[ Phainon does want him, badly, and isn’t that the problem, isn’t that his Achilles heel?
Thirty three million lifetimes and he feels as if he’s craved Mydei in too many of them, his closeness, his warmth, the low timbre of his laughter, his friendship. Phainon and Mydei had come as a pair for so long that it feels fitting and right to be here at his side, to fall into anything and everything that he could imagine. His devotion is an endless cycle, and even the breaking of their own doesn’t cease it.
His heart is racing in his chest as he hums, all coy and sweet. ]
Of course, my liege.
[ Body moving, Phainon settles between his friend’s legs. His hands slide up, tracing the muscle, the shape, the raw strength. He pushes fabric aside in a gentle exploration, seeking his prize - a handsome, perfect cock, that his fingers touch before his mind can catch up with it. He laughs, a little embarrassed by his desperation. ]
[ The amount of time they've spent together are entire lives in their own right; to say nothing of cycles where they were born or met earlier, and spent hundreds of years together before the Flame Chase ended.
The strongest feeling Mydeimos has of them is that there was never enough time; time to do what they wanted, time to get to know each other. It feels strangely easy to imagine Phainon at his feet, kneeling because he wants to (because he is).
The eagerness with which Phainon's hands descend on him does not go unnoticed, though the only hint is a quirk of Mydei's mouth in a smile before he melts his expression back into a haughty one. ]
Take your time. I'm feeling indulgent tonight.
[ He carves out a little space for these characters to not rush. He does move his hand again to curl it into soft white hair, unable to stop himself from touching, though he doesn't yank or direct Phainon (yet). ]
[ Phainon bleeds into the role, unable to help himself.
The urge to give and give is something he is incapable of ignoring or denying, a part of himself that is incapable. He wants to carry all the burdens of the world, to be the one to ease the hurts of his friends, to take their pain and replace it with pleasure. The deep well of affection is swelling, and he doesn’t know what to do with it.
Offering sex to them seems an easy solution, his heart warm, hot, teetering on the edge of something else. When he finally lets himself take what he wants, fingers stroking between Mydei’s thighs, the soft edge of his sac, up to his cock, to take it in hand.
[ Mydeimos can't help the small shudder of pleasure that ripples through his body at Phainon's fingers stroking over him almost lovingly. How long has it been since they last indulged? Long enough for him to miss it urgently. ]
I give what I'm given from my subject.
[ Saying that makes a hot flush of arousal go up his spine. Thinking of Phainon draped in his red and gold, like a mark of ownership. His jealousy is always an odd thing; he wants Phainon to have all the attention here, as he deserves it, but the urge to leave his own marks over those that remain persists.
He shifts so that his legs cage in Phainon on either side, so that all he can see and smell and feel is Mydeimos, using his oppressive power not to threaten, but to force all distractions away. ]
Then you must find this devotion often, my liege, as you treat us so well.
[ It's impossible to look elsewhere, to let his gaze drift, when the thing that has been on his mind is right in front of him. Phainon had never understood some of the scrolls and books he had devoured when he had been studying, edging on illicit, but he thinks it is settling around him now. He thinks it is impossible not to comprehend such deep, desperate desire.
It all makes sense, now.
His technique is a little more practiced now, and it is as if he really is some bed partner for his dear prince, letting his hand glide over him, his lips trail against those handsome legs. Phainon doesn't want to tease, necessarily, but he does want to enjoy himself, flushed and excited already. ]
[ Mydeimos hums in approval at the hand stroking him, and the lips tracing the markings on his thighs. There is something truly indulgent about seeing Phainon like this, focused entirely on his task and nothing else.
What a good soldier he was - would be. Devoted entirely to the Kremnoan prince. The thought makes him shudder again, hips shifting upwards. ]
Yet it is your devotion I seek most often, and ache without.
[ The words are... a little more honest than he intends but fit the role. ]
[ Phainon's lips are pleased, a touch smug, as his hand teases, a temptation.
He wonders if Mydeimos will urge him on, make demands, order him, as he has done in the past, or if he will be benevolent as a prince, letting his bedmate do as he pleases. He's not sure what he would prefer, but he awaits the discovery with great eagerness. ]
You could call upon me more. I remain most eager to serve you.
[ Would Phainon come if he called every time? It's a heady thought, even if it's a part of the scene. His cock twitches in Phainon's hold, clearly pleased with the idea. ]
[ Mydeimos is good at asking for what he wants, but he might be loath to be so demanding of Phainon, especially given all that has happened. Let him know that he does not need to be so.
Smiling, he leans in, kissing the tip of his cock with all the reverence he can muster. ]
[ Mydeimos chuckles, a fraction of relief in the noise that he tries to keep out of it. It's easy to ignore, anyway, when Phainon kisses the tip of his cock. The contrast of pale lips and the flushed head is always intoxicating to see. ]
As lovely as you are when you beg, I won't make you.
[ He tugs slightly on his hair, not hard enough to be a yank but a subtle nudge to get on with it. He has a rough plan, after all. ]
[ Phainon, despite the pull being weak, moans all the same, a soft, breathless sound. He enjoys the way it feels, the gentle tug, the way that Mydeimos commands him; it makes that fire burn all the stronger inside of him, cheeks warm and smile genuine. ]
Not tonight, hm?
[ No more hesitation, then. Phainon will serve his prince properly, leaning down to take his cock into his mouth, smooth and slow. ]
[ It's a threat and a promise. There's plenty of ideas he has for how he wants Phainon in this scenario, but indulging in his mouth - when its only become more skilled - is definitely one of them. ]
It would be cruel to deny you what you so clearly want.
[ His voice is a little breathier as he says it, watching Phainon's mouth, the way his lips stretch around the girth of him. ]
[ Cruel, Mydeimos says, but Phainon thinks he wouldn't mind it too terribly. He would not be against being denied, being told to ask sweetly, to show his devotion. For Mydei, he would do all that, and more importantly, he would mean it as well.
He groans softly, arms sliding forward, as he leans to take his friend deeper into his mouth.
It's far smoother than the last time they did this, Phainon moving his head to make the push easier, the way his lips stretch more obscene. He knows a little more about it, about what to do, and he refuses to hold back or hesitate. ]
[ His breath hitches a bit at the way Phainon is clearly experienced now, the way he doesn't choke immediately. It's both pleasing and causes a surge of jealousy, tattoos rippling with a familiar red effect before he reins it in. ]
I remember the first time you did this for me.
[ Is he talking about the scene, or when Phainon fell to his knees out in biting cold? He rolls his hips and gives no clarification either way, pushing his cock further into Phainon's mouth. He wants to see if he can take it; he wants to see him choke if he can't. ]
[ Phainon is too busy, focused on taking Mydei deeper and deeper, that he barely notes the flutter of red, thinking it must be desire and nothing else. His mouth is full, and he feels content with it, hands where he can't quite go yet, still learning how to do this with a skill that would please everyone.
Practice makes one proficient, and Phainon never aims short of the best.
Groaning softly, he thinks of the memory. Cold air biting him, the hot flush on his cheeks, Mydei's hands on him, in his hair, guiding him and showing him pleasure... It's a fond memory even now, one that he delights in. ]
[ He can see the way even the ears on Phainon's head relax as he fills his mouth. Phainon was truly made for pleasure, and losing himself in it; Mydeimos takes the moment to watch him, at the way his hands grasp around the base of his cock.
The groan makes him shiver, and he grins. ]
You like thinking of that? The way I took you despite the pain in your throat?
[ He's teasing, remembering how hoarse Phainon had sounded after Mydei had come. He tightens the hold he has on Phainon's hair, tugging him forward a little. ]
[ It is true that he had liked it, had enjoyed it, for the way that it had made him ache but from the knowledge that he had pleased Mydeimos too, that he had brought him pleasure. That had done something to him, ignited something, and even if he had been lax in his sexual encounters after that, he had kept it in his mind as a wonderful and inspiring memory.
Ears flicking, chasing the sound of Mydei's voice, Phainon breathes out gently through his nose, trying to use what he had learned properly.
When he looks up, his eyes are a little lidded, already hazy with desire, but he goes with the pull all the same, sinking down, further, a little more, taking Mydeimos and enjoying the feeling of going further and further, mouth stretched and heat buzzing through him. ]
[ He rumbles out an mmm for the feeling of Phainon's mouth around him, at the way he looks up at him. Adoring, hungry; if Mydeimos lets himself fall into it enough, he can believe it's all for him alone.
He doesn't push any further for now, curious to see if Phainon will try to take him all the way - he had been researching deepthroating, after all. Instead he lets his hand relax to comb through his hair, flicking a thumb against one twitching ear. ]
[ Yes, Phainon thinks. This is what he wants, what he’s not going to stop. He can show his devotion, his affection for his dearest friend through such physical means, and Mydeimos can accept it - accept him. Even as he’s forgiven he seeks penance, seeks something to ease the burden of his heart and the hatred he holds for himself.
This time, he does take Mydei deeper. He’s cautious with it, careful despite his enthusiasm and his desperate desire to please, to do well. He rumbles a soft sound, muffled by the cock inside him, and shifts. He doesn’t want to choke and ruin this, but it goes further and further as he pushes himself carefully. ]
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no subject
Thirty three million lifetimes and he feels as if he’s craved Mydei in too many of them, his closeness, his warmth, the low timbre of his laughter, his friendship. Phainon and Mydei had come as a pair for so long that it feels fitting and right to be here at his side, to fall into anything and everything that he could imagine. His devotion is an endless cycle, and even the breaking of their own doesn’t cease it.
His heart is racing in his chest as he hums, all coy and sweet. ]
Of course, my liege.
[ Body moving, Phainon settles between his friend’s legs. His hands slide up, tracing the muscle, the shape, the raw strength. He pushes fabric aside in a gentle exploration, seeking his prize - a handsome, perfect cock, that his fingers touch before his mind can catch up with it. He laughs, a little embarrassed by his desperation. ]
no subject
The strongest feeling Mydeimos has of them is that there was never enough time; time to do what they wanted, time to get to know each other. It feels strangely easy to imagine Phainon at his feet, kneeling because he wants to (because he is).
The eagerness with which Phainon's hands descend on him does not go unnoticed, though the only hint is a quirk of Mydei's mouth in a smile before he melts his expression back into a haughty one. ]
Take your time. I'm feeling indulgent tonight.
[ He carves out a little space for these characters to not rush. He does move his hand again to curl it into soft white hair, unable to stop himself from touching, though he doesn't yank or direct Phainon (yet). ]
no subject
[ Phainon bleeds into the role, unable to help himself.
The urge to give and give is something he is incapable of ignoring or denying, a part of himself that is incapable. He wants to carry all the burdens of the world, to be the one to ease the hurts of his friends, to take their pain and replace it with pleasure. The deep well of affection is swelling, and he doesn’t know what to do with it.
Offering sex to them seems an easy solution, his heart warm, hot, teetering on the edge of something else. When he finally lets himself take what he wants, fingers stroking between Mydei’s thighs, the soft edge of his sac, up to his cock, to take it in hand.
He needs this. He can’t stop thinking about it. ]
Your desires are mine, tonight.
no subject
I give what I'm given from my subject.
[ Saying that makes a hot flush of arousal go up his spine. Thinking of Phainon draped in his red and gold, like a mark of ownership. His jealousy is always an odd thing; he wants Phainon to have all the attention here, as he deserves it, but the urge to leave his own marks over those that remain persists.
He shifts so that his legs cage in Phainon on either side, so that all he can see and smell and feel is Mydeimos, using his oppressive power not to threaten, but to force all distractions away. ]
no subject
[ It's impossible to look elsewhere, to let his gaze drift, when the thing that has been on his mind is right in front of him. Phainon had never understood some of the scrolls and books he had devoured when he had been studying, edging on illicit, but he thinks it is settling around him now. He thinks it is impossible not to comprehend such deep, desperate desire.
It all makes sense, now.
His technique is a little more practiced now, and it is as if he really is some bed partner for his dear prince, letting his hand glide over him, his lips trail against those handsome legs. Phainon doesn't want to tease, necessarily, but he does want to enjoy himself, flushed and excited already. ]
no subject
What a good soldier he was - would be. Devoted entirely to the Kremnoan prince. The thought makes him shudder again, hips shifting upwards. ]
Yet it is your devotion I seek most often, and ache without.
[ The words are... a little more honest than he intends but fit the role. ]
no subject
He wonders if Mydeimos will urge him on, make demands, order him, as he has done in the past, or if he will be benevolent as a prince, letting his bedmate do as he pleases. He's not sure what he would prefer, but he awaits the discovery with great eagerness. ]
You could call upon me more. I remain most eager to serve you.
no subject
Would you let this prince be that greedy for you?
[ Would Phainon come if he called every time? It's a heady thought, even if it's a part of the scene. His cock twitches in Phainon's hold, clearly pleased with the idea. ]
no subject
[ Mydeimos is good at asking for what he wants, but he might be loath to be so demanding of Phainon, especially given all that has happened. Let him know that he does not need to be so.
Smiling, he leans in, kissing the tip of his cock with all the reverence he can muster. ]
with the ICON
As lovely as you are when you beg, I won't make you.
[ He tugs slightly on his hair, not hard enough to be a yank but a subtle nudge to get on with it. He has a rough plan, after all. ]
teehee
Not tonight, hm?
[ No more hesitation, then. Phainon will serve his prince properly, leaning down to take his cock into his mouth, smooth and slow. ]
no subject
[ It's a threat and a promise. There's plenty of ideas he has for how he wants Phainon in this scenario, but indulging in his mouth - when its only become more skilled - is definitely one of them. ]
It would be cruel to deny you what you so clearly want.
[ His voice is a little breathier as he says it, watching Phainon's mouth, the way his lips stretch around the girth of him. ]
no subject
He groans softly, arms sliding forward, as he leans to take his friend deeper into his mouth.
It's far smoother than the last time they did this, Phainon moving his head to make the push easier, the way his lips stretch more obscene. He knows a little more about it, about what to do, and he refuses to hold back or hesitate. ]
no subject
I remember the first time you did this for me.
[ Is he talking about the scene, or when Phainon fell to his knees out in biting cold? He rolls his hips and gives no clarification either way, pushing his cock further into Phainon's mouth. He wants to see if he can take it; he wants to see him choke if he can't. ]
no subject
Practice makes one proficient, and Phainon never aims short of the best.
Groaning softly, he thinks of the memory. Cold air biting him, the hot flush on his cheeks, Mydei's hands on him, in his hair, guiding him and showing him pleasure... It's a fond memory even now, one that he delights in. ]
no subject
The groan makes him shiver, and he grins. ]
You like thinking of that? The way I took you despite the pain in your throat?
[ He's teasing, remembering how hoarse Phainon had sounded after Mydei had come. He tightens the hold he has on Phainon's hair, tugging him forward a little. ]
no subject
Ears flicking, chasing the sound of Mydei's voice, Phainon breathes out gently through his nose, trying to use what he had learned properly.
When he looks up, his eyes are a little lidded, already hazy with desire, but he goes with the pull all the same, sinking down, further, a little more, taking Mydeimos and enjoying the feeling of going further and further, mouth stretched and heat buzzing through him. ]
no subject
He doesn't push any further for now, curious to see if Phainon will try to take him all the way - he had been researching deepthroating, after all. Instead he lets his hand relax to comb through his hair, flicking a thumb against one twitching ear. ]
no subject
This time, he does take Mydei deeper. He’s cautious with it, careful despite his enthusiasm and his desperate desire to please, to do well. He rumbles a soft sound, muffled by the cock inside him, and shifts. He doesn’t want to choke and ruin this, but it goes further and further as he pushes himself carefully. ]