Archive of Our Own ^beta

As often as he and Mydei bickered, Phainon had impeccable patience.

He was kind, always eager to lend a helping hand even without being asked to. Once, he threw himself into the middle of an altercation between civilians in an attempt to break up the fight, only to take a few blows in the process. And yet, he had mostly been concerned if anyone else had gotten hurt in the crossfire.

Beyond his ridiculously big heart, Phainon was a gifted speaker. His sincerity and earnestness gave weight to his words, effortlessly winning over the masses in Okhema. He certainly wasn’t short on devoted admirers within the holy city either, having built up a reputation for himself since the days he was studying at the Grove.

In any case, Phainon was difficult to anger. Though proficient in combat, he was far from quick to resort to violence. Mydei couldn’t recall seeing him truly mad since the instance he had once died and revived, shrugging off his momentary death as if it were nothing more than a scratch, but even then, Phainon had been more devastated than enraged.

Nevertheless, if anyone in Amphoreus ever did find themselves on the receiving end of Phainon’s actual wrath, and unless they shared Mydei’s gift of immortality, they probably wouldn’t live to see the next Entry Hour. Probably wouldn't want to either.

Honestly, Mydei wanted to test that theory.

Any ordinary citizen in Okhema would've found that nonsensical. Going to extensive lengths to anger the Deliverer? Incredibly ill-advised decision, considering Phainon’s ability to bench-press the weight of three or more dromas.

Once, Hyacine talked about how Phainon had hauled Aquila down from the celestial skies with a chain and naught but his bare hands, which the typical Okheman had oohed and ahhed over, awed by his bravery. Mydei, on the other hand, mainly found the entire anecdote to be unbelievable levels of sexy, because what do you mean Phainon had pulled a literal Titan out of the damn sky? With his bare hands?

So maybe Mydei had a strength kink. So maybe he had private fantasies of his lover manhandling him. So what? There was no shame in that, only indignation, because if Phainon were to be made aware, he'd waste no opportunity to tease him relentlessly for it.

No one else really knew, or perhaps everyone else had imagined their relationship to be on equal footing because they'd frequently witnessed instances of the two of them squabbling over trivial issues or competing in silly bets until Aglaea or Tribbie inevitably stepped in before public disturbance turned into damage of public property, but Phainon could be a profound asshole. Deep down, he had it in him to be really, really mean to Mydei.

Mydei was curious. He wanted to see that happen.

It was no secret that they enjoyed riling each other up and could get carried away during their spars. Right after they'd first met, they had fought for ten days and ten nights straight until their bodies physically gave out although with no clear victor in sight. Even after discovering that Mydei was an omega, Phainon had been no less delighted, elated that he'd finally found a peer in strength. 

Mydei, admittedly, thought the same. Alphas were often prideful but had nothing to show for it. Phainon had been the first to withstand his blows and actually made him sweat and bruise. It was love at first fight.

But this was a different situation. Phainon was merciless in battle but was a sappy lover, obsessed with Mydei in every aspect of the word and worshipping his body like a devotee would a deity.

While telling stories about his hometown, he'd told Mydei about the pet dog his family owned. It had fluffy white fur like Phainon’s snowy hair and always greeted its owners with a cute, bright smile. It sounded just like Phainon, to be honest. Mydei liked that side of him too, the part that was enthusiastic and eager to please with his affection.

He just wanted to witness the… animalistic side of Phainon, for a change.

A rational voice in his head that sounded like Aglaea and strangely, Dan Heng, was calmly advising him that he was probably biting off more than he could chew. A louder voice that sounded like, even stranger, the Trailblazer, was hounding him and telling him to go for it.

Mydei had gotten somewhat close to her after her significant contribution to saving Amphoreus from utter destruction. It was not of his own choice. Stelle followed him even to the highest rooftops just to see what he was up to. Besides, Phainon held much respect for her despite her eccentric personality.

Anyway, there was no word for cowardice in the Kremnoan dictionary. Let it be known that Mydeimos’ resolve was unwavering and absolute. With Amphoreus finally basking in a long-awaited era of peace, he officially set his plan into motion: to piss the Deliverer off until he snapped.

There was no word for failure in the Kremnoan dictionary either. Mydei would surely see to that.

Devising the first stage of his plan was simple. Provoking Phainon until he was truly angry would take time, but when it came to Mydei, and especially Mydei’s body, his self-restraint would all but vanish. 

Really, all Mydei had to do was dangle himself like a toy before a puppy, and Phainon would take the bait without hesitation. Offer an inch and he'd take a mile. His obsession with Mydei wasn't an exaggeration. An understatement, even. Mydei would take advantage of that.

Offer an inch, and just as Phainon believed he had Mydei within his grasp, pull away at the last second. Everything would fall right into place after that. 

They were sitting together in a secluded corner within the Hero's Bath. It was past Curtain-Fall Hour and they had no one's company but each other's, a daily routine they fell into ever since Phainon had the brilliant idea to drag Mydei to the baths twice in one evening.

Although there was no longer any threat of the black tide or dangerous monsters looming over them, they still sparred often. It was their method of releasing tension and they relished in that familiar song and dance, as unconventional an activity between lovers it may seem to the people of Okhema. To Kremnoans, this was rather common. All in all, Mydei enjoyed it and he knew so did Phainon.

Of course, since the baths were utterly empty because all the normal people were fast asleep at this ungodly hour, they were free to do whatever they wanted without the risk of any eyes or ears to disrupt their time together. 

Mydei used to complain about going to the baths so deep into the night when all he wanted was to sleep at that point, not realising that this was, in fact, a boon, bringing him back to the initial step of his plan. 

There was a splash of water as Mydei moved, grabbing Phainon by his bare shoulders and shifting onto his lap. A surprised noise escaped Phainon as Mydei leaned forward to press their lips together, but that didn't deter him from putting his big hands on Mydei’s waist. 

“You're being forward today,” Phainon commented with a soft moan, staring at Mydei with palpable desire in his striking blue eyes. “Just can't get enough of me, huh?”

Egotistical bastard. Normally, Mydei would respond with an irritated hiss of HKS, shut your trap, before kissing Phainon hard on the mouth until things eventually escalated and the baths got all steamy from their activities, but that wasn't the plan tonight. He wouldn't give Phainon the satisfaction of being right. 

Instead of acting like Phainon had anticipated, Mydei pulled away, heaving his body off Phainon’s lap. Phainon stared back at him with wide eyes, the dumbfounded expression on his face clearly indicating that he'd not been expecting that. 

“Mydei?” Phainon asked, nonplussed. 

“What?” Mydei retorted, feigning ignorance. “Were you expecting more?”

“Well, yeah,” Phainon said, blinking owlishly like he still couldn't comprehend what was going on. “That was only one kiss.”

“It was,” Mydei agreed. 

“We never stop at just one kiss.”

Mydei faked a yawn, stretching his arms like a tired chimaera stretching its hind paws. “I'm tired,” he said, pretending to not hear Phainon’s baffled stammer. He lifted himself from the baths, droplets of water dripping down his naked skin as he dressed himself in a plain chiton. 

“What?” Phainon was still sitting in the baths, though he whirled around to look at Mydei as Mydei tucked his feet into his slippers and began to leave, “Mydei, where are you going?” 

“Back to my quarters,” Mydei replied, muffling another faux-yawn behind his palm.

Phainon's eyebrows rose to his hairline. “You're not going back home?” 

Home referred to the house they recently began sharing. Although it was rare, because Phainon argued that having Mydei to cuddle to sleep aided his insomnia, but they still occasionally spent nights at the private quarters Aglaea meticulously provided for each Chrysos Heir.

“I have things to do tonight.” 

“Things? What things?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Mydei scoffed, “I'll see you at Lucid Hour.”

“Mydei,” Phainon spluttered. 

“Lucid Hour, Deliverer.” 

Mydei didn't look back as Janus’ doors closed behind him, holding back a grin as he recalled the flabbergasted look on Phainon's stupid, cute face. 

When the next Lucid Hour arrived, Mydei found Phainon at their usual meeting spot near Marmoreal Market, where they always began their mornings with breakfast and a leisurely stroll through the lively streets. Phainon’s tall, unmistakable frame made him stand out in any crowd, but today he seemed less laid-back than usual. He kept fidgeting with his teleslate, scratching his head and glancing around every few minutes, as if waiting anxiously for something to appear. 

This was amusing. Mydei wouldn’t put it past the Deliverer to have kept himself up at night pointlessly worrying and losing sleep over last night’s events.

Finally stepping into Phainon’s line of sight, he greeted him with a simple, “Deliverer.”

Like an enthusiastic dog, Phainon perked up instantly. “Mydei,” he said, flashing him a bright smile as tension visibly oozed out of his shoulders. 

Mydei tilted his head. “What’s with that look?” he huffed in amusement, “It almost seems like you didn’t think I’d show up.”

“Well,” Phainon’s smile turned sheepish as he rubbed his nape, “Guess I was worried over nothing,” he said, visibly relieved, “Shall we go eat? I’m starving.”

Mydei complied, allowing Phainon to take the lead. He behaved no differently than usual during breakfast and as they walked side by side past the bustling stalls, he could tell Phainon was at ease again, the anxiety from earlier having completely melted away in the comfort of their familiar routine.

Unbeknownst to Phainon, lulling him back into a sense of normalcy had all been part of Mydei's objective.

Casually, he brushed his fingers against Phainon’s, and as their eyes met, Mydei glanced towards the desolated alleyway an acceptable distance away from the hustle and bustle of the market. It didn't even take a second for realisation to dawn on Phainon’s face before his eyes lit up with excitement, and in a blink of an eye Mydei was being pulled in that direction.

A shadow passed over them as they ducked into the alleyway. Phainon’s right hand was occupied with a bag of groceries, which gave Mydei the advantage of spinning Phainon around and pinning him to the wall, both hands firm against his chest.

They stayed like that for a heartbeat, their lips a breadth apart.

“Mydei,” Phainon then said breathlessly, “Kiss me.”

Mydei obliged, their lips meeting in a sweet, unhurried kiss. The bag of groceries slipped from Phainon’s hand and hit the ground with a soft thud as he wrapped his arms around Mydei’s waist, pulling him closer.

When they finally parted for air, Phainon let out a dreamy sigh, gazing at Mydei with unmistakable adoration. “I missed that.”

“We were in the baths together just yesterday.”

“But you only let me kiss you once,” Phainon whined, hands drifting up to cradle Mydei’s cheeks. “C’mon, kiss me again before I die.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Mydei murmured with a half-laugh, half-scoff, but leaned in anyway, feeling Phainon smile against his lips.

They stayed like that for a few moments longer until Mydei felt Phainon start to pull back. However, he didn’t let him. Instead, he held on and deepened the kiss, which made Phainon open his eyes, confused but compliant. He clearly wasn't complaining.

Then Mydei slipped a knee between his legs.

The startled noise that escaped Phainon was muffled, his grip tightening on Mydei’s shoulders as Mydei began to grind his knee against him.

“Mydei?” he gasped, eyes wide and breath quickening, a thin strand of saliva still connecting their parted lips. “What are you— We’re in public!”

“I know,” Mydei replied in a low voice, “So you better be quiet, Deliverer.”

Phainon must've taken that as some sort of challenge, valiantly holding back his noises as Mydei continued his assault, though it was a futile effort. He moaned into Mydei’s mouth, and gradually what was once a simple kiss turned into a full-blown make out session, and Mydei honestly wasn't complaining either when he felt Phainon's warm hands wander down his bare back.

Public indecency must be the last thing on Phainon's mind right now, considering how he was now grinding back shamelessly against Mydei’s knee. That, combined with how he was kissing Mydei like he was going to devour him whole, it didn't take long for Phainon’s cock to stir in his pants.

Breaking the kiss, Phainon's lips lowered to ghost over Mydei's neck, where his scent glands were. “You're so hot,” he mumbled, rubbing his clothed cock against Mydei’s knee, cheeks shining with gold, “Mydei, can I—"

Without warning, Mydei removed his knee from between Phainon's crotch and took two steps back. Phainon's instantaneous change in expression could only be described as priceless.

The Deliverer gaped at him. “Mydei,” was all he said, rubbernecking him like he couldn't believe the audacity Mydei had to pull away. “What are you doing?”

“I heard someone coming,” Mydei lied.

“There's— what, there's nobody!” Phainon exclaimed, angling his head to look down the alleyway before returning his attention to Mydei so fast he nearly got whiplash, “Mydei, please—”

He was interrupted by a hum. “I've suddenly remembered I have an appointment with Krateros at this hour,” he did not have an appointment with Krateros at this hour, but Phainon didn't know that. “I'll be heading to the Kremnoan Detachment.”

“Mydei,” Phainon’s voice bled with utter desperation simply by saying his name. His clothes were rumpled, his cheeks were flushed, and worst of all, he was still rock hard. “You literally did this to me. Can't you do something before you go—”

“It's important.” Mydei cut him off.

The sight of Phainon spluttering and not knowing what to do was beginning to become very entertaining, “You can't just leave me here like this.”

“It's important, Phainon,” Mydei insisted, already turning on his heel as Phainon balked at him. “I have to go.”

“Ugh— Mydei!”

Without a backward glance, he left the alpha slumped against the alley wall with a frustrated groan and a problem in his pants, one he’d have to take care of on his own.

Leaving Phainon high and dry was so much fun. Honestly, why hadn't Mydei done this sooner?

Phainon had him cornered a little after Action Hour that very same day.

“I thought you were at the Kremnoan Detachment,” Phainon said, finding Mydei instead in the Garden of Life.

“I just returned,” Mydei replied evenly. He wasn’t lying. After blueballing Phainon in the alleyway, he’d paid a visit to the detachment, checked in with his people and shared a chat with his old teacher. He'd had a pleasant, uneventful afternoon. Judging by the frazzled look on Phainon’s face, the same probably couldn't be said for him.

“... Right,” Phainon’s voice was taut, the clink of his armour and the heavy steps of his boots drawing closer. “Mydei, we need to talk.”

“About what?”

Mydei glanced up to find Phainon frowning, distress plain in his expression. “Did I do something?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed. “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”

Mydei tilted his head, his blank expression betraying nothing. “I’d like to know how you arrived at that conclusion.”

Phainon shifted where he stood, his lips drawn tight. “You’ve been acting odd,” he pointed out, a hint of a whine in his tone, “I thought maybe I did something wrong.”

“How have the meals I’ve made you been lately?”

Phainon blinked. “Uh. Delicious. As always. Why?”

“You should know by now that if I were truly upset at you, I’d have poisoned your soup or over-salted your stew,” Mydei said with a dry snort. “You’re slipping, Deliverer.”

“Oh. Right.” Phainon blinked again, pausing as if contemplating something before hurriedly shaking his head as he sputtered, “That still doesn’t explain how you could just leave me there like that! Do you have any idea how humiliating that was?”

Mydei scoffed loud enough for it to echo across the Garden of Life. “You’re the one who lost control and got hard, not me.”

Phainon looked absolutely gobsmacked, “Are you seriously trying to absolve yourself of any responsibility right now—”

“Phainon! Mydei!" 

Phainon, who had been barely three inches from Mydei’s face mid-argument, snapped upright like he'd been caught committing treason.

A giggle. “Oops, did I accidentally interrupt something between you two?”

“Cyrene,” Phainon coughed, “Is something the matter?”

Cyrene gave him an amused look, to which Phainon pretended not to see. She smiled, her pink hair fluttering in the light breeze, “The celebration banquet is tonight,” she reminded, “Everyone will be there, so don't forget to show up, okay?” 

Phainon’s gaze softened. “Of course. We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Humming, Cyrene’s expectant gaze shifted towards Mydei. She was like a sister to Phainon, and so it was hard not to like her. Mydei nodded, “We'll see you there.”

Cyrene winked, “Alright. Then I'm sorry for interrupting your flirting earlier—”

“Cyrene, please,” Phainon groaned.

“You're no fun to tease,” Cyrene lamented playfully, then finally left with a joyful wave, leaving the two of them alone together once more.

The moment she was out of earshot, Phainon let out a long breath. “That was close,” he muttered. “What if she’d overheard us?”

“That would’ve been your fault,” Mydei replied flatly. “You were the one practically shouting despite knowing that this is a public space.”

Phainon’s eyebrow twitched. “Well, Your Highness,” he said, voice carefully neutral, “I seem to recall someone pressing me up against a wall in an alleyway earlier. Also in a public space, in case you've forgotten.”

He was getting ticked off. Mydei only rolled his eyes, biting back a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Maybe you should work on your self-control,” he said, almost mockingly, rising from the marble bench and dusting off his clothes. “I’m leaving.”

“Mydei,” Phainon called after him, sounding exasperated. “I don't think this conversation is over, you know.”

“You’re just overthinking things, Deliverer,” Mydei said without turning around. “I’ll see you at the banquet.”

And just like that, he was gone.

With the Trailblazers as their guests of honour, and especially during the Month of Joy, the banquet was expected to be a lively affair.

Aside from the civilians, all of the Chrysos Heirs were in attendance. Aglaea wore a rare smile, looking more pleased than Mydei had ever seen her as she raised her chalice to announce the commencement of the feast in celebration of the Flame-Chase Journey’s success.

“Yo, Phainon,” Stelle chirped as she dropped into the empty seat beside him, still chewing. “Missed you lots, man. How’s life?”

“Stelle, don’t speak with your mouth full,” Dan Heng sighed from her other side, tone somewhere between tired and resigned.

Phainon gave a sincere smile. “It’s great to see you both again,” he said, then shot a glance towards Mydei before leaning a little toward Stelle. “No offence, partner, but this was actually supposed to be—”

“Oh, shoot. Was this Mydei’s seat?” Stelle asked, blinking mid-bite.

Phainon opened his mouth to confirm, but Mydei cut in first. “It’s fine. You don’t need to move.”

Stelle hesitated, not looking convinced. “You sure?” she asked warily, then grimaced with mock-dread. “You’re not gonna smite me later or something, right?”

Mydei, already familiar with Stelle’s flair for melodrama, only snorted. “I’m not unhinged,” he assured, before adding, “Besides, the actual clingy one in the relationship is sitting right next to you.”

“Hey,” Phainon said, sounding affronted, but said nothing to refute otherwise.

In the end, Mydei sat beside Anaxa, who was seated across from Aglaea. With the both of them thoroughly engaged in some sort of dispute only they could make sense of throughout the entire dinner, Mydei had little to pay attention to apart from the food, which was fine. He enjoyed good food.

“Lord Mydei,” Castorice, who sat on Mydei’s other side, said suddenly, “Did something happen between you and Lord Phainon?”

Mydei hummed. “What makes you ask?”

“Well, you two aren’t sitting together for the banquet,” she explained, voice observational, “And Lord Phainon keeps staring at you.”

As if Mydei hadn’t already noticed the pair of eyes burning holes into his face once the banquet had begun.

“The latter isn’t out of the ordinary, to be honest,” Castorice continued, “Something just feels different tonight. It's only a hunch of mine, so I apologise if I'm overstepping.”

Yes, because Phainon was slowly unravelling. Mydei knew the signs.

Of course, he couldn’t very well explain that to Castorice without sullying her delicate ears, although considering the extremely detailed erotica she’d begun publishing anonymously after peace settled over Amphoreus and left her free to pursue her passions, maybe she wouldn’t be so scandalised after all.

Still, maybe it'd be wise not to discuss that in such a public setting. Mydei shook his head, “Everything’s alright. Thank you, though, Castorice.”

As the banquet went on, Mydei did not look once in Phainon’s direction to make eye-contact. He had an inkling that Phainon was trying to distract himself in animated conversation with the Trailblazers, but could not resist letting his gaze wander. How laughable. It was so pathetic it was almost adorable.

Even so, Mydei did not give in. He steadfastly avoided each and every one of Phainon's attempts to catch his gaze, instead immersing himself in light conversation with Castorice, and later with Aglaea and Anaxa, once they'd both finally grown weary of arguing with each other.

As the night deepened, the festivities gradually wound down. Attendees began to take their leave. Anaxa departed first, murmuring something about ongoing research. Aglaea followed soon after, accompanied by the Ladies Tribios, who were visibly sleepy.

Once the crowd thinned and the other Chrysos Heirs had dispersed, Mydei set his plan into motion.

Seducing Phainon was never a difficult task, not if you were Mydeimos the Undying.

Throughout the banquet, Phainon’s eyes had scarcely strayed, never being able to keep away from Mydei for too long. His gaze had always been so weighty that it was a challenge in itself to ignore. Was this how Aquila had felt when the man had singlehandedly pulled the Titan from the sky?

Mydei exhaled slowly, swirling the pomegranate juice in his chalice, feigning idle disinterest. By now, the celebration had all but forgotten him as he faded into the background, most eyes focused on their guests of honour from another world.

He knew, however, that having Phainon's full and undivided attention on him only required something as simple as a mere snap of his fingers.

He took a slow sip from his chalice, then leaned back in his seat, legs spreading with calculated ease. Tilting the cup forward just slightly, he let the crimson liquid spill, trickling down the center of his bare chest in a deliberate, glistening stream.

He glanced up. Sure enough, Phainon was staring.

A slow smirk curled at the corners of Mydei’s lips. With a single finger, he traced the path the liquid had carved down his skin, then brought it to his mouth, tongue flicking out to taste the lingering sweetness.

Phainon was still staring. His gaze was fixated on Mydei's chest, dripping with juice, before darting upwards to meet Mydei's eyes. His eyes were blown wide, something in his intense blue gaze so oppressive Mydei swore he would've shuddered were he a lesser man.

He wasn't, so instead, he met Phainon's gaze head-on, and grinned.

“How clumsy of me,” Mydei muttered under his breath, rising from his chair. He spun on his heel in preparation to leave, murmuring to himself about getting a change of clothes and retiring for the night.

Across the large room where the grand banquet was held, a chair scraped violently against the floor, the screech cutting through the air. Footsteps followed in quick succession.

Mydei wasn’t surprised when a hand abruptly seized his wrist and yanked him out of sight. He was pushed back against a wall just as two strong hands slammed beside his head, caging him in.

“Mydei,” Phainon growled, “Care to explain what in Kephale’s name that was?”

“I spilled my drink,” Mydei said coolly. “It was an accident.”

Phainon let out an incredulous laugh. “An accident?” he echoed. “You expect me to believe that was accidental?”

His eyes lowered to ogle Mydei's ruined chest before narrowing, “I’m not a fool, Mydei," Phainon rasped, "Or do you still think I’m just overthinking everything?”

“I do,” Mydei replied, crossing his arms, “Overreacting too, might I add.”

“Overreacting?”

“My chest feels sticky and uncomfortable,” Mydei went on, tone light, almost bored. “And you should really return to the banquet. The Trailblazers must be wondering where their honoured companion vanished to.” He tilted his head, eyes glinting. “How rude of you to storm out without so much as a word, Deliverer. I imagine everyone was watching.”

“Mydei,” Phainon said through gritted teeth, almost in warning, but all Mydei did was place a hand on his chest, pushing him aside to free himself.

“Now if you'll excuse me,” was all Mydei said as he made his way back to his quarters, leaving Phainon behind.

Phase two of the plan was where the real challenge would come in, but Mydei was enjoying the process too much to care. Pushing Phainon's buttons was becoming one of his favourite pastimes.

It was, in a way, Mydei’s unofficial duty to test Phainon’s limits. Someone had to regularly keep the Deliverer on his toes.

“You seem to be in an awfully good mood lately, Mydeimos,” Aglaea had remarked once, lifting a perfectly arched brow.

“I have,” Mydei affirmed. He was going to royally piss Phainon off and he was looking forward to it.

As if reading his mind, Aglaea let out a sigh. “Just leave the people and the city out of it,” she said almost wearily, “Amphoreus has only just recovered from the last disaster.”

Mydei couldn't promise that. The next step of his plan, after all, involved a third party.

“I'm being serious, Mydeimos,” Aglaea said sternly, arms folded over her chest, “I do not care about your scuffles with Phainon or your little lover's spats, but I will not tolerate anymore reports of public property being destroyed. Am I clear?”

So they broke some stuff at least once or twice and frightened some civilians. Aglaea wasn't seeing the larger picture. Okhema's structures simply weren't sturdy enough. 

It wasn’t their fault that Phainon’s skull was so thick the chair had splintered when Mydei smashed it over his head, and the same went for the tables when they were sent flying across the room. Nor could they be blamed for how often their fights spilled out of the sparring arena and into public spaces.

Alright. Maybe the latter was their fault.

“We won't destroy anything this time,” Mydei vowed, though he wasn't completely confident in his own claim either. Aglaea likely shared the sentiment because she exhaled another long-suffering sigh before departing gracefully.

Unbeknownst to her, Mydei didn't intend to incite a fight.

To the rest of Okhema, clashes between Phainon and Mydei were a common occurrence. It was just another day for them. For Phainon, sparring was a routine activity, a way to simultaneously blow off steam and keep each other on edge, a familiar and exhilarating rhythm they'd long fallen into as they traded blows. 

A spar was too predictable. Mydei needed to catch Phainon off-guard.

The Deliverer was off running an errand, but had promised to find Mydei as soon as he was done. Mydei had no doubt he would. Lately, Phainon had been wound tighter than usual, the strain of recent events plain on him. They haven't even had sex since. 

While he was gone, Mydei approached a group of men training in a sparring ground. 

The sound of clashing swords and grunts came to an abrupt halt the moment they noticed him. One of them, wide-eyed and breathless, stammered, “L-Lord Mydei! Are you here to watch us train?”

Mydei nodded. “Proceed,” he instructed, “I am only here to observe.”

The men gulped, but swallowed their nerves and obeyed, resuming their drills. Mydei watched in silence. He never handed out harsh criticism when it was unwarranted, but his presence alone was apparently enough to make even seasoned warriors second-guess their footwork.

After several minutes, a sharp clang rang out as a sword was disarmed, clattering against the ground. A round of applause resounded through the sparring grounds as the current sparring match was declared over.

Mydei’s eyes shifted to the victor. A lean, well-toned man with light hair and pale eyes, his sweaty chest rising and falling with exertion.

“You fought well,” Mydei said. The man froze, eyes widening before a flush crept up his neck, visibly flustered by the sudden praise.

“T-Thank you, Your Highness!” he said quickly, trying to compose himself. “It’s an honour.”

Mydei tilted his head, appraising him closely until the man began to fidget. “Are you Kremnoan?”

“Half-Kremnoan,” the man replied, hastily placing a hand over his chest in a respectful salute. “My mother’s from Kremnos. My name is Ermis.”

“Ermis,” Mydei repeated, letting the name roll off his tongue as if weighing it. He stepped forward, eyes still fixed on the man. Ermis was, unsurprisingly, shorter than him. The only person Mydei had ever met who did dwarf him in height was Phainon, who was only taller by a few inches.

“Spar with me,” Mydei said.

Ermis visibly faltered. “I couldn’t possibly—”

“You’d pass up the chance to face me?” Mydei asked, one brow slightly raised.

Ermis blanched, then shook his head rapidly. “Not at all, my lord!” He scrambled to retrieve his sword, gripping it tightly to steady his hands. “I would be deeply honoured. Let us begin!”

Mydei hardly sparred with anyone but Phainon, so reining in his strength to avoid outright killing the man was harder work than the match itself. Ermis was a decent fighter but lacked the experience to fully hone his skill. Mydei found himself subconsciously comparing him to Phainon, from his choice of weapon to the similar hue of his eyes.

After knocking the sword from Ermis’s hands, Mydei straightened. “Your swings are strong, but your guard’s full of holes,” he said.

Ermis panted and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Yes, Lord Mydei.”

“I’ll show you,” Mydei said, which made Ermis snap to attention in surprise. “Come here.”

Then Mydei stepped into Ermis’ personal space, placing his hands over the ones clenched around the sword’s hilt. Ermis let out a tiny squeak unbecoming of a soldier.

This close, Mydei could feel Ermis’ body heat and caught the faint scent of embarrassment clinging to him. Ermis was an alpha, still young and far from adept at concealing his scent like Phainon was able to. Mydei usually couldn’t stand most alphas for that very reason, but in this case, it only played into his plans.

The Deliverer was still so unsubtle when it came to staring from afar. Mydei made a mental note to mock him for it sometime.

“Widen your stance,” Mydei practically said into Ermis’ ear, watching his skin redden remarkably fast. Ermis did as told, and Mydei made a low hum of satisfaction, “Good.”

Everyone in the sparring grounds was watching, either jaws half-open or whispering amongst each other. Mydei paid them no mind and leaned closer towards Ermis. “Now, follow my lead,” he practically drawled.

“Lord Mydei, this—” Ermis began, flustered and red all over, until he looked up and his face paled like a deer caught in headlights. He would've dropped his sword if it weren't for Mydei steadying his hands.

“L-L-Lord Phainon!”

Phainon smiled. It did not reach his eyes. “Hello,” he greeted, his gaze sweeping across the silent sparring grounds before finally stopping on Mydei and Ermis, before his expression seemed to ice over. “What's going on here?”

“Sparring. Don't you have eyes, Deliverer?” Mydei responded.

Phainon’s eyes flickered towards where Mydei's hands covered Ermis’, “Sparring,” he repeated slowly, “Are you sure that's what this is?”

“Quite,” Mydei remarked. Pretending to be oblivious, he added, “Something wrong?”

“Mydeimos,” Phainon said. Something in his tone made everyone else present freeze, but Mydei stood unfazed. “Don't test me.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

For a beat, everyone was still. Ermis, especially, seemed to have stopped breathing. On the other hand, Mydei waited, wondering with fascination if this would be Phainon’s breaking point.

Phainon’s jaw clenched. “It's getting late,” he finally said, settling on another smile that was obviously forced. “We should let these men go home and rest up. The sooner, the better.”

Mydei made a show of pondering it. “Fine,” he relented, parting from Ermis. He met the man's eyes and gave him a smile, and deliberately said in a low whisper, “Thank you for your time, Ermis.”

Ermis blushed, “O-Of course.”

The heat of Phainon’s stare could have scorched a hole clean through the back of Mydei’s head. Unruffled, Mydei simply turned away and set off at his own pace, leaving Phainon to follow in his wake.

The walk back home was silent. When the door finally shut with a click, Phainon wordlessly reached for Mydei’s hips, spinning him around and pinning him against the nearest solid surface to kiss him.

Mydei reciprocated the kiss, taking the chance to inhale Phainon's scent.

Ermis had momentarily reminded him of Phainon, but nothing and nobody could compare to the original. Everything about Phainon was big. His hands, his thighs, his shoulders, his cock. His knot.

Mydei missed taking Phainon’s knot. But this was all so much fun and he needed to exercise patience. How did the saying go again? Patience is a virtue? Most Kremnoans were brash and thus lacked such a quality, but Mydei had always sought to be different.

They shared another kiss, but Mydei’s palm pressed firmly to Phainon’s chest before the man could slip his tongue past his lips.

Mydei shook his head. “Not tonight,” he murmured, resting an index finger lightly against Phainon’s mouth. Phainon’s scowl was immediate as he seized Mydei’s hand in a rough grip.

This time, there was no dumbfounded pause, only a low, clipped demand. “What excuse are you making up now?”

“’m tired.”

“Tired,” Phainon echoed, his voice low and dangerous. “From what?”

“The spar,” Mydei said, slipping free of his grip and stepping out of his space. “It wore me out.”

“The spar with that guard wore you out,” Phainon repeated, his jaw tightening. “Mydei, we once fought each other for ten days straight.”

“And?”

“Don’t fuck with me.” His voice sharpened, anger threading through but never quite overtaking the quiet, deliberate control. Phainon was still trying to keep his cool, grasping onto the last straws of his patience. “You’ve been acting strange. You keep goading me, then pulling away at the last second. Don't even get me started on the way you were all over that other alpha earlier. What in Kephale was that?”

“I wasn’t all over him,” Mydei huffed, folding his arms. “Is it really that strange if I don’t feel like having sex, Deliverer?” That was a blatant lie, but he had to keep the ruse going. “What, are you going to coerce me?”

Mydei had said that only to bait him. Even so, Phainon exhaled hard, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he ground out, agitated, “Your behaviour’s been off. Don’t bother denying it.”

“Off?”

“Like you’ve been doing this on purpose,” Phainon's teeth clicked together, blue eyes narrowing into a glare. “You’ve been acting like such a goddamn brat.”

Mydei rolled his eyes. He spun on his heel with a careless flourish, letting his hand drift lazily through the air. “Think whatever you like,” he scoffed.

“Mydei,” a loud sigh, “If this is some sort of game, I don't think I'm a fan of it.”

Closing the door to the bathroom behind him, Mydei grinned.

“Lord Mydei, if I may ask,” a vendor at Marmoreal Market, Fotis, said nervously while Mydei perused the selection of fruits on display. “Are you and Lord Phainon perhaps… fighting?”

Mydei glanced at him. “We haven't sparred with each other in a while.”

“No, what I mean is, are you two having a lovers' quarrel?”

Mydei tilted his head, “Is that what it seems like?”

Fotis scratched his nape. “W-Well, Lord Phainon’s been a bit strung-up lately, hasn’t he? Me and my mates were at the tavern the other day— making a bit of noise, you know— and Lord Phainon nearly lost his temper…”

“That’s all?”

Fotis gawked at Mydei like he’d just sprouted horns. “That’s all? That was terrifying!” He gave a visible shudder, “Lord Phainon’s frightening when he’s upset…”

“Maybe you’ve been taking his friendliness for granted,” Mydei said, voice light but edged. “Even the stupidly kind Deliverer has his limits.”

Fotis’ shoulders hunched, his voice shrinking. “You’re right, Lord Mydei…”

After buying three pomegranates, Mydei left, ruminating on Fotis’ words. He knew Fotis wasn't exaggerating. Phainon did seem more irritated than usual, unlike the charitable and infinitely patient man they were all familiar with. Lately, the residents of Okhema had been walking on eggshells around him.

Aglaea was, reasonably, unimpressed. Their sole saving grace was that Mydei had upheld his promise and neither of them had caused any public damage yet, so she graciously left the issue be. For now.

At Marmoreal Palace, Mydei ran into a group of young children he was acquainted with. They often roped him into playing house with them whenever their parents weren't around, citing that they'd be chided for disturbing a Chrysos Heir, but Mydei never minded. He enjoyed humouring them, finding their chatter and antics a pleasant break from the usual formalities.

Some of the girls had picked flowers. They dragged him by his hand and sat him down on a bench, insisting they'd braid the flowers into his hair. Mydei indulged them, staying still as the children worked their magic while patiently answering any of their questions.

“Prince Mydei,” young Lydia, who was sitting next to Mydei and dangling her feet over the edge of the bench, stared up at him with big eyes, “Are you and Lord Phainon fighting?”

It was funny how this was already the second time Mydei had been asked this in a quint. It was a grown man first, now it was a child. Did gossip about their relationship travel this fast through Okhema? “What makes you say that?”

“Lord Phainon hasn't looked happy,” Lydia’s sister, Eleanor, piped up from behind him. She was concentrating on braiding Mydei's blonde hair. “That's what all the grown-ups are saying.”

“So it means that he and Prince Mydei are definitely fighting,” a boy named Theo finished, “Because Lord Phainon’s always smiling when he's around Prince Mydei.”

Right. They hadn't been seen together as often as they normally were. Mydei had not been kidding when he said Phainon was clingy, though that wasn't to say Mydei wasn't equally as attached, but he was just better at being discreet about it. The Deliverer needed to work on that.

It must've been odd because they were always glued to each other's hip, according to every resident in Okhema. This even included the children, apparently.

“Lord Phainon's scary when he's not smiling!” another kid named Selene exclaimed, furrowing her brows in an attempt to mimic Phainon’s expression. Mydei huffed out a breath of laughter. “He looks just like this!”

“He's just being an idiot,” Mydei assured the children, “You don't have to worry about him. He'll be back to normal soon enough.”

The children hummed in unison, then went back to braiding his hair and chattering about other things.

Once the children's parents had returned and they'd waved Mydei goodbye, Mydei set off towards the Court of Seasons, careful with each step to not jostle the children's handiwork. He needed to have a word with Phainon soon, considering he'd been scaring the adults and worrying the children of their dear beloved city.

Clearly, Phainon could not handle celibacy. Mydei was endlessly amused. He’d also admit he was getting horny, because Mydei wasn’t about to be the kettle to Phainon’s pot. Neither of them were suited for a life of abstinence.

Mydei quickly spotted a familiar face at the palace. Ermis perked up at the sight of him, greeting politely, “Lord Mydei, hello.”

Just the man he wanted to see. Mydei inclined his head, offering a small smile, “Hello,” he said, “Are you on your way to the baths?”

“Oh, yes,” Ermis replied, “We've just finished training. Will you be joining us?”

Mydei nodded. As he walked by Ermis’ side, he could feel Ermis staring at him. He seemed almost dazed. Raising a brow, Mydei asked, “Is there something on my face?”

Ermis’ face flushed red, somehow not expecting he'd be called out. “Well, Lord Mydei,” he said, coughing into his fist, “You've got flowers in your hair.”

Mydei absentmindedly touched his braid, “I was entertaining the city's children. Is there a problem?”

The flush on his face rapidly expanding, Ermis waved his hands around nervously, “N-No, you look beauti—”

“Mydei,” a third voice said, and Ermis immediately went stock-still as if he were a stone statue, “I heard you're going to the baths.”

“Deliverer,” Mydei greeted, with noticeably more disinterest than he'd greeted Ermis. Phainon’s jaw was tense and his nostrils were slightly flared.

Ermis looked between the two of them with fear plain on his face.

“It's almost time for our daily bath,” Phainon said, forcing a smile.

“Is it? It must've slipped my mind.”

Phainon’s smile tightened, the curve of his lips stretched too thin to be genuine to anyone with eyes.

The air between them grew taut, and Mydei was slightly taken aback by the faint trace of bitterness that bled into it, undoubtedly Phainon’s anger seeping into his scent. As soon as it did, Ermis flinched, instinctively recoiling under the weight of a superior alpha's displeasure.

Finally, Phainon’s composure was coming apart at the seams.

Looking away from Mydei, his heavy gaze shifted towards Ermis. “Hello again,” Phainon said with an icy smile, “I didn't catch your name the last time we met.”

“I-It’s Ermis, Lord Phainon,” Ermis stammered. He couldn't look Phainon in the eyes. “I’m part of Okhema's guard.”

On a different day, Phainon would've been inclined to make small talk. He would've told Ermis that he too had been part of Okhema’s guard before Aglaea had recruited him for the Flame-Chase Journey. But today, all Phainon did was say, “I see.”

“We were just thinking of heading to the baths, Deliverer.”

“Yeah, it’s about that time. I can’t believe you’d forget,” Phainon said with a half-hearted chuckle, his hand settling at the small of Mydei’s back. “We should hurry before the entrance gets too crowded.”

“Oh, sure—” Ermis began.

“But we were having such a pleasant conversation,” Mydei cut in, turning toward him. Ermis flushed again.

The air soured with bitterness. “You can finish it another time,” Phainon said, voice tightening.

“Uh,” Ermis’ face had gone pale, “We could… just go together?”

Phainon’s smile vanished. “Aglaea is very particular about who enters the Chrysos Heirs’ private baths.”

“R–Right. I wouldn’t want to offend Lady Aglaea—”

“Don’t be absurd,” Mydei scoffed. “There’s always the public baths.”

Phainon’s gaze cut to him, sharp enough to draw blood. “You and I both know it’s better to unwind in private.”

Ermis swallowed hard, bobbing his head rapidly. “You’re absolutely right, Lord Phainon! I wouldn’t dare intrude on your—”

“You wouldn’t be intruding, Ermis. They’re called public baths for a reason.”

One glance at Phainon and it was clear he was a breath away from popping a vein. Around them, the small crowd of spectators that had gathered leaned in, whispering behind their hands. Mydei caught one frightened murmur, “Oh dear, are they going to break something again?”

“We can't simply divert from our routine, Mydei. Things have already been prepared for us.”

“Hm,” was all Mydei said, shrugging.

A vein throbbed visibly along Phainon's neck, pulsing with barely checked anger. “Mydeimos—”

“I… I can just leave,” Ermis squeaked timidly.

Mydei turned to him. “You don’t have to listen to him,” he said firmly, then softened his tone. “Ermis, after a whole day of training, you’ve earned some time to relax in the baths.” His voice dipped into a deliberate purr. “I can see your dedication as a fighter. Keep training hard, and one day, you may be worthy of guarding my back.”

The moment those words left Mydei's lips, he'd known he'd taken it too far.

The air around them seemed to crackle, a sudden bloom of heat swelling as the surrounding temperature spiked. Bitterness laced with raw fury poured into the space in suffocating waves, so thick that multiple onlookers staggered back, hands flying to cover their noses. Ermis, caught closest, coughed and choked on the stifling scent.

Mydei's heart thudded in his chest. When he turned to look at Phainon, Phainon's eyes were a burning molten gold.

Phainon was livid.

If Mydei had been a weaker man, a lesser omega, his knees would have given out, dropping him into a pathetic heap on the floor. As it was, it took every shred of willpower to lock his legs and meet Phainon’s incensed gaze without flinching.

“Your impulse control is pitiable, Deliverer.”

The words only fed the flame and stoked it higher. For a heartbeat, it felt like the entire world had stilled. Mydei’s breath hitched, and a ludicrous thought crept in that Phainon might actually lose control and go ballistic right then and there.

Aglaea’s warning about no property damage rang in his ears, though that was probably the least of their worries at this point. Phainon wouldn't strike Ermis down with his divine vessel's power, would he?

Phainon exhaled, slow and sharp. “You’re on extremely thin ice.”

He pivoted toward Ermis with predatory precision, who was trembling like a leaf. The last vestige of Phainon’s false smile was long gone.

“Get out of my sight,” Phainon seethed, golden eyes ablaze with an otherworldly, furious glow. “Don’t make me say it again.”

Ermis scurried off, moving with the desperate speed of someone who knew his own life could depend on it. Although the order wasn't directed at the crowd, the onlookers hurriedly scattered all the same, unwilling to be anywhere near the coming storm.

“Mydeimos,” Phainon’s voice was a low growl, each syllable vibrating up Mydei's spine, “Explain yourself now while I'm still giving you the chance.”

The heat was sweltering. It was going right to Mydei's crotch and his head already felt heady with lust. That was no good. He couldn't give in just yet. “All you're doing is making a fool out of yourself,” he jeered, “How embarrassing. Getting all worked up over a few words, honourable Deliverer?”

Phainon lunged to grab Mydei’s face, aiming to clamp his hand over his mouth. It was courtesy of Mydei's reflexes that he'd managed to side-step the attack in time.

“You keep running that mouth of yours,” Phainon snarled. “How eager are you to be taught a lesson?”

Mydei’s grin was all teeth. “Tired of me running my mouth?” He taunted, voice dripping with challenge, “Then you'll just have to stuff your cock into my mouth to shut me up yourself. If you can catch me, that is.”

He caught the flash of Phainon's widened eyes and the predatory look in them before he turned and broke into the fastest sprint his body could muster. He raced past bewildered civilians, weaving through the corridor before bursting out of the towering gates of Marmoreal Palace.

It took mere seconds for the sound of pounding footsteps to close in. Phainon was already hot on his heels, and the adrenaline in Mydei’s blood seemed to sing, pumping with the promise of consequences once he was caught.

Heart pounding wildly, Mydei vaulted down the marble steps three at a time, cutting through the city's winding streets that stretched ahead.

He risked a glance over his shoulder, wind whipping through his hair. A few flowers slipped free from his braid, spiralling away on the breeze as he shot a taunting grin back. “Too slow, Deliverer!”

Phainon scowled, and sped up.

Before Mydei knew it, their cat-and-mouse chase had extended halfway across the city. He veered hard into the bustling lanes of Marmoreal Market, accidentally sending a fruit stand tumbling in its wake.

The shouts of vendors and rolling produce masked his footsteps for a brief moment. So much for avoiding property damage. Aglaea was not going to be pleased.

Mydei ducked left into a narrow alley, pressing his back against the wall and smirking to himself as heavy boots pounded past. Disregarding the pandemonium outside, there was silence except for the sound of his light panting, and he looked towards the sky as he heaved for breath.

Then, a quiet, predatory voice curled around his ear, “Do you really think you can hide from me?”

Mydei’s smirk widened. “Not hiding,” he murmured, slipping past Phainon in a blur. “Just giving you a workout.”

Phainon pivoted with terrifying speed, the chase reigniting through the twisting veins of the city. Mydei led him over high rooftops and plunged down stairwells, even leaping from the towering height of a stone wall, landing in a roll that carried him past the Garden of Life. Civilians scattered, startled from their peaceful day-to-day business.

“Why is Lord Mydei running?”

“Is that Lord Phainon chasing after him?”

“What in Nikador are they doing this time? Someone inform Lady Goldweaver—”

“Ugh! My stall!”

This was the most exhilarating moment of Mydei's life.

The commotion spread like fire in dry grass. By the next street, whispers had already warped into half-shouted theories.

“They’re dueling again, aren't they?”

“I wager it's another one of their competitions! Like that instance at the bathhouse!”

“I heard it’s a lovers’ quarrel—”

“Move! They’re coming this way!”

Citizens scrambled to clear the road, parting like water, fear of being trampled etched on their faces. Mydei tore through Okhema, lungs burning, snaking through the gaps between dromases and their startled handlers. His gaze darted left then right, hunting for another escape route.

It was then that a hand shot out of nowhere, iron-hard fingers clamping around his arm. The world lurched.

Mydei was wrenched off balance, slammed to the ground with brutal force. Pain jolted up his side as the breath was knocked from him.

Deliriously, he blinked, his vision swimming only to find Phainon on top of him, chest heaving, every line of his body taut with the thrill of the hunt. He pinned Mydei down as if he were nothing more than a butterfly trapped beneath a hunter’s thumb, a predator poised over the vulnerable stretch of its prey’s throat.

Phainon’s voice was low and triumphant, “Caught you.”

Mydei huffed, his lungs straining for every intake of air.

Warm knuckles grazed Mydei's cheek, before the same hand reached up to pluck a flower that had come loose from Mydei’s braid, “Scheming doesn't suit you, Mydeimos.”

Phainon’s eyes had cooled back to clear blue, but their intensity hadn’t dimmed. The wind had mussed his hair into disarray, leaving him looking like a dangerous, breathless mess. Somehow, Mydei found himself even more turned on than during the chase, something he hadn't thought to be possible. Trust Phainon to make the impossible happen. He’d always had a talent for miracles.

“You,” Phainon's voice was coiled tight, “are in so much trouble, and I am going to make sure you reap exactly what you've sown.”

Mydei managed another grin, "Is that a threat?"

Then in a blink of an eye, the world shifted on its axis again as Phainon hauled Mydei up as if he weighed nothing, slinging him over Phainon's shoulder like he was a sack of grain.

He casually walked through the streets of Okhema with Mydei thrown over one shoulder like a bundle of market produce. Naturally, everyone was watching. Mydei's cheeks tinged a light gold, hissing, “Deliverer—”

“Oh, so now you know shame?” Phainon's voice was derisive and full of mockery, "You won't even remember your own name once I'm done with you."

Mydei thrashed around in his grip, earning a bruising squeeze around his waist, as if in warning.

Phainon spoke slowly, each syllable clipped like he was barely holding back his temper, “Still trying to push your luck?”

Surely he could smell it, Mydei's arousal. He was wet the moment Phainon had roughly shoved him to the ground like a ravenous animal for all of Okhema to see.

The air reeked with a faint tang of smoke. Not enough to feel suffocating, but enough to hint at the fire simmering beneath Phainon’s calm facade. His anger hadn’t cooled. If anything, it burned hotter with each step, and Mydei could tell by that brisk, relentless pace that he was being marched home now to face the full force of it.

The front door slammed shut, and Phainon strode straight for their bedroom. Normally, he would've laid Mydei down like a gentle princess, but as of now he threw Mydei onto the bed with none of the usual care he'd offer, the mattress dipping under the force. When Mydei looked up, Phainon’s cerulean eyes burned with a cold, unyielding fury.

He loomed over him, one broad hand gripping Mydei’s jaw before crushing his mouth in a bruising kiss. There was no gentleness, his teeth caught Mydei’s tongue, his mouth relentless even as Mydei twisted and gasped for breath. “You make me so fucking mad—” he ground out between the clashing of their teeth. “How do you plan to answer for that, Mydeimos?”

Before Mydei could answer, long fingers wrapped around Mydei’s throat, tapping on his pulse point. Phainon didn't squeeze, but it was a close thing.

“I don't think I owe it to you to give you the choice,” Phainon said softly, and Mydei shuddered, “Starting now, you will take what I give. Understood?”

With that, Phainon tore Mydei’s pants off, ripping the fabric with little effort, before tossing the rest of his clothes across the room.

Mydei yelped, “Phainon—”

“Worthy of guarding my back?” Phainon parroted Mydei's words, laughing without humour. “I never knew you to be a man with such low standards. Tell me, is that all it takes to earn your favour?”

Slick gushed from Mydei’s cunt, warm and unbidden. Phainon had wasted no time stripping away his lower garments, leaving him mostly bare while the alpha remained fully dressed. Phainon did not seem to care, even as Mydei could see the noticeably bulging tent in his pants.

Heat flooded Mydei’s cheeks, partly from the oppressive warmth Phainon could summon at will, but mostly from the way he was staring at him, as if he meant to devour him whole.

Phainon’s features contorted again, fury reigniting at the mere thought of what had happened at Marmoreal Palace. “How easy are you, Mydeimos? Does it make no difference who takes you, whether it be me, or some low-ranked Okheman guard?”

Mydei was incapable of responding. The more Phainon spoke, the more stifling his scent grew. All he could do was look up at Phainon with half-lidded eyes, free to let Phainon say or do whatever he'd wanted to him.

Then he parted his legs wider, and Phainon’s gaze locked onto the movement at once.

Phainon barked out a sharp laugh. “I see,” he said, eyes narrowed, “You should be loose, then.”

Without any preamble, he shoved three fingers into Mydei's pussy.

Mydei’s shriek filled the bedroom, not expecting the sudden fullness. Although it hurt, the overwhelming amount of slick that was leaking out of him made up for the pain, replacing the stinging ache with pleasure. He hadn't had sex with Phainon in what felt like eternity so it was no wonder his body was overcompensating slick as though he were in the throes of heat.

He was impossibly tight, biting back whimpers as Phainon’s long, deft fingers worked him open. Even when withdrawing, Phainon showed no gentleness, ignoring the flicker of pain that crossed Mydei’s face as he lifted his soaked fingers, spreading them to watch the slick string and drip between them, his expression unreadable.

“You’re so messy,” he clicked his tongue, voice cool as ice.

Mydei’s chest rose up and down as he panted for breath. His pussy was clenching around emptiness and all he could do was stare up at Phainon pleadingly. He needed more. He needed Phainon to fuck him.

“Phainon,” he whined, hands grasping at air, the alpha just out of reach.

His plea fell on deaf ears. “I've decided what I want to do to you,” Phainon said in a low voice, “I will breed you, stuff you full of my cum until you're round with my child. You won't be able to leave until you're pregnant. You won't walk out of here until I say so.”

Mydei whimpered, heat and dread and lust tangling in his chest.

“Since my opinion matters so little to you,” Phainon’s voice was carefully level, seemingly on edge, “Be grateful I'm even saying all this instead of simply forcing you. Now present, omega.”

The rebellious streak in Mydei encouraged him to defy him, to continue his display of insolence, but at this point, testing Phainon's patience any further just seemed like a terrible idea. Besides, the omega in him compelled him to obey Phainon, to be good so he could please him.

Mydei listened to the latter and rised to his knees, turning around and lowering his back into a deep arch until his ass was in the air and his face was pressed against the mattress.

Phainon let out a quiet, derisive rumble. “So you can follow simple instructions.”

A glob of slick dribbled down Mydei's thigh. He heard Phainon's breath hitch.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were in heat,” Phainon murmured, closing the distance until his hand gripped Mydei’s ass. “You’d preen like this for any alpha’s attention? Like a cheap whore?”

A low moan slipped from Mydei before he could stop it. The way Phainon’s words dragged him down, made him feel cheap and filthy, only stoked that strange, shame-laced hunger curling in his chest.

“Don't move,” Phainon warned, “If you move without my permission, I'll leave you here like this.”

That was the last thing Mydei wanted.

He froze, heartbeat hammering as the sharp click of a belt buckle cut through the air, followed by the shift of weight on the mattress. Fingers clamped into the hollows of his waist, and then something hot and heavy was pressed to his ass, grinding against his slick cunt.

“Spread yourself open,” Phainon ordered, voice like gravel. Mydei complied instantly, dizzy with need.

He couldn’t see it, but he could feel the thick length of Phainon’s cock throbbing against him, and he ached for it inside. Reaching back, he parted his asscheeks, a shiver racing down his spine as the blunt head eased just inside his hole.

Mydei needed it. He needed it more than anything. “Phainon,” he whimpered again, fighting the urge to turn his head around to look at the alpha.

“Be patient,” Phainon said sharply, “It's the least you can do.”

Shame sliced through Mydei's chest. He remained in this position, baring the deepest parts of himself. The longest seconds of Mydei's life ticked by and he was about to beg Phainon again until Phainon drove into him in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt without a hint of warning.

Mydei cried out, the sudden stretch burning just enough to steal his breath. Phainon was so big that it stung a little whenever he put it in, which was why the Deliverer usually took his time and tried to be gentle during foreplay. Mydei never minded, but this time he probably deserved the treatment.

Phainon gave him no chance to adjust. He straightened, hands locking around Mydei’s waist, and began pounding into his pussy at a punishing pace, as though Mydei were nothing more than a toy to be used.

Each thrust was met with a wet, obscene squelch as he pulled back only to slam into Mydei’s slick heat again. Mydei sobbed, fingers knotting in the bedding while his body rocked helplessly under Phainon’s control. He was pushed forward, yanked back, over and over, exactly as Phainon liked it.

It felt so good. He’d missed this. Missed the stretch, the weight, the dizzying bliss of being filled by Phainon’s thick cock with the promise of being plugged up by his cum.

Above him, Phainon’s moans spilled freely as he pistoned into Mydei’s pussy. There was no gentle hand gliding down his spine, no fingers threading through his hair, no soft voice at his ear to coax him through it. Phainon took him however he liked, fucking him like he was nothing more than a hole to use.

Soon, Phainon's knot began to catch on Mydei's rim, causing Mydei to jolt and cry out in surprised desperation. Phainon's cock was already huge, so taking his knot was always something Mydei had to brace himself for.

Phainon obviously didn't care for his comfort. The moment his knot swelled too large to pull out, he drove himself as deep into Mydei as possible, locking them together just as a hot flood of cum spilled into Mydei’s cunt.

Mydei let out a loud sob as the knot stretched him wide. Phainon wouldn't stop cumming, and he was certain it would've overflown if not for the thick knot plugging him up. He was cumming untouched before he could even catch his breath, slick gushing down his trembling, sweat-slick thighs.

In the past, Phainon would've gingerly flipped their positions and gently rested Mydei atop his chest before dropping kisses in his hair and praising him for how good he felt. An exhausted and fucked-out Mydei would bask in the alpha's undivided attention, until he'd carefully pull out of Mydei as soon as his knot deflated.

“You came just from me knotting you?” Phainon asked, sounding almost amused, “You must be desperate to be bred.”

Mydei’s face burned with shame once more. His world was being spun around again as Phainon locked an arm around Mydei's midriff, turning them around until Mydei was seated upright on Phainon's lap, all while Phainon's swelled knot was still inside him.

Pinpricks of pain and pleasure shot up Mydei's spine with every jostle of the knot that had yet to go down. “Phainon…?”

“I've been doing too much work,” Phainon whispered into Mydei's ear, “You came so easily earlier, so you should put in some work too. Equivalent exchange, no?”

Mydei returned a look of disbelief, glancing down at his slightly distended belly, at Phainon's inflated knot locking them together. “But—”

Phainon's nails dug into Mydei's thigh painfully. “Do your best,” he said in a tone that was saccharine sweet, paired with a sadistic smile.

There was no escaping.

On shaky legs, Mydei tried to lift himself off Phainon’s cock, only to gasp as the knot clung stubbornly to his cunt. All he could manage was a shallow bounce, rocking back and forth to please the alpha, each movement wringing a moan from him as every inch dragged sparks through his overstimulated body.

Phainon hooked his chin over Mydei's shoulder, his hair tickling the side of Mydei's neck. “Keep going,” he said, sounding unaffected, whenever Mydei would slow down to catch his breath or to pause to sob at the overwhelming sensation.

“Play with your chest,” Phainon ordered, his voice flat, as if he were bored by the sight and feel of him. Self-esteem taking a blow, Mydei sniffled, hands rising to pinch and tug at his own nipples, a weak moan slipping out.

Phainon’s touch had always been better. Sometimes he’d even take Mydei’s tits into his mouth, suckling them until Mydei felt like he could cum from that alone, but now, he was left to fumble for scraps of that sensation on his own.

He knew Mydei's chest was his sensitive spot, because as soon as Mydei began playing with his own tits, he squirmed around in pleasure, pussy clenching subconsciously around Phainon's cock until Phainon groaned into his ear.

Then the unthinkable happened. Phainon’s hand came down hard on Mydei’s pussy with a loud, stinging smack. The impact was sharp enough that an obscene wet squelch followed, and Mydei let out a high, startled cry.

“Ah!” Mydei shrieked, loud enough the neighbours probably would've heard. He felt delirious from not just the pain, but the humiliation. The beginning of tears pricked his eyes, “Phainon—”

Phainon spanked his pussy again. Mydei let out another shrill, high-pitched noise, his entire body tensing up as he prepared himself for another strike.

“Mydeimos, the crown prince of Castrum Kremnos, the successor of Nikador’s coreflame,” Phainon mused lowly, “Who would've thought he'd be a slut for pain?”

Another sharp smack landed, and fresh tears spilled down Mydei’s cheeks. He flinched when Phainon leaned in, tongue tracing up to lap them away.

“I'm not blind, Mydei. It's very clear to me what your desires are,” Phainon said, his tone low but razor-edged, “You want to be thrown around, used, and treated like the dirt beneath my boot. It's why you orchestrated this entire charade, didn't you?”

His fingers traced along Mydei’s chin, cupping his face with the illusion of tenderness, only for it to vanish in an instant as Phainon yanked his face forward harshly. “As I've said, scheming doesn't suit you,” he continued, “Your mouth should've been as honest as your pussy.”

The last spank to his sensitive, red cunt was what did it. With an arch of his back, Mydei came with a strangled whimper, squirting all over Phainon's pants and their wrinkled bedding.

His climax tore through him, nearly a full minute of shuddering bliss as slick drenched the sheets beneath them. His cunt clamped down around Phainon’s cock in greedy pulses, drawing a low, unguarded moan from the alpha. Phainon’s hips kept jerking upwards until another deluge of cum spilled deep inside him.

Mydei’s stamina was formidable, but even he was fraying. Overstimulated from Phainon’s cock, every nerve still twitching from back-to-back orgasms, yet there was no room for complaint or reprieve. Tonight, his pleasure was a privilege, granted only when Phainon saw fit. He only deserved to get off when Phainon did and could only cum when Phainon allowed him to.

Without warning, Phainon flipped him over, mounting him and shoving his cock back into him in a single fluid motion. Mydei let out a faint moan, too wrung out to resist, his body pliant in Phainon’s hands. His limbs were rearranged until he was back on all fours, and then Phainon drove into him with renewed vigour.

His cunt ached, swollen and dripping, already heavy with two loads of Phainon’s seed, yet it still begged for more. He needed to take Phainon's knot again. He needed to be bred. The thought of carrying Phainon’s children and them inheriting their father’s striking blue eyes made his walls flutter around the cock spearing him.

A fist tangled in his hair, wrenching his head back until his spine arched. “Focus,” Phainon growled through clenched teeth, “Tighten up.”

Mydei let out a broken groan, obediently clenching around him.

The fist in his hair tightened, and the sting in his scalp felt unexpectedly good. Phainon leaned forward until his lips were ghosting Mydei's exposed nape, his hot breath fanning against Mydei's searing skin. Phainon's teeth grazed over his scent glands, almost as if about to bite down, but then pulled away like he thought better of it.

“Was it fun?” Phainon’s voice cut through the wet, relentless slap of skin on skin. “Did you enjoy teasing me? Making a fool of me? Watching me worry and upsetting me to the point of anger? Was it worth riling me up in the end?”

The long, guttural moan Mydei muffled into the sheets was more than enough of an answer. Phainon exhaled a soft sigh that sounded like something between disbelief and exasperation.

“Well, you got what you wanted,” Phainon huffed, releasing his firm grip on Mydei's hair. “You better make it up to me. Make sure my seed takes, okay?”

For a fleeting moment, Mydei had foolishly thought that was the end of it, that he'd finally be given the chance to take a breather. In his defence, the cock railing his pussy made it hard to even form a coherent thought. But then Phainon's arm looped around his throat, dragging his head beneath his bicep and squeezing, and Mydei was no longer capable of thought at all.

The air in his lungs vanished. Mydei’s fingers scrabbled uselessly at the unyielding muscle, the combination of panic and heat burning within his chest cavity. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, and it didn't help that Phainon never slowed down, hips still driving mercilessly into him.

Drool slipped down Mydei's chin, and his gaze darted upward, meeting Phainon’s. Wide, glassy eyes met with cool amusement, and whatever Phainon saw there pulled a low, mocking snicker from him. He relished the vulnerable sight of keeping Mydei trapped in a headlock as he fucked him, gasping and choking on his moans helplessly.

Mydei felt like he was going to run out of air. The edges of his vision swam, blurring into shadow, and a dizzy thought struck him. What if he passed out? Would Phainon keep going? Would he rut into him without pause, chasing his goal to breed Mydei, to flood him with so much cum that even unconscious, Mydei would still be claimed?

Mydei would let him. His pussy would probably continue to dribble slick like a faucet and Phainon would take that as a clear sign to keep going.

He barely noticed the hot squirt running down his inner thighs. At least, not until he heard Phainon’s amused voice. Laughter rumbled in his chest, pressed firmly against Mydei’s sweat-slick back. “You really are a slut for pain,” Phainon said, almost in awe. “Cumming from being choked? That’s a first.”

Just as Mydei felt his lungs were on the brink of bursting, Phainon let go. Immediately he heaved deep lungfuls of air, coughing violently to make up for the loss of oxygen as he rubbed his sore, abused throat. Then he collapsed against the bedsheets like he'd lost all feeling of his bones.

Mydei was almost certain he’d blacked out. For a few minutes, at the very least, because when awareness returned, he was flat on his back with Phainon above him, lifting his tattooed legs over broad shoulders.

At some point, Phainon had stripped off his shirt. Mydei hadn’t even noticed. Sweat gleamed along the ridges of Phainon's toned abs, each drop sliding down the hard planes of muscle as if to entice him. All that was left on Phainon's upper body was his choker, snug around the sun tattoo along the side of his neck. Mydei wanted to gnaw on it and tear it off with his teeth, to mark that spot as his own.

Phainon fucked into him again, and Mydei’s eyes rolled to the back of his skull. His stamina was still going strong because his pace was no less punishing, even though Mydei's cunt was already frothing with a mixture of their cum and his slick.

A shadow loomed over Mydei's limp body. Phainon’s eyes were gazing down on him, roaming over his abused body, his swollen cunt and his bruised throat. He looked contended. Pleased with himself.

If Mydei had a taste for pain, then Phainon had an appetite for causing it.

A thumb brushed over Mydei’s swollen, bitten lip, smearing away the drool trailing down his chin. Another hand followed, wiping the tear-stains from his cheeks with deceptive care.

For a moment, he could almost be convinced that Phainon’s anger had burned itself out and fizzled into steam. The illusion shattered the instant Phainon’s hands seized his legs, folding him in half and shoving his knees to his ears. The brief tenderness was immediately gone.

The people of Okhema had it all wrong. The Deliverer, Phainon of Aedes Elysiae, was not the benevolent and kind individual they'd all be deluded into thinking. Mydei stared up at him with something akin to betrayal in his fucked-out, barely lucid state.

“Wha— Hey! Ah—”

Phainon fucked into him like a beast, each thrust pounding the air from his lungs. Mydei’s breathy moans climbed higher, breaking into sharp, needy whines. He had cum several times already, but was still as desperate to cum as the first. Through teary eyes, he cried out loudly, unable to contain himself from shaking with pleasure.

A snort on Phainon's end. “Proud prince of the kingdom of Strife? More like some needy, desperate whore.”

His pace quickened, the heavy slap of his balls slapping against Mydei's sopping pussy echoing throughout the room. Mydei shrieked, eyes darting down to watch the slick stretch and slide of Phainon’s cock, gaze locking desperately on his own red, throbbing clit, aching to be touched.

A rough hand seized his jaw, dragging his face up until he was staring into Phainon’s hard, piercing eyes. The knowing glint there told Mydei his thoughts had been laid bare. “You either cum on my cock,” Phainon said, “Or not at all.”

Mydei let out a miserable sob, throwing his head back.

A hand massaged his lower abdomen, already bloated with cum. “You'll be with child by the end of the night, won't you?” Phainon asked breathlessly, “How many children do you want, Mydeimos?”

A particular hard thrust nearly drove Mydei over the edge, ripping a high-pitched noise from his throat. “As many as you want,” he answered hoarsely, eyes unfocused and dazed, “As many as you want, ah—”

“Really? I want a big family,” Phainon hummed, “We’ll just have to get to work then.”

He let out another thoughtful hum, unbothered by the pliant body writhing and gasping underneath him. “But before that,” he said slowly, “I think you owe me something.”

Mydei stared up at him dumbly, not quite understanding.

“Don’t think I’ve forgiven you for hurting my feelings, Mydei,” Phainon tutted, voice laced with mock reproach. “Beg me for forgiveness, and maybe I’ll knot you again.”

Mydei’s lashes fluttered. “Phainon—”

He was cut off by a single word. “Sincerely,” Phainon added sharply.

Normally, Mydei was too proud to beg like this, but as another brutal thrust drove the breath from him and his pussy burned and throbbed with need, he was clearly at a lack of choices. All he wanted was to cum on Phainon's cock. To get knocked up by Phainon’s knot. To have Phainon's babies. Anything after that would be enough.

Begging should have been simple, but Phainon just wasn’t giving him the chance, pounding into him like it was Mydei’s fault for not putting in enough effort.

“Phainon, please—” he gasped, voice breaking. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, just please—”

“Sorry for being such a brat?” Phainon pressed.

“Yes! I’m sorry, so please, please knot me, breed me, I need it, please—”

Phainon rocked forward, shoving the swell of his knot deep into Mydei's pussy. A rush of cum flooded his insides. As soon as the knot popped and locked them together, Mydei came with a broken cry of Phainon's name, a jet of clear fluid squirting out of his pussy.

His legs twitched and jerked, shaking in Phainon’s steady grip. When Phainon slowly lowered them, they were parted too far apart to close properly.

His moans were swallowed by Phainon's lips on his. It was less of a kiss and more of a claiming. Phainon's tongue delved deep, mapping every corner and prying every inch of Mydei's mouth while Mydei yielded to him entirely. When they finally separated, there was still a thin string of saliva connecting their lips.

“Satisfied?” He heard Phainon ask, but Mydei's head was nothing but haze and static, fucked too far past words to respond.

Mydei was very much satisfied.

He woke hours later, still plugged full by Phainon’s knot, his insides heavy with cum. The exhaustion in his bones reminded him of those endless days battling titankin, yet even that paled beside the weariness now sinking into him.

And still, beneath the ache, there was a deep, sated contentment. That made things all worth it.

When Phainon saw that he'd woken up, he'd asked how he was feeling.

“Ten out of ten. No regrets.” Mydei said honestly. Stelle had taught him that term, and the sentence perfectly encompassed how he currently felt.

His voice was hoarse and raspy. Huh. Must've been because of all his moaning and screaming, with the added bonus of Phainon choking him in a headlock. Well, that was fine. There was probably some medication at the Twilight Courtyard that could help him with that. He could just consult Hyacine.

Phainon let out a long, heavy sigh.

“You're insufferable, you know that?” Phainon said, voice laden with fond irritation. He adjusted Mydei’s position, who had his head cushioned on his chest, wrapping an arm around the omega's waist. It shifted the knot in his swollen pussy a little bit, and Mydei was too tired to hold back the whimper that escaped his lips.

“If you wanted something, you could have just told me directly instead of doing it in such a roundabout way. Like purposely pissing me off the entire week, flirting with other men and almost making me transform in the middle of Marmoreal Palace.”

Mydei shrugged. Sheets rustling, he angled himself to look at Phainon without jostling his sore body too much, cupping Phainon's face with both hands before leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. 

Phainon slumped. “You're such a menace,” he sighed again, running his fingers languidly through Mydei's hair. “Does anything still hurt? I lost control a little earlier.”

Clearly. And a little was an understatement. And yes, every part of Mydei's body hurt, but it was a good kind of hurt. Mydei didn't feel like straining his voice anymore, so he looked Phainon dead in the eye and gave him a thumbs-up.

Phainon didn't really look convinced.

“I'll buy you honeycakes in the morning,” Phainon murmured, before averting his eyes for a brief moment, cheeks flushing a light gold, “And maybe we should schedule a prenatal appointment at the Twilight Courtyard soon.”

Mydei looked down at his slightly swollen abdomen.

He was definitely going to get pregnant. He didn't intend for that to happen, his plan had been mainly to go with the flow instead of following it down to the very last detail, but he didn't mind. There was no more war and no more black tide to fight. They had plenty of peaceful days to come to raise their children with all the love and care in the world.

Their babies were going to be absolutely adorable.

While Mydei was daydreaming about chubby babies with blonde hair and blue eyes, Phainon blabbered on about apologising to the citizens he’d accidentally offended and the lengthy message Aglaea had sent them about paying fines for disturbing the peace.

“—Just don't do this again,” Phainon finally said, brows pulled together in exasperation, “Okay?”

Mydei nodded. Okay.

He was definitely doing this again.