself sprawled on the throne, not knowing how he even ended up there, he looked up at Phainon who was looming over him. Their breathing was quick and ragged and his body felt strangely hot.
“Let me serve you , my King .”
******
Mydei didn't know how it happened that all of his armor and pieces of clothes were scattered around the throne but none on his body or that he was now being pressed against the crimson crystal throne. He didn’t really even have time to jog his memory because Phainon was relentless. He was occupying Mydei’s mouth not giving him a single moment to catch a break.
And Mydei would definitely not show any sign of weakness! He knitted his eyebrows in focus, hesitantly placing one hand over Phainon’s neck to bring him even closer while with his other hand he attempted to undo straps of Phainon’s coat. He was successful but Phainon didn’t allow him to celebrate this small victory for way too long.
Phainon broke their kiss and teased Mydei’s lips with a tongue before he started pressing small kisses into his jawline. His breath was hot against Mydei’s skin as Phainon slowly continued exploring almost every inch of Mydei’s body with just his tongue. He could feel the arousal within his legs growing, pressing against his black trousers with urgency, yet he wouldn’t give in, he wanted to serve the new King.
Phainon gently caressed Mydei’s chest a little curious if his nipples would be sensitive and to his surprise Mydei let out a soft grunt when he pinched one of them. He teased the other one with his tongue, sucking it into his mouth and playing with it for a moment before he decided that it was enough.
Mydei was getting impatient or maybe was also incredibly embarrassed that he was being treated like this. Either way, it was very cute. Phainon chuckled, his fingers trailed down Mydei’s naked chest, tracing over the new markings which appeared on Mydei’s skin once Phainon emerged victorious from his trial. He could feel it reacting against his fingers but he couldn’t see the way it was reacting to his touch, glowing for a moment in spots he had touched it.
Solar symbols. That much he has been able to figure out as he started kissing Mydei’s body all over again. All of that leading to one spot only.
He has been marked by me.
It’s not enough. I need to do it somewhere deeper. He has to belong to me only.
Mydei closed his eyes, feeling extremely overwhelmed. He was used to people treating his body with disregard, he himself hasn’t been really treating his body the best that Phainon’s gentle caresses almost made him uncomfortable and still… he didn’t feel like pushing him away. Mydei let out a shaky exhale, his fingers curled into the armrests of the throne as Phainon continued lower until he was kneeling in front of Mydei.
The anticipation of what was coming next was maddening.
“You’re beautiful like this,” Phainon murmured, his low and lustful voice sending heat through Mydei’s body. He stroked over Mydei’s thighs which were bare and exposed just like Mydei’s hard, weeping cock. Mydei tensed at first, but Phainon kissed away the hesitation, his lips hovering over Mydei’s left hip, lingering there as if savoring the moment before the main event.
Phainon was kneeling now in front of the crimson throne, before the crown prince not with submission, but apparent devotion. Phainon, the one who had endured Mydei’s trial and taken upon a demigod role was here now, on his knees before him. And then, as a faithful follower, seeking to please his god, Phainon parted his lips and took Mydei into his mouth. His own hand slid down to press his own cock over the trousers.
Phainon’s tongue darted out to and circled around the head of Mydei’s cock, eagerly sucking on the precum which had been already dripping down the length. It was his first time sucking someone’s cock and the inexperience might have been showing, yet Mydei moaned under him and even attempted to buck his hips and thrust deeper into Phainon’s mouth. He slowly worked his way from the head to the hand which held its base. His own cocked jumped in the palm of his hand the longer he sucked on Mydei’s cock.
Mydei finally managed to open his eyes and he immediately looked down at Phainon who was very much comfortable kneeling between his legs, his practiced motions of his left hand indicated that he had been pleasuring himself while working on Mydei’s dick. The sight of Phainon with mouth stuffed with his cock, throat bulging now too, his wet lips swollen from all the work… It was all too much to take in and once again he attempted to thrust with his hips. It made Phainon growl in a barely audible voice, his gaze meeting up with Mydei’s, an instinct for Phainon at this point.
Mydei leaned more into the throne, arching his back. The pleasure was way too much for him. His body knew only the ruthless pain caused by constant fighting. He was also too aware that he was the only one completely naked in the ruins of the Throne Hall. One could accuse him of making a mockery out of such a sacred place but that was the least Mydei was worrying about right now.
“Hah… ah… W-wait,” Mydei grabbed Phainon’s hair, trying to pull his head away and Phainon allowed it. He let go of Mydei’s cock with a lewd pop as he felt something hot falling on his skin. “F-fuck!” Mydei mustered up only enough strength to curse, incredibly embarrassed that it had even happened to him. His chest was rising and falling with the remnants of pleasure still pulsing through his veins. He just came on Phainon’s face and for some reason Phainon didn’t mind it.
If anything he carefully wiped off parts of the sperm and rubbed it between his fingers then he smirked. He then licked them clean, slow and deliberate as if further trying to tease Mydei. After that he dragged the back of his hand across his cheek, wiping away the rest of the evidence of Mydei’s release. He gently eased Mydei’s grip on his hard, so he could lift himself up and get back close to Mydei’s face.
Phainon pressed a small kiss into the corner of Mydei’s mouth, forcing his way between Mydei’s legs and making him spread them. “Did you enjoy yourself?” He asked in a low voice, the hand which he had been pleasuring himself with until now, carefully pressed against Mydei’s entrance. His fingers were wet, most likely from precum.
“Annoying,” Mydei huffed, his eyebrows scrunched then he got startled by the touch. Uncertainty flashed through his face. He had never done this, not even with Hephaeston, his first love. He yanked at Phainon’s black coat, very obvious that he wanted the other man to undress and so finally Phainon did.
It uncovered more of the constellations that were on Phainon’s face. The golden lines extended over his shoulder, curling across his collarbone. There was most likely a part of the tattoo Mydei couldn’t see for now which was probably at Phainon’s back.
“Like what you see?” Phainon teased Mydei a little bit but the crown prince didn’t bother to acknowledge that. Instead he huffed just like before and turned his face to the side.
Yes, he liked it very much.
******
“This throne was meant for you,” Phainon whispered, guiding the head of his cock to press against Mydei’s thoroughly prepared entrance. They didn’t have oil, so he had to improvise a little but even if the warrior was feeling any discomfort he wouldn’t show it so easily. Slowly he pushed forward, moving his hips into the heat of Mydei’s body until his pelvis was pressed flush against it. He held Mydei’s hips, giving him a space to adjust to his deep buried cock. Mydei was taking it so well but Phainon felt that if he were to praise him, Mydei would cuss him out.
Mydei swallowed, his hands gripping at Phainon’s. He dragged his nails across the pale skin, creating reddish markings on it. His body was much more honest, it grinded against Phainon’s pelvis, seeking more. Phainon just rolled with his hips in response. It earned him a soft pant out of Mydei who grabbed onto his neck and rested with his face into the crook of it.
Soon Phainon started to move his hips, determining the pace which was very slow. It almost felt more like a torture than pleasure to Mydei.
It was very frustrating!
“You pretend like I am something fragile!” The other hero snarled, angry. He locked his legs around Phainon’s waist while he slowly withdrew with his hips only to slam back inside, he repeated it a few times, still in the slow pace until he picked up the speed.
“Fragile or not, this can’t be done with carelessness.” Phainon whispered in Mydei’s ear and brushed over it with his lips, gently nipping at his earlobe as he continued fucking him.
Mydei clung to him, his nails raking down Phainon’s back, leaving behind even more trails of red marks. He was still leaning with his face against Phainon’s neck, his eyes felt a little bit damp. His body responded instinctively, meeting Phainon halfway, desperately asking for more. His frustration from before had melted now into something else entirely. An urge to drown in the heat of the moment, chase his own pleasure and forget everything else.
Forget the dying world around them, the prophecy, the expectations others had for him.
Mydei was gasping for air, his face was flushed as he tried to not be loud. Though the thrusts felt like Phainon was punching the moans out of him and they echoed in the empty, partially ruined throne hall. Phainon forced his legs wider, trying to find a better angle, knowing there should be a special spot which could make this a lot more pleasurable for Mydei.
He also wanted to hear him scream with pleasure but that was beside the point.
Mydei gasped as Phainon shifted, and suddenly his mind was swimming and he couldn’t get a good grasp of what was happening once again. The pressure built between them, ready to be released and Mydei let out a sharp cry left before he could hold it in. His body tensed before the pleasure overtook him. It was so overwhelming that he unconsciously bit down. What he thought was his bottom lip, was Phainon’s side of the neck as he emptied himself all over his stomach.
Phainon followed soon after and what tipped him over the edge was not the tightness of Mydei’s body but the bite. He wanted to bury himself into the warmth of Mydei’s body as much as he could.
They stayed like this even after the pleasure slowly faded. For a fleeting moment, Phainon thought of whispering it, of confessing his feelings in the haze of their shared pleasure. But he was still hesitant, unsure if this was even the right time.
“Mydei…” Phainon started but he was stopped by a hand over his mouth.
“Don’t… not now…” Mydei muttered, exhausted.
While Mydei finally admitted his feelings once Phainon left for Nikador’s trial. Maybe he wasn’t ready to define their relationship which definitely changed after today.
Phainon cleared his throat. "We should go," he murmured.
Mydei simply nodded, agreeing but he didn’t move.
Maybe he wasn’t ready to return back to Okhema yet.