Archive of Our Own

“You’ll tell me, right, Mydei?” Phainon whispers into his partner's ear, lips pressed to the reddened lobe.

Mydei shivers beneath him, a delicious sensation as he clenches, before nodding. At the confirmation, Phainon presses deeper, slow and careful. Mydei’s heat surrounds him, resistant and welcoming in one. Phainon whines at the feeling, shoving his face into Mydeis neck and rubbing circles into the hips of the blond beneath him. 

A feeling he had once only dreamed of with a hand deep in his trousers is now real, overwhelmingly so. Sheer willpower has kept him from releasing pathetically quick.

Phainon nips at Mydeis jaw, a small distraction to the Kremnoan from the prodding intrusion of what feels like a hot rod. “Tell me Mydei, you’ll say it…won’t you?” 

Strong legs wrap around Phainon's waist, an attempt to pull him in in one go, failed with Phainon's restraint. He won’t, not until Mydei promises. 

With a frustrated huff, Mydei finally answers. “Yes, Phainon, I’ll tell you…if I am uncomfortable.”

A liar. His spouse is a liar. Mydei had promised Phainon, he had promised to tell him if he felt comfortable or not – before, during and after their shared intimacy. Phainon had pestered the man until he vocalized it each time. And yet…

…There Mydei is, at Demetria’s fruit stand and woefully ignoring Phainon’s existence. When the Kremnoan looks to him, their eyes catching, he immediately turns tail in the opposite direction, the entire basket of fruits forgotten, and Phainon is left in the dust. Mydei, a warrior who faces everything with steadfast stubbornness, running away. What crime has Phainon committed to be on the receiving end of this treatment? 

Mydei had promised. 

That man who finds lying to be deplorable had done exactly that. 

Sure it was their first time together, and Phainon's first time ever, but he can’t have been that terrible? Mydei does things with certainty, careful thought put into every aspect before making a final decision. If he was that bad, he’d be told. Or banned. Divorced maybe? That’s too petty. The point is, Mydei would do something, but definitely not run from it. Sure Phainon avoided him for a week after their intimacy, but he was just nervous. As he had told Mydei. 

Was Mydei retaliating?

No, he wouldn’t. He appreciates the communication Phainon had been trying to do. 

So clearly, he just has terrible bedding skills and Mydei wants nothing to do with it! And of course, there’s only one person who could possibly help him in this hopeless situation. 

Hyacine watches in dread as Phainon makes his way over in long strides, not wasting any time to chat up whoever comes to him, a determined look across his face. A look Hyacine would punch off his mug if she could. Oh so tempted to give Ica the go to gobble up his cape. But no, she can’t do that. She’s a healer, and also listens to her fellow heirs. Even when they come to her with marital issues she would rather not know about. 

“Hyacine!”

“Snowy…” There’s no cheer in her voice, only the knowing of impending doom as Phainon stands there and starts another spiel about how Mydei hadn’t even looked in his direction today again. It always spirals. He thinks he’s so slick but Hyacine knows why he’s here. Trying to butter her up with mundane talk before asking her questions she does not know the answer to. It’s been happening every day for the past three months.

As if on cue, Phainon sighs and leans his stupid butt on Hyacine's desk. She scowls. It goes unseen. “I mean, surely it wasn’t so bad?”

“I have lost count of how many times you’ve said that exact same sentence. Just go talk to De…” She had tried, truly, to be nice about it at first. But hearing about his friends withering sex life innumerable times had her patience thinning faster than the hairline of the man who’d been here before Snowy.

And yet, ignoring her, he continues: “The other day I even dressed in my finest of robes, second only to our wedding robes, and completely Aglaea approved! He didn’t spare me a glance! I am no longer desirable, not even in looks…” He rubs his hands over his face, probably expecting another few pats from Hyacine. But Titans be damned she’s had enough. 

She rubs at the dark circles beneath her eyes, instantly stopping when an idea pops into her mind. “You said you felt incompetent in your skills, yes? Well, I have an idea!”

Phainon perks up and in a moment of mutual stupidity, and her own desperation, Hyacine tells him of her last resort. 

“Are you sure…?”

“Who else would have expertise in such things? Snowy, just chat them up! Interview! Tell them of your woes! Perhaps some sympathy will come of it and they will indulge." Not that Hyacine could guarantee that either, but if he’s so worried about his bedding skills then surely he’s willing to take the necessary measures to better himself. And she really would like him off her hands. 

Phainon stares up at the building, the foreboding title plastered over the archway in wavy lettering. “What if Mydei sees me? He will have the wrong assumptions, he’s already avoiding me. Hyacine I will be divorced and it has barely been three months!” 

Hyacine rolls her eyes, assured for some reason. She presses her hands to her hips, looking up at his worried face. “No way Snowy, De never comes by these parts unless it’s to help. And you’re innocent! What’s there to be worried about?”

Phainon is unsure, this suggestion is sounding more and more like something Cipher would offer to get him into trouble and not from his helpful Nousporist buddy from the Grove. If Mydei catches him…A full body shudder goes through him, and let it be known that not even his current powers may be enough to keep Mydei from murdering him, or worse — divorcing him. 

Phainon wouldn’t want Mydei anywhere near a brothel either though, but desperate times call for desperate measures. 

But everyone in Okhema knows they are married, their marriage was practically a city wide parade, much to Mydeis chagrin - he’d wanted a more personal wedding, unlike Phainon who insisted on making it super duper special. Maybe that will help him now, as everyone knows he’s taken! All he has to do is describe his woes with many exaggerations, get some tips, and try to bed Mydei with more skill. 

With a more confident smile, he nods at Hyacine and makes way inside the brothel. 

Nothing could go wrong!

“Oh that’s…that’s a bit much, no?” He eyes the current scroll with apprehension, questioning the safety of it. He sits upon a cushioned kline, having willed his mind to ignore what has probably gone down on it. The entire place reeks of bodily fluids and gaudy scents, the walls painted redder than the workers lips with strips of fabric hung neatly as simple decoration. Phainon happily turns a deaf ear to the noises coming from behind the many closed doors with numbers on them, opting to keep inspecting the scroll. Which isn’t much better.

Phainon is scared. 

He is here willingly, yes, but is his mind? Not so much. Or his sanity for that matter. There is the fear of Mydei finding out, and now this. 

“Of course not! Lord Mydei will surely enjoy it!” 

Today is the day Phainon has learned that the brothelwomen of Okhema think him to be on the receiving end. Not all that surprising considering Mydeis public demeanor and Phainons obvious thirsting – which he’s not ashamed of. Doesn’t matter though, he wouldn’t even want to try that with Mydei. Or make the suggestion. His husband would sooner beat him with a rock than say yes to being folded like the paper swans Castorice creates.

As if reading his mind, the sweet woman wrapped in paper thin strips of gauze laughs a little and gives him a reassuring pat. She has much trust in what they cover, the kind of trust he wishes to have in himself. “Listen here Lord Phainon, the first step is communication! The worst you can get from Lord Mydei is a ‘no!’” 

Phainon gives a nervous chuckle. That is very not true — but what if she’s right? Maybe Mydei is waiting for him to make the first move, to add a little spice to their intimacy, despite having no such thing for nearly three months now. Perhaps he was too boring for Mydei. His communication has never been quite amazing anyways, Mydei usually being the frank one who will just say things. It does help, considering he loses many skills in front of Mydei and needs even more reminders that yes Mydei does like him. He had almost avoided their wedding night, had Mydei not initiated. 

Maybe he just wants Phainon to be the one who reaches out first instead of hovering around and waiting for a sign. 

Still though…“Ah, then Miss Aella, you will provide for my funeral if this fails?” 

Precaution won’t hurt. 

“There’s no need to trouble Hyacine, it is a temporary ailment. Not even physical.”

Castorice lets out a long, suffering sigh, having tried every technique in getting Mydei to address the issues he was very much so ignoring. Despite his protests and reassurances of “I’m alright,” Castorice knew better. Why else would Mydei be weeping so often? He spent more time nuzzled within her sofa than at his and Phainons home, how is that ‘alright?’ Not to mention the blatant lie of being physically fine. He’s been throwing up, and he keeps excusing it as sensitivity due to a lack of his immortality. 

The avoidance isn’t helping Hyacine either. Phainon pesters her with topics that leave even Castorice blushing, although Hyacine has lost any sense of fluster with the insistence. She has expressed her wish for violence many times now. As easy as it would be to fix this issue between the married couple, it technically is their own problem to sort out. 

If Mydei would stop avoiding Phainon. 

“What will he think of me? I am his anchor, Castorice, after the eternal cycles…” He heaves a sigh, hugging closer the fluffy blankets that have made their home wrapped around Mydei on her sofa.

“Is avoiding him not worse, Dei?” She turns face, pouring fragrant tea into two mugs - one with a heap of sugar for Mydei.

She knows she’s in the right when Mydei glances away, speaking quietly, as if intending for Castorice not to hear despite them being the only people here. “Clearly he wishes for space as well; he no longer trails me in Marmoreal Market or the baths.”

Castorice has an idea of why Hyacine would like to strangle them both. 

“Perhaps he feels dejected after your rejections.” 

“They aren’t rejections.” Mydei hisses, only to shut himself up just as fast. Castorice has learned it isn’t sharp, just a wave of emotion, only a telltale sign that he may start sobbing within the next few minutes. Which is exactly what he does, rapidly blinking and speaking through watery words to sound mildly coherent. “We need space…until I am not like- like this.” 

With a sigh, Castorice brings the two mugs of tea, pressing one to Mydeis hand and settling with one herself. She cuddles up next to Mydei when he opens the blanket, patting at his thigh. “Dei, there’s nothing wrong with this.” Married and all yet unwilling to share their burdens with each other. Typical of them, easing another's worries before their own. “Help each other, before Hyacine starts beating Phainon over the head.” Castorice lets out a nervous chuckle, these days there is a looming cloud over Hyacine. She might break soon.

“We need space…” Mydei insists. “He was nervous sharing my bed, clearly we are not ready.” 

Castorice had overheard that conversation, as much as it was meant to be private there isn’t much privacy when they were standing in the hallway right outside her room. But perhaps this will resolve itself in due time, talking to either of them hasn’t been fruitful. “I see…It’s alright, we’re here for the both of you.” Mydei may not admit it, but he’d been like this since Phainon had avoided him that first week. Their woes align, stupidity just as well. 

He nods, setting down his mug and wrapping his arms around her. Sturdy and warm, heavy too as compared to Phainons lighter touches; fearful of accidentally hurting, or Hyacine's crushing hugs, reassuring - and sometimes Prof Anaxas stiff embraces, a reminder that he cares. 

Castorice melts into this though, appreciative. If anything, she and Mydei have had more time to spend together because of this weird situation; more chances to cuddle. Although all her shirts end up stained with tears these days…

“I’m sorry…” 

Castorice massages at his shoulders, avoiding precious hair meant only for Phainon to rake through. She presses a reassuring kiss to his forehead, setting her own head atop his. “Don’t be Dei…” She whispers softly, wiping away his tears. “Your company is always enjoyable, I don’t mind it…Sharing time with my friend. I am here for you, as you are for me.”  

Perhaps it’s twisted, and a little flutter of guilt takes her from time to time, but she likes this. Even if her resolution is to have her friends talk to each other eventually.

“Miss Aella, I know it is practice but it still feels…wrong?” Phainon stands above the modeled toy, a full body - though without a head. Technically there’s nothing wrong with it, and he’ll be clothed, but it still curdles as guilt and disgust within his gut. 

“Lord Phainon, you worry too much.” With a roll of her eyes, she moves the toy around. And with such little care that Phainon is at least affirmed she has no ulterior motives. “As you said, your time with Lord Mydei went just fine. There isn’t much else to know, except trying new things of course. So practice! I shall leave you with the manual.” 

It’s been days of her tainting his ears with things he didn’t even know were possible. Each time, he lasted a mere half quint before excusing himself to go push a cart or something. And each time he’d be filled with despair and hopelessness because what? How can he initiate elaborate foreplay if he has to chase Mydei first? Unfortunately, today he’s been caught and captured. Aella had practically kicked him into the brothel and called him a coward with her glare alone. She’s a helpful lady, for sure, but he’s not certain of how it’ll aid him. 

With a groan he makes his way to every possible entrance and covers them up, locking them too. Then he turns to face that dreaded manual full of painted positions that made his face go red. He picks it up, flipping through to find something he wouldn’t be embarrassed to try. It’s not like he didn’t want to, some of them caught his fancy. But the likelihood of him asking Mydei to try a mating press with him without melting on the spot out of shame? Fat chance. 

He tries to find something “normal,” really, he does. But he keeps flipping to the ones he thinks of Mydei in. As much as his face burns in shame, his mind paints a vivid picture for him. He’s always been shameless about Mydei, Cipher’s called him a pervert even. But it’s easier to vocalize as a joke than actually ask for it. He wants to press Mydei into the bed, hold his legs high above and drive into him, watch as tears spring into his eyes from pleasure, pretend his unrelenting pace could plant a baby inside. Aella had called it a breeding kink. But asking Mydei??? The Kremnaon isn’t in the room here, yet Phainon ducks to the ground anyways, expecting him to appear and punch the ideas out of his head. 

He can’t do this though.

Toy or not, he wants only Mydei. Even if it earns him a punch, he’ll ask. Maybe Aella is right! 

With chants of encouragement to himself, Phainon tucks the manual into his pocket, unlatches the nearest window and jumps out. It’s Action Hour, Mydei is likely roaming Marmoreal Market. Or maybe taking a nap. He sighs again. He wants to go back to how they were, comfortable sleeping in each other's arms beneath Kephales’ light, visiting and cuddling Cas together, sparring more than anything. And perhaps a taste of intimacy once more.

He really hopes Mydei will at least consider.

The walk through Marmoreal Market is simple, he ignores everyone's attempts at chatting and gives a slight wave here and there. His sole objective is to find Mydei. Maybe he’s at Demtrias again, Hyacine had given him info that Mydei’s been eating a lot more these days. He could very well bribe him with paying for the fruit. And getting some honeycakes from Kyros before meeting may help sweeten the deal. 

With that thought in mind, he makes his way to the diner, a beaming smile sent towards Kyros before he sets his eyes on the menu. He doesn’t need to, but desperation isn’t a good look. He needs things to go well, and Kyros yaps too much to Mydei. “Kyros!” 

“Lord Phainon, a pleasure to see you here.” It’s a pointed smile, Kyros had noted a lack of Phainon's presence alongside Mydei for nearly three whole months. A rarity like no other considering they’re usually attached at the hip. 

Phainon offers a nervous smile, thumbs twiddling. Usually nothing makes a dent in his thick skin but his nerves are on fire today. “That’s…right. Yes. Could I get a stack of honeycakes to go?” 

Kyros raises a brow of suspicion before nodding and turning. Phainon exhales the breath he’d been holding, hoping that he won’t be this nervous in front of Mydei. 

It’s a few minutes of wait as Phainon settles on a stool, going over the elaborate speech in his mind. As elaborate as an ask for…intense intimacy can be. He’s a ten time debate champion! Persuading Mydei can’t be that difficult. He clutches his hands together, not truly believing himself. Kyros steps out to personally hand him his order, an almost knowing look in the twitch of his brow. Phainon is thankful, it takes his mind away very briefly. 

“Your order, Lord Phainon.” There’s the honeycakes, and like a slap in the face, Kyros pushes Mydei's favorite drink alongside it. Pomegranate juice with goat's milk. “I sprinkled some cheese on top too.” Is that meant to be an extra slap? Only Mydei adds cheese with his drink. 

“You…have my gratitude, Kyros.” He strains out, willing himself not to accidentally set the order on fire or crush anything. He turns around immediately. “I will be off then!” 

He jogs away, holding the juice up so it doesn’t spill. Why does everybody seem to know something is off between him and Mydei? They’re really not that obvious. 

Phainon stops further away from Demetrias stand, just so Mydei doesn’t catch sight of him if he’s there. He takes a moment to himself, willing his heated face to cool. Maybe it does, maybe he’s deluding himself. But smacking his head against the wall does help a bit. Another deep breath, and ignoring the stares of those who saw him, he stomps to Demetrias stand. No Mydei to be seen, but he can stalk around for a bit. Probably. Theodoros isn’t far, he could waste time there as he waits for Mydei. But Demetria notices him first, her old eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“Lord Phainon!” 

“Ah…Hello, Miss Demetria!” He hopes his voice doesn’t crack. “How have you been?”

“Wel! Well! I’ve been alright, business is good. But do tell, how is Lord Mydei?” 

Phainons nods at her idle conversation, body freezing up at the mention of Mydei. “Oh he’s…he’s alright.” Probably. He’s been avoiding him so that’s questionable. “Say, has he come by today?”

“Oh yes! He came by this morning, were you not informed?” 

“No? I mean yes! Yes of course I was informed why wouldn’t I be haha…I was just asleep. For very late. Could you tell me where he headed after?” 

Demetria eyes him questioningly, wondering why he’s so nervous. It’s unlike Phainon to not be talking smoothly. “Well…He was with Lady Castorice, I believe they went for tea testing at some cafe?” 

“I see! That’s very helpful, thank you Miss. May I?” He points to her produce, and the giant bag he brought. Mydei likes fruit, in bulk too, so he can make multiple recipes. He needs to earn points, this is a necessary investment. 

Demetria still looks him up and down, almost concerned. “Well, I suppose so. I would not refuse business.” It’s always Mydei who sees fresh produce and decides he needs all of it, especially when it isn’t salad ingredients. What is with Phainon? Perhaps he’s angered his spouse. With that thought, Demetria shrugs, helping Phainon with bagging what doesn’t fit in the sack. 

With the fruits paid for and bagged, Phainon receives directions to where the tea testing was taking place. It’s no surprise, Castorice and Mydei often spend time trying new desserts and beverages. Phainon counts it as extra luck. His Dei will be in a, hopefully, great mood. 

The cafe he’d been pointed to is a wonderful place, at least from what Phainon can make of staring through their back window. It’s nature themed, all soft greens and warm browns with dashes of tropical coloring. The seating is set up in such a way so as to mimic a bonfire, with low chairs painted brown and tables resembling mushrooms. It’s a beautiful place really, but not as beautiful as his spouse who is currently gracing one of those seats. 

Phainon sighs dreamily, wishing he could be that chair. Mydei sits across from Castorice, dressed in a loose scarlet chiton that covers his upper half – an oddity – and doused in his usual jewels. Though it does not go past Phainon that his lips are a warm pink, a golden blush high on his cheekbones, and eyelids painted gold like his molten eyes and an azure blue that could compete with the purest of sapphires. That gorgeous messy mane of his has been tamed into delicate braids reminiscent of the Aedes Elysian style Phainon had taught him, scarlet tips weaved into strawberry blond, clasped with sun shaped pins Phainon had also gifted. He should thank Castorice with a heap of her favorite tea leaves for this blessing upon his sore, sore eyes. Mydei looks incredible with makeup. Alas, he is on a mission. And if it goes well he’ll be getting Mydei out of that beautiful chiton to see his even more amazing body. 

Wiping away at the drool that had formed in his mouth, Phainon pats down his messy hair and fixes up his clothes a bit more. He can’t look so unmade with a husband that gorgeous. It may as well be a crime. With some more patting at the stubborn strands that just won’t go down, Phainon finally lets it go and makes way to the front door with his sacks of fruit and the to-go order. He braces himself, nervous, willing the sweat to not build up. He really doesn’t want to drench through all his layers while already smelling of soil and fruit. 

With a deep breath, he steps through, a little ring at the entrance. He ignores the poor teenage girl who comes to greet him, making a beeline for the table where Mydei and Castorice sit. Objectively, she looks just as beautiful. Her lavender chiton is styled similar to Mydeis, though with silver accents. She wears the same matching hairstyle, braids weaving up to her scalp, clasped with butterfly pins. Most of the customers eye them both occasionally, but now everyone is ogling at Phainon who had stomped his way over, standing at the edge of their booth, staring at the two opposite each other. He can feel the blood rushing through his veins, supplying his face with more heat than he’d like. He probably looks like a potato sack between these two, matching the sacks he holds. 

He would have dwelled on it, if not for the way Mydei’s eyes are tinged red staring up at him. Phainon does not miss the way Mydei eyes his form but Phainon has a bigger issue. Has he been crying? The very thought makes him forget everyone else, even his objective. The sack of fruits drops to his feet, but he barely notices as he sets the honeycake and drink box down, pushing closer to Mydei. With a knee on the cushioned seat for support, Phainon cups Mydeis precious face with both hands, his brows growing furrowed with worry. 

“Have…Have you been crying?” Phainon himself has weeped plenty, within everyone's arms at some point. And they weeped alongside him. But Mydei hadn’t, and that helped. Every reassurance aided in his recovery. The sight of Mydei crying is not one he ever wants to experience; that would be far from reassuring – yet here his lover sits, countenance slowly slipping despite the way he tries to shake off the hands that hold him. His thick brows scrunch up, the molten gold of his irises growing wobbly in their pained glassiness. It aches. His very being aches at the sight. He won’t allow it, he can’t.

It takes but a simple sweep to pick up his beloved, and in a flurry of red and blue painted with lines of gold, Phainon dashes out of the shop. To where, he knows not. But the comforting arch of their home comes into view. Phainon had been avoiding their shared space, just as Mydei was. Opting instead to sleep around in the open on whatever patch of grass looked most welcoming. Now he runs to their sanctuary, the place they built to spend the rest of their lives within, at each other's side. It was a mistake, avoiding each other. 

He will make things right. 

“...” 

“...” 

“Mydei-”

“Phainon, please.” 

Embarrassing is all Mydei can think of. He had sobbed in silence, from the cafe all the way to their home and even now his tears refused to leave him. He knows Phainon, knows how pained the man becomes at the sight of tears. He’s been through enough, he doesn’t need Mydei unraveling too. 

Once placed upon a kline in their living space, Phainon kneels at his feet. Mydei looks away.

“That was a momentary lapse-” Phainon pressed a hand to Mydei's mouth, stopping him from whatever he was about to say. Because it isn’t true. 

He cups Mydei's face once again, thumbs pressing away at the tear streaks. “Don’t say that Mydei. You- You mean the universe to me, how could you think like that?” 

Mydei blinks at the declaration, the anxiety that had pooled in his stomach melting away bit by bit. He stares at Phainon, meets his gaze before dropping it to the tremble in his lower lip. The silver haired man bites to keep it still, the blue of his eyes replaced with a golden that shines brighter than Mydeis own. His eyes drop lower, and he unceremoniously thuds their foreheads together. If it hurts, Phainon says nothing of it. 

With a sigh: “I’m sorry, Phainon.” 

“Never.” Phainon shakes his head, pressing a kiss to Mydeis lips, softly pulling back to meet his eyes again. “You need not be sorry, it is my own cowardice that has wedged between us. I too apologize, my love.” 

Mydeis thumb grazes over the sharp edge of Phainons jaw, tracing the slight stubble peppering the spot. Laying his nose upon Phainons own, he exhales. “Back to normal then…?”

Phainon smiles, his singular dimple making a cleave through the gloomy interaction. “Of course. I’m sorry again, Mydeimos. I should have talked to you sooner.” He admits.

Mydei smiles, lopsided and weepy still. “And I’m sorry again for running away. By the way…You looked wonderful in your elaborate robes.” 

Phainon beams at the compliment, the blue of his eyes returning. “So you did notice?” 

“You expect me not to, Deliverer? Of course I notice when you’re offering yourself upon a platter.” 

Phainon stiffens at that, a golden blush of shame coming over his cheeks. “Since we’re talking here anyways…Mydei, why did you lie to me?”

The Kremnoan tilts his head in confusion, bangs swaying to show off the perfect cut of his defined brows. It nearly makes Phainon sway, despite him being on his knees already. “Lie about what…?”

More concerning matters have Phainon blushing. “Y’know…our first time.” He whispers the last part. “You promised to tell me of any discomfort, anything at all really, yet you didn’t.” 

“What makes you assume that? You’re the one who avoided me for a week…” Mydei pouts, rightfully so. 

“W-well! I’ve been…sending hints?” 

The blond glares at him, and Phainon is a lesser man for his husband because that look makes him stir. “And you say I lied??” 

“That’s…Ah, I really can’t say anything more for myself…I was nervous, Mydeimos. You avoided me after that week…So I assumed that you really disliked sharing a bed with me.” Going the honest route seems to be working much better. 

Mydei stares down at him, questioning the intelligence of his husband. “Why would I…? Hah…” 

Before he can scare himself, Phainon keeps spilling. “I also asked Hyacine for help…and then recruited the aid of brothelwomen.” Phainon smiles nervously, rubbing at his nape. 

“What…?” 

“Huh?” 

“Are you saying…you cheated on me?!” Phainon stares wide-eyed at the man who does not wait for any answer, pushing the stunned one away and running for their bedroom. Maybe yesterday he would have allowed it, but this time he decides to chase. 

Rounding the archway of their room, he dashes after Mydei. Since when did the Kremnoan get more sluggish? His center of gravity is off…He doesn’t dwell, all the more advantageous when he manages to tackle him to the cushy kline, holding as tight as he can and yelling: “I didn’t cheat!! I wanted tips for sex!!” 

Phainon is clutching to Mydeis shins, waiting for a hit to come. 

Nothing happens, and Mydei relaxes into his grip. “I…What have I become? Of course you wouldn’t cheat…I just…” Mydei rubs at his own face, blue eyeshadow smearing with tears that cling to his lashes. Mydei isn’t wrong, Phainon noticed it too. A weep is one thing, but Mydei has been…jumping to conclusions. And sobbing plenty. 

He rises from Mydeis shins, crawling closer to his face. Mydei lets his hands fall, and really Phainon has to remind himself this is a sensitive situation. Not a good time to pop an erection, no matter how enticing his husband looks. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I should have clarified. I only wanted to learn, and well…there aren’t many others with extensive experience.” 

Mydei blinks, dazed look turning immediately into one of utter joy. He bursts into a laugh – the glint of his canines, the crinkling of his eyes, the updo that reveals his nape…Phainon tried. Really. His willpower is nothing to scoff at, it’s only Mydei who tilts the scale. And seemingly on purpose too. His laugh winds down, a softer smile replacing it, starkly contrasting the knee that comes to rub at Phainons clothed cock. He bites at his lower lip to keep from whining, but they start to spill anyway. 

“M-Mydei…Hold on…Just a moment-!” 

With surprising mercy, Mydei pauses. They both stare at the wet spot marring Phainons trousers; his cock is weeping like a leaky faucet, desperate for whatever Mydeimos offers. It does not help that it's been three months, and nothing could compare to any part of Mydei's body. 

Phainon heaves, knees shaky from that brief moment of friction. How embarrassing, if Mydei hadn’t stopped, he would’ve come. His eyes are shut tight, only blinking open when pushes him away. Phainon settles back on the kline, his face and cock telling two different stories. Why did Mydei push him away? He wants more. 

“Mydeimos?” 

“You…no longer find me attractive, do you?” Preposterous, yet Mydei seems completely serious. 

“I worship the dirt you step upon my love, what have I done that makes you question my devotion?” 

Mydei opens his mouth to answer, nothing leaving. He turns around, nodding his chin to Phainon. Said man blinks, because what? “Mydeimos…Would you really like to know?” Phainon licks at his lips, feeling parched as he stands on wobbly legs to come face to face with Mydei. He grabs at Mydeis wrist, forcing his palm to face him, and presses it directly over the bulge of his cock – then he starts to sway.

“…Mydei…Mydei…” 

The Kremnoan stares wide eyed, ears ringing with the chanting of his name in concurrence with the sway of Phainon hips bucking into his open palm. Phainons forehead is met with his own, his soft whines and whimpers louder with their proximity. The grip on his wrist is iron tight, Phainon using it as though it's a sex toy. Blue eyes meet gold, heated and desperate. It makes that same heat coil within his own gut, forcing him to curl up his fingers and rub his palm as Phainon thrusts into it. 

His eyes drop from blue, to the bulge that so unceremoniously stutters in his hand, as though nervous at the gaze directed towards it. It’s so very… “Lewd…” 

Phainons movements start to stutter, forcibly pushing into Mydeis hand.

“Ngh! Hah…ah..Mydei-! Close! I’m…so clos-?!” Phainon stares at the empty space where his lover stood, his cock weeping some more, though this time from betrayal. He was so close, so, so very close, and Mydei chose that very moment to snatch his hand away and turn. Phainon doesn’t think twice, the searing heat guiding him to follow Mydei. He trails after in wide strides, closing in on Mydei, and once close enough he grabs at him. “Don’t leave me hanging now, my prince…” Phainon doesn’t wait for a retort, how could he when such beautiful lips stood for the taking? 

Phainon presses a kiss to Mydeis lips, almost a shove. As though possessed, Mydei reciprocates with similar ferocity, clawing at Phainons sides. Their teeth clack against each other, tongues dancing in a twist that was all too familiar to their usual spars. “Oh how he’s missed this…”  Phainon forces Mydei against the wall, moans stuttering at the back of his throat, replaced repeatedly by new ones. He holds no shame in how his hips rock against Mydeis, desperate for the release he’s been delayed.

“Shameless…” Mydei huffs, a small laugh escaping him despite the teeth that gnaw upon his lips. He can only be allowed for so long before Phainons tongue is pushing down his own again, craving the taste he can only describe as Mydei. The Kremnoan bites back, lashes fluttering as he works to release Phainon from his trousers. The snowy haired man is quick to aid, fingers fiddling with Mydeis and his belt all at once, frustration brimming when it won’t unbuckle, enough to earn a laugh from Mydei when he rips them right off. 

“Aglaea will have your head, my haikas…” Mydei can’t help the teasing lilt of his voice, unfamiliar to his own ears, but it seems to be doing something for Phainon. He pulls the silver haired man by the waist, inching his hand beneath his undergarment, purposefully slow. How can Phainon care about his pants right now or the sex position manual at their feet when Mydeis hand is on his dick? 

“Ah…Mydei…Mydei please, I need it…” Phainons hips buck, but Mydei holds him in place and continues at his own pace. Just enough to wrap thick fingers round Phainons shaft, earning a pleasured hiss from him. 

“You like that?” 

Phainon nods enthusiastically, thrusting into Mydeis grasp with a loopy smile. “Tighter please…”

Mydei grins, amused at the Deliverer's words. So eager to find his release that he’s making a request. How arrogant of him. He tugs the man closer by his nape, a tight grip on the fluffy strands of hair. Phainon groans into his ear unabashedly, hips switching involuntarily. Mydeis clutch tightens on his shaft, stroking at a painfully slow pace. 

“Mydeiii…” The man whines, trying to get a kiss in. Deplorable, his puppy is so impatient. So intent on getting his tongue into Mydeis mouth, kiss him till he can’t think of anything but pleasuring Phainon and himself. 

“Hm..” He dodges those puckered lips, opting to brush his nose against Phainons jaw. His presses a mean digit to Phainons slit, broken prayers spilling from Phainons mouth as fast as the precome that coats Mydeis hand. 

“Look at you, so ready to unravel for me…How could you make me wait? Hm?” He keeps rubbing his thumb over Phainons slit, gasps of pleasure slipping from Phainon without a care in the world. His hips rock in rhythm with Mydeis fingers around the head of his cock, frenzied with thoughts of release. 

“Myde- Please! Oh Kephale above…ah…Mydei, Mydei..” The blond bites at his tongue to keep from a pained groan, Phainons grip on his hips is bruising. His own erection is straining, a sticky mess beneath his chiton. Yet all he wants is to tease this man to a release, tempted to delay once more just to hear that begging again, the worship aimed at him. 

But today, he chooses to be benevolent. With a kiss to Phainons forehead, he whispers: “Come for me…” And like the obedient dog he is, Phainon spills into Mydeis hand, white painting over flexed digits and dark pants, enough to spill onto Mydeis red chiton. “Good boy.” Mydei coos, a resolute kiss upon Phainons still panting mouth. And he could swear that Phainon twitched again in his hand at the praise. 

Mydei noses at his husbands jaw, going lowe and planting gentle kisses at the mark of destruction upon his neck, solace after his intense release. 

“Allow me…” Phainon pushes against him, leading the way to their kline. The edge of it knocks at the back of Mydeis knees, forcing him to sit down. The snowy haired man kneels at his feet, a cheek dusted in gold rubbing its way up Mydeis exposed thigh. “Let me please you, Mydeimos.” 

The Kremnoan sucks in a sharp breath, gripping tight at the royal blue sheets beneath his hand. This dog of a man licks up his thighs, following the lines of his tattoos, tracing the marks of Strife up to his inner thighs. Mydei trembles beneath the wet warmth, eyes glued to shimmering blue. 

“Ah, why bother with wearing clothes?”

Mydei scoffs, a cover for the groan that almost escaped him when Phainon licked the stain off his chiton. “You shameless mutt…” 

“Only for you, my Mydeimos.” Eyes lidded, Phainon makes slow work of licking off every bit of precome that had stained his chiton, hiking the scarlet fabric higher and higher up Mydei’s lap. His cock stands at attention when revealed, Phainon taking a hold of it as though it is a sweet treat. The haikas makes a show of sniffing at the base, pressing innocent chaste kisses to every vein that lines upon his shaft, determinedly reaching higher. Mydei watches with barely concealed eagerness as Phainon hikes his leg over his shoulder, clutching it for support. His breaths mingle with the precome beading at Mydeis tip, a full body shudder going through the Kremnoan when Phainon runs his lips over it, a glossy sheen forming as he keeps rubbing the salty fluid all over his own lips. 

“Hah! Is this…repercussions for teasing you?” Mydei can barely breath at how erotic the sight is. As if this haikas is using his precome to paint his lips. 

Phainon speaks against Mydeis cock, eyes never straying from gold. “No…I want to taste every bit of you.”

The honesty is what has Mydeis hips jerking in tandem to the pressure forming at his base. Phainon is clutching at him, nosing along his veins and smelling it all. What is wrong with him? What is wrong with Mydei? 

Phainon laps at his base experimentally, watching Mydeis face twitch, and with confirmation that it’s good, he licks a strip all the way to the tip. He’d read it in the manual. Just as he had read, he first licks at the tip, teasing the small slit with the tip of his tongue before wrapping his lips around the head. It’s difficult trying to not knock his teeth against the sensitive flesh, so he hollows out his cheeks according to the instructions. He works his hand at the base of Mydeis shaft, experimental grips to see what Mydei likes, and slowly bobbing his head in rhythm to what works. 

Above him, Mydei pants quietly, trying to keep the muffled moans to the back of his throat. The high of his cheekbones are dusted gold, his markings glowing beneath every touch Phainon provides. Phainon wants to ask if it’s good, if Mydei likes it, but he wants to see it on Mydeis face when he swirls his tongue over the bulbous head of his cock. A satisfactory reaction when the blond's hips twitch up into Phainons mouth. 

Phainon gags a little, unprepared when Mydei had jerked. His tongue is pressed low, Mydei resting halfway within warm walls. The Kremnoan pulls back, much to Phainons chagrin, concern marring his previously pleased expression. “Don’t-” 

Before Mydei can chide him for being an overachiever and hurting himself, Phainon takes the length into his mouth again. The hand that had rested upon Mydeis thigh forms a tightened fist around his thumb – a little tip from Miss Aella to keep from gagging. With all his trust put into her words, Phainon shoves himself down Mydeis cock, burying his nose into the patch of blond hair. Tears spring to his eyes at the intrusion pressing at the back of his throat, but the immediate gasps that spill from Mydei make up for it. Thighs clench tightly around Phainons head, his ears ringing from the pressure. 

It puts him in a daze where all he can think to do is rise from Mydeis cock and take it back into his mouth. He will thank Aella for the tip some other time, for now he watches Mydeis expressions contort at his performance. What a day to be alive. 

Thick fingers reach for his head, clutching at the silvery blue strands as Phainon works his cock. It’s overwhelming, immensely so. It does not help that Phainons eyes won't leave his face, watching everything like it’s the most interesting show to ever be made. With unprecedented strength – despite wobbly legs – Phainon forces Mydeis back to the kline, a momentary break from sucking Mydeis cock so that he can grab at the nearest vial of oil. 

Phainon looms over Mydei, erection pulsing at the sight of the beauty beneath him. Mydei is plumper, abdomen slightly rounded. Almost like he’s pregnant, and Phainon has to bite at his lip to keep from whining at the thought. He kneels between spread thighs, wishing he had an extra pair of arms so that he may pleasure more than one place. 

“Lean your legs over my shoulders love.”

Mydei abides, knees coming to rest over Phainons shoulders. He watches as Phainon pours oil into the palm of his hand, uncaring of what drips onto their mattress. He rubs the oil between his fingers, heated before he presses it to the puckering hole awaiting him. Kisses are peppered over Mydeis cock as a digit slowly enters him, curling up and prodding, searching. Phainon pushes himself closer, licking again, and with his singular free hand he forms a fist again. He teases Mydei plenty, but right now he wants this man to unravel. 

Mydei squirms, fingers tangling into white. A low rumble emits from his chest at the dual sensation, Phainon taking his cock while simultaneously fingering his entrance. Pleased with his reaction, Phainon adds another digit, digging in and curling up to meet Mydeis prostate. 

“You-!” Mydei is overtaken by his own moan, hips bucking into a warm throat. Guilt at possibly hurting Phainon melts into more pleasure as the haikas curls onto his prostate again. Whatever he’s been learning is working, and Mydei is left to wriggle beneath him. 

Phainon hums onto his cock, his own twitching at the pleasure he provides for Mydei. The grip in his hair is tight, yet lovingly Mydei keeps himself from tugging. How sweet, Phainon hums to himself, pressing one more finger in. He earns a hiss from his spouse, thighs involuntarily clutching to the head between them. He’ll have to ask Aella about this too. He needs a name for whatever this suffocation is that he’s enjoying so much. 

For now, he takes Mydeis cock, fingering into the hole that welcomes him so willingly. The thought warms his heart, as much as it does beneath as well. 

The Kremnoan rises up higher, tugging just a bit more tightly to Phainons hair. He leans on his elbow for support, staring him down with molten eyes that are pricked with tears at the edges. Precome drips onto the kline where Phainons dick has been left to the wind, and Mydeis drooling mouth lilts to a smirk. Phainon bucks himself into the useless blankets, brows furrowing because how could Mydei do that to him? When he so wishes to be inside, he's teasing him?

Mydei grins, canines glinting as he pushes Phainon lower on his cock, inhibitions burned away as he seeks his own release. The tight coiling in his gut is searing as Phainon sets a brutal pace with his fingers. Mydei huffs, voluminous chest rising with a line of sweat rolling off. If only Phainon could reach up to lick it off and teeth at the perked nipples…

“Phainon…” Mydei gasps out, muscles tightening around Phainons fingers. His vision swims, firecrackers going off as he shuts his eyes. “Phainon-!” 

Mydei collapses onto the kline, back arching beautifully as his warm seed pumps down Phainons throat. His damned Deliverer has no shame, drinking it all while his cock remains in his mouth. He brings an arm to cover his eyes, heaving at the high of the orgasm. Phainon slowly pulls off of him, dragging his lips. Oversensitivity stings at Mydei, yet his hips still buck. Perhaps he’s also just as shameless. 

Lifting his arm, he looks to Phainons face, lips red from the stretch of taking his lover, eyes still lidded. But the man looks smug, crawling closer to Mydeis face. 

“How was it?” He rasps out, gulping down the air he’d missed. Mydei lifts a hand to meet Phainons jaw, wrapping his legs around the man's waist despite how they feel like jelly.  

He needn’t lie, especially not now, so with a smile he sings his praises. “Wonderful, you pleased me well. Good boy.” He practically whispers the last part, yet Phainon beams a grin brighter than Kephales dawn device and tugs him into a crushing hug. If he knew the man liked to be praised like this, he would've done so sooner. And yet he can’t help teasing to balance things out. “You’re leaking. A desperate mutt, aren’t you?”

Phainon breaths in Mydei, sucking hickeys into the skin of his neck all along his markings. “Mm…I’m your desperate mutt, Mydei. Won’t you praise my loyalty?”

Mydei snorts, threading a hand into snowy locks and scratching languidly at Phainons scalp. “Plant your seed and perhaps your loyalty will have my belief.” 

“Plant…my seed…?” Phainon sits up, his eyes flit to the floor, and in one swift motion he goes to retrieve the manual that had been thrown to the floor along with his trousers. He comes back to kneel between Mydeis legs, flipping through the manual with expertise. Mydei smiles, knowing this perv has likely inspected everything multiple times. 

With a triumphant expression, albeit with a hint of uncertainty, Phainon lands on the page, and he turns the manual towards Mydei. 

A sex position depicting a ‘Mating Press.’ Mydei frowns as he inspects, and Phainon visibly looks more worried. “Calm your countenance Deliverer, I am merely thinking.” 

He does not calm his expression but Mydeis ignores it. The position is…interesting. The partner doing the penetration holds the ankles of the one beneath, folding them in such a manner that their feet rest at the sides of their head. Mydei snorts, eyeing Phainon who is still fidgeting nervously. “You want to try this?”

Phainon nods with vigor, taking the manual from Mydei and tossing it aside. “But! It’s just an offer. Only if you want! It’s interesting, nothing important, it would be amazing if we could try but you really don’t have to! Not even if I want to! Okay…?” Phainon is dusted gold all over, his cock relaying far more information with the way it weeps, and Mydei hums in amusement. 

“Did you think I’d say no?” Perhaps he seems a bit more reserved, and Phainon is too nervous to ask for the things he wants after serving everyone else for so long – but Mydei wants to make it clear: “As long as it’s your cock driving into me, I’ll take it. You’re my lover, of course I want to try new things with you.” 

Phainon may as well start sobbing at the reassuring words, but his cock is doing that for him. 

“Go on then, try me. I want you, you haikas.” Mydei’s eyes wobble against his will, but he doesn’t try to stop it. He had no explanation for why his mood is swinging like Stelles terrible bat use, only that he wants to ignore it. “It’s been terrible, thinking you no longer found me attractive. So show me how much you want me.” 

Phainon nods breathlessly, dazed and determined all at once. He has to show it, he needs to. Because how could he let Mydei keep thinking like that? He’s thrown himself at the mans feet since the day they met, since their spar that ended in a draw. There is nothing he’s ever been selfish for more than Mydei, it’s always been Mydei. He wants for Mydei, for a life with Mydei, and a death at his side. 

“Anything for you, my love…” 

He nuzzles at his lovers neck, pressing chaste kisses that turn wet from tears that have clung to his lashes only to fall. He helps raise Mydeis legs, calloused fingers encircling the Kremnoans ankles and guiding them to rest beside his head. “Amazing…you’re amazing…look at you my love, open and exposed for me.”

“You embarrass me…” Mydei flushes, yet he does nothing to stop the bastard from speaking, enjoying the words he receives. Because they aren’t wrong, only for Phainon will he ever lay himself in such a way. His hands come to rest upon the back of his thighs, helping keep them in place as Phainon positions himself. 

Phainon pours a generous heap of oil upon himself, stroking languidly as he stares down at Mydeis waiting hole, already prepared from earlier. Mydeis watches him with an intense gaze, amber speckled in gold so beautiful Phainon could come from looking at them alone. And perhaps he would if not for the impatience that shines through. 

Phainon grins, pressing his head to the entrance that immediately puckers, as if trying to pull him inside, as desperate as he is. “Patience my love…” 

Holding himself, a hand over the one on Mydeis thigh for support, he enters. It’s tight, searing hot like their very first time. Every inch that is pushed in is one Phainon agonizes through, willing himself to not shamefully come too quick. Mydei clenches around him, softly sighing as he’s filled out. Sweat drips down his forehead, and Phainon pushes his bangs aside to press a kiss to his forehead. How beautiful his partner is, truly he could wish for nothing more. 

Mydei tugs him closer, leading his lips to press against his own instead. Warm and soft, yet Phainon knows him well enough to know his objective is to get inside faster. “Mydei-”

“Just put it in…You think I haven’t touched myself to the thought of you while we weren’t coupling? Go on, I can take you, I want you.”

With tears springing to his eyes, Phainon makes an immediate push at Mydeis request. How giving his lover is, helping him find his relief without worry. “Faster?”

“Faster.” 

Mydei clutches at his neck as Phainon sets a brutal pace, his cock pushing in and out of Mydeis hole with dirty squelches. He’s sure that their mixed fluids run down and drip to the bed, and Phainon will have to beg for praise again when he cleans. But all he can think of now is ravishing Mydeis tightness, snapping his hips against Mydeis ass bared only for him. He keeps a close ear, curse him if he misses even a single moan that falls from his beloved's lips. 

“Mydei…Mydei…” Chanting his lovers name as though it’s a prayer, Phainon holds him tight. The coil of his gut gets tighter and tighter, his cock weeping inside. He wants to come so bad. 

“Please…Mydei please…” 

His lover hums, lovingly stroking at Phainons hair. “So fast? Hold on for me just a little longer my love.” 

Phainon whines into Mydeis neck, relishing in the digits that rake through his scalp. Oversensitivity burns at him, but his lover hasn’t said so. He can’t come. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet. 

“Mydei..” He wants to cum, he can’t take it anymore. “Please Mydei, I’m begging you..” 

Mydei scratches behind his ear, whispering sweet nothings despite his own stuttering breath. Yet no command to allow Phainon what he seeks. Phainons singular retaliation is pistoning inside harder, for perhaps his body will give in before his will.

Mydei hums, reaching hand down to his own erection and stroking in tandem to Phainons rocking. “Truly impatient you are, go on then.” Phainon finds it unbearable how good it is, gasping as he slumps onto his love. Mydei pants the space between them. And Phainon twitches inside; he can’t help the occasional jerk of his hips. Impossible, yet he wants to go deeper. See if perhaps there is a womb awaiting him. Why of course there is, Mydei is everything he could ever want. 

“Ah, we shouldn’t have, not like this…You’ll be pregnant…Oh Mydei, I’m so very sorry…” Delirious, Phainons hips speak more truthfully for him. Not sorry at all, pushing the semen deeper inside. It makes Mydei flush, because why does this man want him pregnant? They may share the mutual wish for children, but Phainon…wants Mydei to carry? That’s…It’s so…

“You’re shameless…” 

“Hehe…” 

“That’s impossible.” Mydei keeps looking over the images again and again, ignoring Phainons happy hollering. Two beans, not all that big but big enough that he should have noticed. And then there’s the guilt because he’d been insulting these two beans for his weight gain without realizing. 

“Ah, it’s definitely…something?” Hyacine looks just as confused. 

Mydei and Phainon had come for their checkups, everything was well right up until Hyacine started focusing on Mydei. She had been concerned at first, chalking it up to a possible tumor or an injury that had grown out of control. Phainon had been terrified for the two of them together, Mydei too flabbergasted for any sort of reaction except what. 

Was he so dependent upon his immortality that his body is now falling apart? Will he die? It seemed ironic really. 

But then Hyacine gave him a weirder answer. “You’re pregnant.”

Now, Mydei is still left dumbfounded. Phainon though, Phainon is ecstatic. The blond holds one of the ultrasound images, Phainon staring and grinning at all the others. Two beans. Growing inside him. He reaches a hand down, rubbing over where he can only feel the firmness of his grown belly. He should’ve listened to Castorice sooner. 

“It’s not too late Dei, if you want an abortion.” 

Phainon pauses in his jolly very abruptly, not meeting Mydei's eyes. He hadn’t exactly thought about that. But it’s up to Mydei if he wants the children or not, and Phainon would rather not force him into any sort of decision.

“I…I don’t want to make this decision alone. Hyacine, may we have a moment please?”

Hyacine nods, “of course,” and with Ica under her arm she leaves the room. Phainon walks to Mydei, settling next to him on the fluffy medical kline. He puts the ultrasound images next to him, reaching for and cupping Mydeis hands. “It’s up to you, Mydei. But…No matter what you choose, I will be at your side.”

Mydei blinks, and with a finger he traces the oval of his husband's nails. “Do you not wish for children?” 

Phainon wraps his hands around Mydeis, weaving their fingers together. “I do, but you’re my priority, Mydeimos. It can be now, or never, but I’m here with you, no matter the case.”

The Kremnoan snorts, leaning his head on Phainons shoulder. “You’re sappy.”

“How can I not be? Mydeimos, you take my breath away no matter what you do or say. Your mere existence provides me with more wants than I ever thought I deserved, I-”

Mydei connects their lips, pulling away to thump their foreheads together. He rubs at Phainons pulse with a thumb. “You talk too much, prepare to be a father instead.”