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[strifeborne]

Mydeimos

30% Training, 70% Diet

Mydeimos

Mydeimos

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[cyclus]

They can trust me! I am not so foolish that I would do something I really hated.

[ Discomfort is not the same as hate; Phainon knows hate all too well. ]

[strifeborne]

[ He's giving him a lookbut finally relents about it, because Phainon deserves this trust, after everything. ]

I still think you should practice saying 'no' more.

[ The grumpy tone of a man who lost this fight. ]

[cyclus]

[ Phainon sighs, turning to press his face into Mydei's neck.

Unable to help himself - ]

No.

[strifeborne]

Brat.

[ He reaches up to tug on his hair a little but doesn't actually pull him away from his neck. ]

[cyclus]

I am not!

[ He scowls, squeezing his arms tighter. ]

I did what you asked. And I am trying, hard as that might be to believe.

[strifeborne]

I don't find it hard to believe. You've never been one to half-ass a task.

[ He says to Phainon "held the line for 33 million cycles" Khaslana. He's smirking (smiling, really), letting his hand rest on the back of his head. ]

[cyclus]

And I do not intend to start now.

[ He's too comfortable to move, now, something soft and warm in his gut, ears twitching. ]

Would you practice with me?

[strifeborne]

Yes.

[ He agrees as if it's just that easy, hand shifting slightly to rub his thumb over the base of one twitching ear. ]

Though I think if we do, we should have a specific kink in mind.

[cyclus]

[ Phainon hums softly, content to stay here, warm. ]

Mm. Is there something you want to try?

[strifeborne]

Not that I can think of immediately. Roleplaying, perhaps, to get you out of your head.

[cyclus]

Oh?

[ He perks up a little, fingers brushing idly against Mydei's stomach. ]

I would like to try it.

[strifeborne]

Ready to take on a role other than Deliverer?

[ He's only half teasing. ]

[cyclus]

I think so.

[ Careful, he kisses Mydei's neck. Tempting, too tempting. ]

You sound like you have an idea in mind.

[strifeborne]

[ Bro what is with that sneaky little neck kiss. ]

What if you were mine?

[ IT HANGS JUST A MOMENT TOO LONG before he adds: ]

A warrior of the detachment, I mean, instead of Okhema's hero.

[cyclus]

[ Phainon doesn't tense, but he does still - more from curiosity than any tension, leaning forward so he can peer at Mydeimos.

He looks... Curious. ]

Have I come to relay a message? To serve my warrior prince?

[strifeborne]

[ Mydeimos huffs out a little laugh. ]

To serve, I think. Best not to make it too complicated, lest you get hung up on playing politics.

[ Also because it's another line he can put for himself in the role; he'd never take advantage of his people in that way, someone's willingness aside. ]

[cyclus]

I like the idea.

[ His fingers trail along Mydei's body, against his stomach, palm flat as he smiles. ]

Have you been left wanting for too long?

[strifeborne]

[ Mydeimos relaxes into the touch, though he chuckles slightly. ]

Perhaps. My favorite attendant has been busy for quite some time, it seems.

[cyclus]

[ Phainon chuckles softly, smile warming, his hands finding Mydei's. ]

And left you with such longing? For shame. We must repair such terrible circumstances.

[strifeborne]

If he knows what's good, he should.

[ The hands fall to his, and he threads their fingers together, though his tone is serious when he speaks again. ]

Should you want to do this now, you'll have to give me some time to set the scene.

[cyclus]

[ Phainon practically pouts, leaning a touch closer. ]

I can be patient, I suppose. But only so patient!

[strifeborne]

[ Mydeimos laughs affectionately, reaching up to pet an ear again. ]

Be a good boy and meet me in my room in an hour, all right?

[ As his hand falls away, his fingers graze Phainon's cheek. Again he's tempted to leave a kiss there, or to pull him in for a proper one. The hesitance might even be noticeable; ultimately he pulls away though, to head upstairs. ]

[cyclus]

[ The good boy, the pause, the way Phainon, too, leans in, almost too hesitant - his eyes dart over Mydei's face before he swallows.

He wants to kiss him again. He wants it desperately. It had felt like too much, the last time, but now... Now, the idea of not kissing him pains him more than he can say.

Phainon bites his tongue. ]

One hour. I'll wait.

[strifeborne]

[ Mydeimos nods before he makes a tactical retreat up to his room, the urge to lean back in overwhelming. He uses the time to take a quick shower, unbraiding his hair. He keeps the arousal going by thinking of Phainon, the way he touched him; slowly, he forms a more moderately sized crystal throne, placing some pillows on it and at the foot.

He debates over an outfit before he settles on one that can barely be called clothes, forgoing the collar and attached fabric but keeping the armbands and his normal jewelry. Before he knows it his time is almost up, and he gives himself one last glance before making sure the door is unlocked and settling himself on the throne.

When the knock finally comes, he calls out, command in his voice: ] You may enter.

[cyclus]

[ Phainon spends the next hour basically... Pacing.

It's hard to focus, a low burning inside of him, a longing. He wants Mydei, now, and having to wait is a delicious kind of torture. He keeps staring at the clock, waiting for the hours to change, waiting to sink into this - to enjoy the game of it, their new understanding empowering them both. He doesn't necessarily expect Mydei to push his boundaries too far tonight, but who knows.

When the time ticks over, finally, he changes. He wears a looser outfit, something easy to take off, less formal. He looks more like a dressed down guard than the man he is at heart, and when he finally gets into Mydei's room...

His voice disappears.

Mydeimos looks beautiful like this, and he has to force himself to breathe, to offer a proper Kremnoan greeting as he steps into the room, door shutting behind him. ]

My prince. I have come, as requested.