Work Text:
[Part I: The unexpected meeting]
It’s not that Phainon dislikes parties. As a matter of fact, he quite enjoys them. He even prides himself on usually becoming the center of attention once he arrives.
Phainon is a social creature, someone who savors the occasional drink, and never misses a friend’s birthday or an invitation to hang out.
He calls all of his colleagues by their names and remembers their children and their pets. After all, he’s already won the lottery by being born as an alpha. Being thoughtful doesn’t cost him a thing, so he makes an effort to brighten everyone’s day.
So no, Phainon doesn’t dislike parties, nor does he fear being put on the spot, but right now, as he stands in the middle of the crowd, all eyes on him and a hand on his wrist, he doesn’t feel all that confident. Instead, he feels quite scared and small.
“I am going to marry this person.”
It feels like something life-altering is happening. Something that, as unlikely as it is, involves him of all people.
“M-me?”
Phainon isn’t easily frightened, he’s a strong, tall, and handsome alpha. At least that’s what all the omegas say, and who is he to argue with that? He should be prepared for all types of confrontations, he should never find himself backed into a corner… and yet—
“I don’t care what you say. I am breaking my engagement with Hephaestion.”
The man gripping his wrist is strikingly beautiful, with golden eyes and golden hair. And for some unknown reasons to him, this strikingly beautiful man has just announced his intentions to marry Phainon.
“What is the meaning of this, Mydeimos?” a strong female voice interrupts his thoughts. She’s that kind of a woman whose age is a mystery to anyone she ever meets. Phainon would find it far less curious if she were just some random guest, but, of course, his life isn’t that easy and the woman in question is none other than Madam Gorgo.
Nobody important, of course she’s not, just the freaking CEO of Castrum Kremnos.
“Explain yourself,” she commands.
Perfect.
That’s just Phainon’s luck.
Who else would find themselves right in the centre of some crazy drama involving a major business partner? The best Phainon can hope for is that Aglaea won’t murder him once she finds out. Maybe he can leave the country and hide somewhere far away.
“I told you,” Mydeimos replies, eyebrows furrowed. “I am going to marry him instead.”
Okay, so Phainon didn’t misunderstand. They’re really talking about a marriage. Which means there’s only one way for him to resolve this unfortunate misunderstanding.
“Uh, yeah, sorry about that,” Phainon laughs awkwardly, feeling the man’s grip tighten. Mydeimos is squeezing his wrist so hard Phainon’s almost certain he’s lost circulation in it. Oh, but what is one arm gone compared to surviving this confrontation?
“You see, the truth is—”
That he doesn’t know Mydeimos. This is his first time seeing the man. He should nip this misunderstanding in the bud and move forward with his life.
“That I don’t—”
But the thing with Phainon is that he can never just let things happen on their own.
“…that I don’t really…”
He always has to involve himself in matters those have nothing to do with him and act like a saviour. Sometimes that does make him the hero, but more times than not it just brings him trouble.
“That…” he stops, inhales deeply, finally making up his mind. “That me and Mydeimos are in love. There’s no way he can marry someone else.”
The death grip on his wrist loosens and Phainon gives the other a reassuring smile. He hopes he’s at least somewhat convincing though, judging by Madam Gorgo’s sullen expression, he’s not. Her gaze drifts to their awkwardly “joined” hands, then back up to Phainon’s bright face. Her nostrils flare as she inhales too quickly, composing herself before she speaks.
“You and me, Mydeimos, let’s talk,” she says as she turns sharply and strides away. It isn’t a request, it’s a command, and the hold on Phainon’s wrist disappears. Mydeimos hesitates just for a breath, giving Phainon one last look, before he leaves without another word, leaving him alone in the middle of the crowd.
And Phainon?
He uses the opportunity to slip away quietly, needing a moment to collect his thoughts.
*
“Oh my GOD, white boy, I just heard what happened!”
Cipher finds him in under ten minutes; must be a new personal record for her.
“Glad that at least someone is having fun,” he mumbles in response as he slumps against the ornate balustrade. This entire establishment looks like a museum and Phainon feels uncomfortably out of place.
“I have no idea how you got into this mess, but hoo boy am I intrigued.”
“Please, Cipher, I don’t know either. I’m still recovering from what just happened.”
He’s been trying to piece together the situation from what little information he’s gathered. So far, with the help of his old, trusty phone, he has discovered that his life is positively over.
“Apparently, Mydeimos is the son of Madam Gorgo?”
“Yeah, white boy, you didn’t know?”
Phainon sighs. He did not and, admittedly, that one is on him. The unhinged grin on Cipher’s face widens, a maniacal spark appearing in her eye.
“I can’t believe it! You truly are an idiot!”
“Well, sorry for not being knowledgeable in all things Castrum Kremnos. It’s not like this was my idea to come here, you’re the one who dragged me to this party!”
Cipher snickers, hoisting herself up to sit onto the balustrade next to him. She swings her legs in delight, eyes sparkling with mischief.
“And it was such a good idea! I am having plenty of fun!”
“You’re welcome,” Phainon mutters in response, wilting even further like some sad desert flower. It’s not like this is really her fault, he got into this trouble all by himself.
“So where is your newfound fiancé now?”
“Probably grovelling at his mother’s feet.”
Who knew the guy with a face like an angel and a god-like physique was the heir to Castrum Kremnos? He looked more like a model, or a gigolo, not a man destined to inherit a business empire. If Phainon had known who he was, he’d not have dared to open his mouth.
“You think this is going to affect the company? What about the deal Aglaea’s trying to make with Gorgo?”
Cipher stares at him in disbelief before she bursts into loud, unhinged laughter.
“Oh my GOD, really?” she wheezes, nearly falling off her little perch. “The son of Gorgo just proposed to you and all you care about is Aglaea? My, my,” she pats his head, “you really do think of her as your mommy.”
Phainon frowns. “I do not.”
Although he is extremely grateful. When he first arrived in the city of Okhema, it was Aglaea who gave him a chance. The last thing he wants to be is the reason why this deal falls through.
“I just don’t want to be a menace.”
“Oh boy, you’re so hopeless.”
Cipher shakes her head and for a moment there’s a moment of silence before she hops off the balustrade.
“You know what?” she says, tilting her head as she looks at Phainon. “You truly are a foolish puppy, one that should learn its lesson. The only thing Aglaea really cares for is whether you manage to keep yourself safe.”
Phainon smiles at his colleague’s words. What a baffling thing to say. He’s the one in charge of security, his task is to keep everyone else safe.
“You know—” he starts but Cipher lets out a loud yawn, stretching as she starts walking off.
“Good luck, white boy, you will need it. Seems like your prince charming has arrived!”
Phainon stares after her in confusion, not quite understanding what she means, but then a heavy hand descends on his shoulder and he looks up, meeting two golden eyes.
Mydeimos. The son of Madam Gorgo
The same uncomfortable feeling as before settles heavily in his gut. As if an overwhelming presence has descended upon him and there’s no way for him to escape.
“We need to talk.”
That they do, but for some reason Phainon feels weary of the other. Mydeimos looks incredibly dangerous, yet he also makes his stomach flutter. Is it the other’s stunning face? Is it the way he carries himself?
“Fine.”
Whatever it is, Phainon decides, he’s too weak to resist this beautiful man.
*
Mydeimos leads him to a quiet room, some ridiculously fancy salon that’s out of this world, and for a blissfully short moment Phainon forgets about his impending doom. The chairs look like they belong in the Louvre and the paintings on the walls must cost a fortune. Phainon gawks at the embroidered curtains, each thread in there woven with gold.
“Please sit,” Mydeimos says, sounding surprisingly civil for the change. Phainon obeys though he’s terrified that he’ll somehow damage one of the chairs. Would they make him pay for it? He’ll never make enough to reimburse the damage.
“I’m sorry for… my unsightly behaviour,” Mydeimos says, nodding towards Phainon’s hand. He glances at it, confusion flickering across his face, before he notices the bruise blooming across his skin.
“Oh,” Phainon stares at it in fascination, a mixture of awe and dread filling him. He’s an alpha, a strong one at that, yet Mydeimos left a mark with just a simple grip? How strong exactly is the guy and should he start getting worried?
“I owe you my most sincere apology.”
All logic dictates Mydeimos is an alpha. His immense strength would be an irrefutable proof, but his manners are gentle and his face is pretty…
“Yeah, uh, don’t worry about it.”
The long lashes, plump lips, glowing skin… all such obvious clues. Phainon’s seen plenty of omegas in his life and he can usually spot one at a glance.
“I also owe you an explanation.”
But maybe— a beta? A really beautiful one? That would not be out of the realm of possibility, so he should not count that theory out.
While sometimes regarded as lesser to alphas, betas have carved out their own place in society. They are not bothered by pheromones and heats, nor do they have to worry about ruts. And, to be honest, Phainon hasn’t sensed any strong scents coming from Mydeimos.
So would it really be so far fetched to assume that this man is a beta?
“I have to admit that I panicked.”
“Panicked,” Phainon repeats to himself. What a sentence coming from a man who stands as tall and proud as a Greek statue.
“Yes,” the other runs a hand through his hair, long strands falling away. A sudden coil of desire twists Phainon’s gut and he smothers it immediately, feeling ashamed.
“The situation is complicated, but the gist is that I cannot marry my childhood friend.”
Oh right. That poor bastard. What exactly did he do? Cheat? No, there’s no way anyone in their right mind would cheat on Mydeimos.
“My mother was about to announce the engagement, so I had to act before she did.”
Phainon nods in understanding even though he understands almost nothing. Why would Madam Gorgo make an announcement if her son felt such discomfort over it?
“I’m truly sorry you got caught in the middle, that was not my intention at all, but you were the only unfamiliar face in the crowd, so I thought you’re my safest bet.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Phainon says, smiling awkwardly. “You’re lucky my boyfriend doesn’t mind sharing.”
Mydeimos’s eyes widen at the remark, locking on Phainon like he’s completely mad.
“A boyfriend? Then why did you— ah, nevermind,” the man huffs, shaking his head in disagreement. He hesitates for a bit before those piercing eyes turn back onto Phainon. “Just please tell me you’re not mated, I do not want to cause any trouble for your partner. I didn’t see any marks on you, so I assumed that you weren’t claimed.”
Mydeimos taps his neck to clarify what he means and Phainon tilts his head in confusion.
Claimed? Him? What a ridiculous thing to say.
“No… no, of course I’m not mated. I’m not even seeing anyone right now.”
Because Phainon doesn’t really have a boyfriend. And bites? There’s no way that Mydeimos thinks he’s an—
“Good. I’d hate to implicate a mated omega.”
An omega!
Now, admittedly, there has been once or twice in his life where he’s been mistaken for a beta. But an omega? No, there is no way. Mydeimos must be pulling his leg.
“I’m not an omega, but thanks for the laugh. I guess I deserve that for my boyfriend joke.”
“Oh, you are not?” Mydeimos says, his expression eerily serious for a silly joke. Phainon feels like he’s going crazy. How would anyone mistake him for an omega?
Because he’s a beta, he can’t smell your pheromones
And yet, shouldn’t betas be better educated? Wouldn’t anyone with half a brain look at him and instantly know he’s an alpha?
“My mistake then, I apologize. It’s just that your scent is very sweet.”
His scent?
Now Phainon’s even more baffled. His scent is anything but sweet! Many omegas have called it pleasant, but always “fresh” or citrusy, not sweet. Besides, scent? That complicates everything. There goes his ‘beta theory’ out of the window.
“Well, anyway, it doesn’t matter. If you’re not mated, I have a proposal.”
Okay. So time for a new theory. Mydeimos clearly is an alpha. But, then again, how could an alpha find another alpha’s scent sweet? No, no, that makes absolutely no sense. Mydeimos must be an omega after all. Is that why he refused to marry this Hephaestion?
“Are you listening?”
Phainon is not. His head snaps up, face flushing. What the hell is he doing? He should stop living half of his life in his head.
“Curious,” Mydeimos says as he watches Phainon’s face gradually turning bright red. He leans in, long lashes fluttering, one corner of his mouth pulling up. “I guess this is going to be quite easy, seeing how hot you’re already for me.”
“Hot!?” Phainon practically yells, voice cracking. “No, no, you’re imagining things! It’s just that it’s really hot in here and I am not particularly good with heat.”
That only causes the man’s smirk widen, making Mydeimos look devilishly handsome. No way would an omega smirk like that, so that means he has to be an alpha.
“Alright then,” Mydeimos takes a step closer and Phainon unconsciously takes a step back. Everything about this man screams danger, from his otherworldly face to his perfectly tailored suit. And yet, for some reason Phainon’s pulled towards him, like a lost soul of a sailor towards a siren’s song.
Mydeimos reaches out, tipping Phainon’s chin up, turning his face from side to side. And Phainon? Phainon just lets him, too stunned to resist.
“I got to admit you have exceptionally good features. They would look nice mixed with mine.”
They’re close enough now that Phainon can feel the other’s breath brush against his lips. Fresh mint with something fruity that he can’t quite put his finger on…
“So how about I make you that offer?”
With that, Mydeimos steps back, pulling out a small piece of paper. He places it in Phainon’s hands who stares at it in confusion.
A business card.
A fancy one.
Mydeimos
Managing Director, Castrum Kremnos.
Phainon flips it over a couple of times, finding a phone number written on the other side.
“Why are you giving me this?”
“Because I want you to become my mate."
Alright, so this is a dream. And what a dream of grand delusion, like in one of those sappy romance novels!
“A what?”
“As I told you already, I cannot marry Hephaestion, but I also understand my mother's worries. To make sure she doesn’t try anything else, I have to marry someone of my own choosing.”
Right.
Something, something mother marriage. Phainon only hears half of the words. He almost forgot that he’s in this mess because of a guy named Hephaestion.
“I’m sorry but I still don't understand."
Why would Mydeimos want to marry him?
“I can pretend to be your fiancée if you want to fool your mother.”
But there is no need for them to actually marry, Mydeimos is just being silly.
“I can just do that for a while until you finds a more suitable partner.”
After all, marriage is a big deal, not something to do because of a mother’s wish.
“Would that be alright?”
Phainon looks up, expecting the other to agree. But instead, Mydeimos just stares at him with the most intense look he’s ever seen. Then, after a prolonged pause, he finally opens his mouth to speaks again.
“No.”
The word hits like a hammer.
“There is no need to do that. I don’t have the time or the patience to go on dates and look for a mate. Besides, you have an attractive face, so I may as well marry you.”
Phainon opens his mouth in protest but the other is already getting up. Mydeimos gives him one last look before he turns to the direction of the door. “So if you’re open to my suggestion, give me a call and we’ll figure something out.”
“Wait, but that’s—” Phainon starts as Mydeimos ignores him while striding out. Phainon is left with his mind reeling and a fancy business card in his hands.
[Part II: First date, last date?]
“Oh wow, you look terrible! What exactly was the intention here?”
That is precisely what Phainon didn’t want to hear, why he was trying to be sneaky. It’s not that he’s going for anything fancy, he just needs something acceptable enough. And he is not going on a date, this is just a casual business meeting.
“I was hoping to look nice, Cyrene.”
“You failed. That is not a good fit.”
“Alright then,” Phainon sighs, flopping backwards onto his bed, his will to live quickly departing. He knows he’s not going to accept the proposal, but he just wanted to be nice. Rejecting Mydeimos over a text seemed like such an asshole thing to do.
“So what’s the occasion?”
Phainon groans.
“An invitation to a restaurant.”
If only
If only it was as easy as he made it sound. If only it was just a casual meeting. Last night he hadn’t slept a wink, turning in his bed like a rotisserie chicken. Words kept replying in his head, making less and less sense with each time.
An offer. A proposal. To become a mate. Marrying for the sake of convenience…
“Who invited you? A love interest?”
Phainon waves her off quickly. “Of course not!”
He just can’t do it, no matter how much he’d reasoned with himself about it in his head.
“A friend asked me to meet up with him, it’s a casual dinner, nothing more.”
He’d called Mydeimos to refuse the offer and, instead of a quick chat, he’d suggested a meeting. A meeting to the kind of place that had no menus but an extensive invitation list.
“For someone who works at a fashion house, you sure cannot dress yourself.”
“I’m in charge of the security, Cyrene. That has hardly anything to do with fashion.”
Besides, he can dress himself just fine, his roommate is just being a hater.
“Hmmm… well, then how about this,” Cyrene says as she taps her cheek. “I will help you with your outfit and, in return, you spill the beans on who you’re meeting.”
”Really?” Phainon groans, lifting his head, looking at his reflection in the floor-length mirror. It screams at him that something is wrong, no matter how hard he’s tried to make himself pretty.
“Fine,” he sighs, resigning himself to his fate. He really doesn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb. Besides, what’s the use of this secrecy; he’d have told Cyrene everything sooner or later.
*
Phainon arrives at the restaurant a full hour early. Definitely the wrong thing to do. And yet, he can’t help but think it’s better to be on time than being late. Even if an hour early is not exactly what most people mean by on time.
He should probably wait outside, maybe grab a coffee and take a walk — pretend that he has an actual purpose instead of just loitering around. But the looks that he gets aren’t subtle and every glance makes him painfully aware of himself. Cyrene truly went all out the moment she heard who he was meeting.
“Oh my god, we’re going to be rich!”
“Who exactly are ‘we’, Cyrene?”
He glances at the nearest reflective surface that happens to be a fancy shopping window. His own face stares back at him, hair neatly combed and slicked back. His eyes are outlined with a thick eyeliner, a stylish choker around his neck. Cyrene even added a lip gloss as if that wasn’t a complete waste of time.
<<Congratulations on your engagement>> reads the text on the advertisement behind his reflection.
Fantastic. He’s standing outside a jewelry store. His whole life must be some cruel joke.
There is no time like the present
Phainon sighs once a couple of guys whistle as they pass him by. He may still be half an hour early, but his patience has already run thin.
“Your name, sir?” the host at the front asks when Phainon enters the grand building. He swallows thickly at the question, looking the guy up and down. He should be the one on a date with Mydeimos with how well he fits in here.
“Phainon.”
He sure hopes that the other has at least mentioned his name under the reservation. It would be way too awkward to explain who exactly he is waiting for.
“Pie—non,” the host mutters as he types away on his notepad.
Phainon shifts awkwardly from one foot to the other, wondering if it’s of any use to correct his name. Maybe it wouldn’t be all that bad if he were turned away. The suit is a size too small and the jacket barely covers his chest that is jutting out. The trousers are uncomfortably tight and make his thighs look way too big. The polished shoes bite into his heels, reminding him that they’re not the right size either. If anything, surviving all this time in this getup has convinced Phainon what his answer will be.
“Pie-non—”
“It’s Phai-non.”
He’s never agreeing to this insane proposal, even if Mydeimos looks like a living painting. Phainon still got some integrity left and there’s no amount of money in the world that can buy it.
“Ah!” the host gasps, looking surprised. Seems like his name is on the guest list after all. “Oh, I apologise for the wait, sir. Mydeimos is already waiting for you.”
So much for confidentiality, Phainon sighs, Mydeimos sure isn’t being subtle. Besides, he is already waiting? But Phainon is at least twenty minutes early! What’s the point of being early if the other party is even earlier than him?
“Please follow me.”
And Phainon does, like a trembling lamb brought to slaughter. If he could, he would run away, but it’s too late to do that. Instead, he dutifully steps into the fanciest place that he’s ever seen in his life. There are only a handful of tables, spaced generously apart. Everyone here is dressed to the nines, their strong scents mixing together.
“Right this way,” the host says as he ushers Phainon into a more intimate area. Phainon nearly walks into a wall while he keeps gawking at the furniture. The chandelier alone, he calculates, must be worth more than the entirety of Aedes Elysiae. How the heck did a countryside boy like him end up in such an extravagant place?
No, no. This all feels wrong. He should leave before things get too far.
“Phainon.”
Oh no
That deep voice snaps him out of his downward spiral. Mydeimos, tall and elegant as ever, is watching him with his golden eyes.
“It is my pleasure seeing you here.”
And Phainon knows he’s completely fucked. A flurry of butterflies erupts in his chest, a devious desire stirring in his gut. Mydeimos is far too attractive to be real and his knees are already turning to jelly.
“Likewise,” he mutters, barely audible, unable to look the other in the eyes. Why did he even come here? Something about not marrying Mydeimos? No way. He should marry this man and then spend the rest of his life at his feet—
“Allow me,” Mydeimos says, stepping closer and taking Phainon’s hand in his. “You clean up nicely.” He says and smiles as he presses a soft kiss to Phainon’s fingers.
An omega. Mydeimos is an omega, right? Or an alpha. Or a beta. Or— Phainon doesn’t know. He sits down when the other nudges him forward, pulling a chair out for him.
“Uh,” is what tumbles out of his mouth. He really should be ashamed of himself. He’s normally quite the eloquent speaker, yet around Mydeimos he sounds impaired.
“That was… you didn’t need to do that.”
You’re an alpha. Alpha. Alpha! Remember!
But the butterflies in his stomach are losing their minds at everything that Mydeimos does. The place where his lips touched his skin burns, longing for a longer contact.
Alright.
He’ll just assume Mydeimos is an alpha. That would make the most sense. Maybe something is off with Phainon that his scent comes off as sweet. Besides, he’s heard of alphas being with other alphas, he just never thought that would be his case. But Mydeimos is such an attractive man that maybe—
His cheeks fill with hot shame.
If both of them really are alphas, which one would take the more submissive role? He may not be too experienced in this field, but he had a boyfriend back in Aedes Elysiae.
“You seem distracted,” Mydeimos says and Phainon snaps his gaze up. God, why is he acting so weird? Mydeimos must think him completely crazy.
“I’m sorry. I swear I’m not usually like this,” he blurts out, rubbing at his neck. “It’s just that… this is a very unusual situation and I keep finding myself spacing out.”
“That’s obvious,” Mydeimos replies. “But I get that a lot, so I understand.”
A frown replaces Phainon’s embarrassed expression. What does ‘I get that a lot’ even mean? Is Mydeimos some kind of a fuckboy? Toying with his inexperienced heart?
“I think anyone would find you baffling,” he quips back with a fake smile. Two can play at this game and Phainon’s not ready to roll over yet.
“Oh really?”
That gets him a raised eyebrow and it’s unfair how attractive that makes Mydeimos look. Phainon curses at his traitorous thoughts, halfway in love with this asshole already.
“I guess my behaviour has been a bit brazen.”
“You could say so,” Phainon huffs. The words come out steady, but he doesn’t feel nearly as confident as he appears. If only he’d put himself out there more as Cyrene had always urged him to do. Maybe then he’d have the confidence that the other seems to naturally exude.
A quiet moment settles between them, not quite uncomfortable but heavy enough. Phainon is painfully aware of his own breathing, the rhythmical beating of his heart. One, two, three thumps… He wishes he could say something but all his thoughts seem to have dissolved.
“Alright then,” Mydeimos finally speaks, leaning back with an easy calm. “Why don’t we eat first? You seem so tense that you might explode.”
Phainon opens his mouth in a protest, but then presses his lips together. Alright, so maybe the other is right, maybe he should eat something first. There’s no use of refuting Mydeimos just for the sake of being stubborn.
“Sure,” he sighs in defeat, “then I’ll just follow your lead for now.”
*
They end up having a three-course meal. The salad is Phainon’s favourite. Not that the meat isn’t cooked to perfection, but the crunchy leaves remind him of home.
“Another glass?” Mydeimos asks, lifting the bottle gracefully from the table. Phainon grins at him, warm and loose, finally feeling more like himself.
The food is good, but the alcohol? The alcohol is the undisputed MVP. Two glasses of the best wine Phainon’s ever tasted and he’s pleasantly relaxed. In fact, he’s already told Mydeimos everything about Aedes Elysiae. And then he spent a solid hour talking about Cyrene and their chaotic friendship.
“I see. So she’s your childhood friend and yet there are no feelings involved?”
Phainon blinks at the weird question. Why would there be feelings between him and Cyrene?
“As I understand, she is an omega?”
Oh. That.
“Yeah, but she's into girls.”
Cyrene is gay as fuck and, for that matter, so is he. It’s such a shame that Mydeimos happens to be exactly Phainon’s type. He would’ve liked to marry this man, but they both know that’s not going to happen. They are literal worlds apart and this guy deserves someone waaaay better.
“I see,” Mydeimos hums and takes a sip of his drink. Phainon drains the entire glass.
Even though the conversation is flowing, it feels extremely one-sided. Phainon’s the one doing all the heavy lifting, offering piece after piece of himself. And Mydeimos? He seems more like a spectator — listening, asking the occasional question.
Not like any of that matters, Phainon huffs as he leans back in his seat. He should simply enjoy their one evening together instead of getting hung up on things.
“So,” Mydeimos says after a while, setting his half-empty glass down, “now that you’re finally somewhat relaxed, why don’t we discuss my proposal?”
“Sure,” Phainon smiles wearily, the alcohol making him foolishly brave. Now is his chance to set things straight and tell Mydeimos exactly what’s on his mind.
“But I don’t need anything discussed as I have decided to—”
Not accept it
That’s the only reasonable answer.
“That I will—”
He’s absolutely sure of it. There were never any doubts in his heart, no other way this could have gone.
“That I…”
His voice trickles out as he looks at the impressive man sitting in front of him. Mydeimos is so beautiful like this, illuminated by the artificial lights. Would it really be that hard to fall in love with this beautiful person?
“I—”
And why should he not marry Mydeimos? Sure, that never was his intent. He thought he would marry some cute omega, that they would go back to live in Aedes Elysiae. He would build a house there and have some kids, a dog, keep a couple of goats… but dreams were just dreams and what did they matter in the grander scale of things?
“I have chosen to agree to your terms. Whatever they are, I’m fine with them.”
Phainon can’t believe his own words, and yet he can’t think of anything else. How can he possibly refuse Mydeimos when he so clearly needs his help?
Insanity
He stares at the hands in his lap, as if they don’t belong to him. The silence between them stretches indefinitely as he waits for any reaction from the other.
Did he say the wrong thing? Was this all just an elaborate joke? Phainon lifts his eyes up curtly, catching Mydeimos watching him with a dark look.
“I see.”
There’s hunger sparked by Phainon’s response, igniting a flame behind those golden orbs. All of a sudden he feels like a prey, gazed upon by someone dangerously feral. The air around them turns heavy and thick, and Phainon can’t help the heat that floods his face. It’s overpowering, suffocating, like he has no other choice. No other choice but to obey.
“Good.”
That’s when Mydeimos moves, rising from his chair and stepping closer. Each heavy footfall sends a shiver down Phainon’s spine, desire dancing in his gut. Even if he tried to escape, there’s no way he could get away.
“I’m very pleased with your answer,” Mydeimos says, leaning in far too close. His hand slides around the back of Phainon’s neck, fingers warm against his skin. “I just hope that you do realize that once you agree, I am going to mark you.”
His eyes trace the curve of Phainon’s throat, appreciating the unmarred skin.
“I— I wasn’t aware of that,” Phainon stutters, feeling a bit caught off guard. Marking him? Mydeimos is going to mark him? Like an alpha marks an omega?
“Too bad,” Mydeimos says, fingers picking at Phainon’s choker. “It’s baffling that you choose to protect your neck just like an omega would.”
Does he? Phainon never thought of it that way. He just thought it looked pretty.
“Would you like to be claimed by me?”
Phainon nearly chokes on his spit. Okay, Mydeimos is definitely an alpha, no omega would ever talk like that.
“I… would?”
He definitely would not, but his mouth seems to have grown a consciousness of its own.
“Then why don’t we take this somewhere more private?” Mydeimos suggests and Phainon blanks out. Is he being propositioned for sex? On the first date that’s not even a date?
“I’m drunk,” Phainon blurts out.
“Are you really?”
“Ok, I’m not.”
But he is a bit fuzzy. Whatever Mydeimos is doing to him has his mind dissolving into mush.
“I’m just flustered.”
“Is that going to be a problem?”
Is it? No. And that’s the thing. In any other situation? A huge problem. But with Mydeimos? Absolutely not. It’s like all of his inhibitions fall apart when he looks at the other’s beautiful face.
“It’s just that,” he says, cheeks burning, “I’ve never been in the submissive role, Mydeimos.”
A beat of silence. The other furrows his eyebrows as if deeply insulted.
“What did you just call me?”
Phainon blanks. Did he… did he pronounce it wrong?
“Mydeimos?” he tries again somewhat cautious. “Is that not how you are called?”
“I am,” the man exhales, dropping back in his chair. His brows are furrowed in unmistakable displeasure and Phainon has the insane urge to smooth them out with his thumb. He suddenly seems like a sulking child. “But that is not how I wish to be addressed.”
Phainon can’t help but let out a laugh. What an unexpectedly flippant person. He hides his smile behind his hand before he gives Mydeimos his best sympathetic look.
“Okay then, little spoiled prince. Would you prefer ‘your highness’ instead?”
The other’s eyes flick toward Phainon, catching the light with a dangerous spark.
“If you wish so, you may call me ‘highness’, but when I claim you, you will scream out ‘Mydei’ instead.”
[Part III: A capitulation]
They barely make it to the hotel when Phainon suddenly finds himself pressed against a door. In the hallway, outside their room, where literally anyone could walk by and see them.
“Mydei, wait,” he gasps, breath catching, as the other licks a line up to his jaw. Mydei. The name feels more natural than ‘Mydeimos’ as it smoothly rolls off his tongue.
“Mydei we— need to— get inside.”
“I’ll be inside of you soon enough.”
Phainon thinks he may go insane. Never before has he felt such desire. He may need to get his brain checked because surely this is not normal. Aglaea is probably going to kill him and Cipher? She’s going to have the time of her life. Not that he’s ever going to tell them, but still…
“Focus,” Mydei makes a low sound. His teeth scrape across Phainon’s neck as if in a warning, or a reminder. That’s a command that’s hard to obey when his brain seems to have turned to mush.
“Mydei, please.”
“Begging already?”
Phainon can feel the other’s smirk against his skin. Begging? Yes, apparently he is, asking for something completely indecipherable to his mind.
“Mydei—” he loses his balance when the pressure behind him disappears and the door opens. Phainon’s fully prepared to meet the carpet face-first, but a strong arm wraps around his waist. The other catches him mid-air with ease, flipping him over in his arms.
“Careful there.”
“And who’s fault is this?”
“At this point? Entirely your own.”
Touché
Phainon sighs and, without thinking, loops his arms around Mydei’s neck. He pulls the other in for a kiss, melting at the touch of their lips.
So maybe Mydei has a point; there is no one else to blame but him. Phainon is fully ready to commit to this relationship of five hours and fifteen minutes. So what if he feels completely out of place everywhere Mydei seems to feel at ease? They can just meet up for sex, Mydei will (probably) be fine with that.
“Off with this,” Mydei mumbles into the kiss as his hands tug at Phainon’s jacket. It slides off his shoulders and the shirt follows, several buttons scattering to the floor. Cyrene is going to murder him, maybe he shouldn’t even go back. Maybe he should just stay here and hope that Mydei will take him home.
A heavy hand lands on Phainon’s chest, startling him out of his jumbled thoughts. He looks at it, wide-eyed, before he lifts his gaze up.
“Caught you off guard?” Mydei tsks, amusement colouring his tone. Then, he gives Phainon a gentle shove. “That’s what you get for spacing out.”
Phainon yelps as he topples backward, world flipping until he hits the bed. An undignified “oomph” leaves his mouth as he bounces on the mattress a couple of times.
“That was—” he begins but doesn’t get the chance to finish as Mydei is already going after him. He moves with the slow, predatory grace of someone who knows exactly what he’s doing. Mydei settles over Phainon, bracketing his legs, and shrugs out of his own jacket. Then he reaches for the buttons of his shirt, unfastening them one after another.
And Phainon? Phainon stares at each confident movement, his breath catching as the shirt comes off. Mydei’s build is thoroughly impressive, strong lines of muscle beneath smooth skin. Red markings cover his body, lines leading to places where Phainon’s eyes can’t see.
He stares up at him. Mydei looks down.
“Never seen a naked man before?”
“No, but…”
Mydei isn’t just a man, he’s a celestial being sent down from the heavens. And, for some unexplainable reason, he’s chosen Phainon as his object of fancy.
“Don’t overthink it,” Mydei says, caging Phainon as he leans in. A hand on either side of his head and he’s trapped, hypnotised by this man. The other’s face is close enough now that Phainon can count each individual lash.
“You’re beautiful.”
“And so are you, spread out like a feast just for me.”
Mydei’s words make Phainon feel strange. He’s never been called beautiful before. Handsome? Yes, a lot of times, but in that tough, manly way.
It’s weird. They both are alphas and, by all logic, they both should be equal in their strength. So why does Phainon feels so weak, like something fragile that’s about to break.
“I’m not.”
And why is he blushing like a maiden? Even his ears have turned red.
“You’re stubborn, that’s what you are,” Mydei hums in reply, tipping Phainon’s chin up. He lightly presses down on the sides of his jaw, coaxing his mouth to fall open. For a while they just stay like that, frozen in the moment, before Mydei plunges his tongue down Phainon’s throat.
“Hmph!”
Phainon’s hands fly up, grasping at the other’s shoulders. His fingers dig into the naked flesh, as if grappling for some kind of semblance of control.
“Don’t fight me,” Mydei says as he takes hold of Phainon’s jaw. He stares into those blue orbs until the grip on his shoulders slowly weakens.
It’s futile.
Phainon’s eyes fall closed, a finite breath escaping his lips. There’s not a single ounce of control left in his body in the presence of this man. Whatever Mydei wants, Phainon will give him, submit to him flesh and mind.
“Never thought that my blunder at the party would lead me to someone sweet like you.”
Sweet?
Phainon chuckles to himself, thinking over Mydei’s words. What exactly does Mydei see in him? What part of him could be that attractive?
Instead of a reply, there are two digits shoved roughly into his mouth. Phainon chokes on them at first, mind reeling at the sudden intrusion. He glares up at Mydei only to find the man’s fiery gaze fixed upon him.
“Slick them up, I’ll use your spit to open up your body for my cock.”
Phainon’s whole face burns at those words, feeling like he may implode on the spot. Does Mydei truly expect him to provide his own “slick” in this degrading way?
“Hesitating?” Mydei tilts his head, completely unbothered by Phainon’s inner turmoil. He presses on his tongue harder, like a reminder of what he’s expected to do.
Phainon stares, mind still reeling, all his instincts telling him to disobey; until he finally closes his mouth and sucks, eyes never leaving Mydei’s. He lets his tongue lap at those fingers, just barely holding back a bite.
“Good boy.”
And the low tone and the praise nearly makes Phainon come in his pants. His thighs tense under the pressure, held firmly in place by Mydei’s strong legs. He wants to move, to grind onto something, to have some friction on his cock. Anything to release the overwhelming nervous energy that is racing through his bloodstream.
“Impatient,” Mydei says softly as he shifts, a hand working to unbutton Phainon’s pants. He pushes them down with practiced ease, as if he’s done this a thousand times before.
“Let’s see,” he mutters and with one swift move he pulls his fingers out of Phainon’s mouth. Then, he climbs off the bed and the sudden lack of weight leaves Phainon feeling cold. He exhales shakily, staring helplessly up at the white hotel ceiling. The beat of his heart has grown indefinitely loud, reverberating in his throat and his ears.
His rest is short lived when Mydei’s strong hands pull him farther down the bed. He yelps as he’s rearranged with effortless ease, legs pushed together and ass lifted up.
“What are you doing?” Phainon asks, cheeks aflame, cock trapped between his own thighs.
“And what do you think?” Mydei replies, that annoying eyebrow lifting up once again. There is a very obvious answer to that question, but Phainon’s too much of a coward to make a guess.
“Thought so,” Mydei tsks and then, without a warning, places a hand in-between his legs. Phainon’s breath catches as he feels a thick finger circling his entrance. He waits, fearful but anticipating, as it slowly breaches the tight ring of muscles. His first instinct is to scurry away before he stills, breathing out.
This is alright. This is fine
Phainon wants to have sex with this man.
Even if this is not the position he’s used to, what does it truly matter?
“Seems like in this particular case your scattered brain is a blessing in disguise.”
Phainon’s eyes lock with Mydei’s as he starts moving his finger around. It’s not an unpleasant feeling at all, just not something he’s used to. The slide isn’t particularly smooth but, then again, saliva isn’t the best lubricant.
“Alright?”
Phainon nods in response. So maybe this isn’t that hard after all. Maybe he can take Mydei just fine and maybe—
The second finger feels way bigger.
“Oh,” Phainon whimpers as he’s being stretched, his thighs trembling from the effort of holding himself still. Mydei is nothing if not thorough, pressing both of his fingers deep inside. He moves them around with great care, stretching his rim with every push.
“You’re too dry.”
Phainon blanches at the comment. Did Mydei expect him to produce slick?
“Of course I’m dry, I’m an alpa!”
“That doesn’t matter," Mydei groans.
At that moment Phainon can’t help but think that the other has fallen in some kind of delusion. “Of course it matters. I won’t produce any, no matter how hard you try.”
“It’s because you’re too nervous.”
“What does that have to do anything with producing slick!”
Phainon doesn’t get to say anything else as Mydei’s already pulling his fingers out. He pushes Phainon’s legs open, making himself comfortable between them. Phainon’s never been more confused, nor has he ever been more turned on.
“Mydei, please, what are you— gods,” he shatters under the other’s attention. The man’s mouth wraps around one of his nipples, sucking hard as if trying to draw milk. Phainon’s back lifts up from the bed, every nerve ending set on fire.
“Wait, stop, that feels—”
Weird. Weird, but good, but still really weird.
Mydei just lifts his eyes up, teeth grazing the sensitive nub. He watches Phainon’s face for a moment before he moves to the other side.
Phainon whimpers, eyes rolling back, intense pleasure radiating from his chest. His cock twitches, desperate for more stimulation, the friction not nearly enough to make him come.
“Mydei, please, I need you to touch me,” he begs, not caring how pathetic he sounds. He holds back a sob when the other bites him, unable to form a coherent thought.
“Touch you where?”
That damn bastard
“You know where!” Phainon yells in anger. Tears of frustration form in his eyes, threatening to fall down his cheeks.
“I will,” Mydei smiles, insufferably so, as one of his hands slides down Phainon’s body. His neglected cock jumps in anticipation, mouth already forming words of gratitude— “But not quite yet.”
Phainon groans loudly as the hand disappears from his body.
“Why not?”
“Because you’re too impatient. I will teach you a lesson, little alpha.”
With that, Mydei grabs Phainon’s hips roughly, dragging his ass up. Phainon watches with wide, disbelieving eyes as Mydei parts his cheeks and lowers his head. He’s not entirely sure what’s happening, but then there’s something wet and warm against his entrance.
“Mydei, wait—!”
Mydei does not wait. He digs his tongue inside of his hole. A half-yelp, half-scream escapes his mouth, the sound bitten off at the last moment. He tries to shift away from the sensation, but his arms are barely holding him up. It’s as if his body is refusing to cooperate, shudders wrecking him from the inside.
“What the heck—” Phainon mutters, trying to regain some control. He can’t. He’s completely overwhelmed by the tongue inside of him, prying him open.
“You’re crazy.”
“Am I really?” Mydei asks as he pulls back, a smug expression on his face. He’s looking deliberately not at Phainon but at something in-between his legs.
“That’s better,” he chuckles to himself as he gently lowers Phainon back onto the bed. He brings his fingers to the wet opening, pushing two inside with surprising ease. It comes as a shock, Phainon’s back lifting up from the bed, his mouth falling open.
“How,” he whispers as he watches Mydei drag his fingers out, coated in slick.
“Told you it didn’t matter,” the other says, sounding immediately pleased with himself. And Phainon has to wonder if he’s dreaming. Is this real? Or is he losing his mind? Maybe none of this is happening and he’s just making things up in his head.
“Watch me.” Mydei’s eyes lock with his as he brings his fingers towards his own mouth. He drags his tongue over them, a smug smile tugging at his lips. “You taste sweet.”
That’s it. Phainon’s dying. This is how he goes out. His face, his ears are set ablaze, burning with the force of a thousand suns.
“I’ve got your full attention now.”
That is an undeniable fact. Even if he tried he couldn’t possibly look anywhere else but at this man.
“What are you?” Phainon breathes out, reverently, as if in a prayer.
“You still can’t tell?” Mydei leans in. One of his hands rests on Phainon’s neck. The other returns to in-between his legs, pressing three fingers into his heat.
The intensity of the pleasure is overwhelming, making Phainon completely pliant. He’s a sheep caught in a wolf’s jaws, a sacrificial lamb at the mercy of a beast.
Mydei’s movements are sharp and practiced as he shifts his fingers, loosening Phainon up. The hand at his neck feels like a promise, far too big to comprehend. Something monumental is shifting within him, even if Phainon can’t quite tell what.
“I’m not an omega.”
That much is obvious.
“And I’m not a beta.”
Phainon figured that out.
A soft, involuntary sound escapes him as Mydei curls his fingers inside of him.
“We’re so similar, you and me, and yet I am something so much more.”
Phainon stares up at the other in daze, his mind barely acknowledging the words. He should understand what Mydei is saying, but the meaning seems to be completely lost. The man is something, that much is clear, but at this point none of it truly matters.
“Mydei, please.”
He wants to come, so badly he’s ready to beg for it. Mydei chuckles as he pulls his wet fingers out of Phainon’s willing body. “Such an obedient little thing. Have you been waiting for me all your life?”
Phainon bites his lip. Does Mydei truly expect an answer to this embarrassing question?
“Just fuck me,” he mutters, turning his head, frustration rolling off of him in waves. He doesn’t really care anymore. What good would it do to deny his desires? He wanted Mydei the moment he saw him, wanted to be pressed into the mattress.
“Still so impatient,” Mydei rolls his eyes, but there is fondness in his voice.
Phainon's world tilts the next moment as he’s unceremoniously flipped over on his belly. He finds himself staring at the sheets, disoriented from the sudden change.
“Why?” he glances back just as Mydei adjusts his hips, positioning them higher. Like this, he can’t see Mydei’s beautiful face, which feels like a huge disadvantage.
“Easier for first-timers,” Mydei explains as he presses a steadying hand between Phainon’s shoulder blades. “Stay down. I don’t want to hurt you, I’m not exactly what you call entree-level.”
A breathless laugh escapes Phainon. Oh, he truly is in trouble now. And yet, he remains perfectly still, not daring to move a muscle. It’s strange, never once before had he imagined himself getting fucked, but here he is, face down, ass up, thighs spread and his hole dripping. What a strange turn of events, what an unpredictable moment in time.
Something large presses against his opening and Phainon swallows down hard. Just by the feel of the tip of it, he realises what exactly Mydei meant. The last time Phainon was intimate with someone was with a beta back at his village. The man had complained about his size, as if that’s something he could’ve changed. Of course Phainon was well-endowed, just like an alpha was expected to be, so it only made sense that Mydei would be his equal, if not of an even more impressive size.
“Nervous?”
“As if!” Phainon laughs.
Oh, he is incredibly nervous.
Gods help him to walk tomorrow or ever leave this bed again. If he had any sense of self-preservation, he would have backed out ages ago. But Phainon was nothing if not determined and foolishly ready to see this thing through.
“Relax. You’re too worked up. I promise that this will hurt only a bit.”
Phainon’s hole clenches, more slick gushing out, dripping down his already wet thighs. Now that is absolutely concerning. He absolutely should not be dripping wet. With that beta they’d practically bathed in lube just to make the experience pleasant.
“Mydei—”
“Shhh,” long fingers wrap around his throat, a steadying presence. “It’s going to feel overwhelming at first, but your body will adjust to me just fine.”
Warm lips brush his jaw and trail lower, making Phainon shudder in response.
“You will take all of me in, right? You’ve been so good for me so far.”
Phainon whimpers. What a ridiculous thing to say, and yet he wants to be good. He wants to make Mydei feel good, wants to hear more of that low, velvety voice.
“I will. Just please, please fuck me.”
And that seems to break the dam.
Mydei pushes in and, together with the blunt ache, comes a whole flood of sensations — an overwhelming feeling of being stretch open and slow, burning pleasure that follows; his back arching, Mydei’s steady hands, his fingers clawing at the sheets.
Phainon bites back a cry, his throat dry from breathing too fast. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes that Phainon stubbornly blinks away.
“Too much?” Mydei asks, his voice softer than before. Phainon shakes his head in disagreement, of course it’s not too much, he’s an alpha!
“I am feeling just fine,” Phainon groans, gritting his teeth. “This is— nothing. This is easy. You can go harder if you want.”
“Stubbornness—” Mydei shakes his head at him, pulling all the way out. “Is going to be the death of you. You’re lucky that I am being so nice.”
He slams back inside and Phainon gasps, Mydei is definitely not being nice.
“You’ve fallen silent.”
Phainon huffs in response. Of course it’s hard to talk with someone rearranging his insides. With each new thrust he can feel Mydei’s thick cock sliding deeper inside.
“It’s just that—”
It’s a lot, he has to admit, yet this is not entirely unpleasant. He likes the way Mydei holds him down, likes the other’s hands on his body.
“Lift your hips up a little higher,” Mydei’s hot voice whispers into his ear. Phainon’s face burns in shame and mortification, mind rebelling at the words. It’s a bit too late to protest now, but a spark of stubbornness flickers within him.
“I do that on the second date,” a breathless joke punches out of his lungs, “so why don’t you beg me for a change? Maybe I’ll take pity on you.”
The assault on his ass stops, Mydei’s hands tightening at his hips.
“Oh really.”
A heat spreads through his insides as the other leans fully over his back. Their bodies pressed together, both damp with sweat, pushing Phainon to his absolute limit.
“What a silly thing to say,” Mydei teases, voice dangerously low, “but on the second date I’ll tell you to kneel and you will do so, begging for my cock.”
A violent shudder, a pointed thrust and Phainon chokes as he almost comes. Mydei is a dangerous creature, a deadly force wrapped in a beautiful facade. And Phainon is falling for it like a fool, surrendering himself entirely to this pleasure.
Each new thrust from Mydei drives the air from Phainon's lungs even further. His thoughts, once a jumbled mess of confusion, blurs into a single, overwhelming sensation. He is consumed by raw, animalistic pleasure, his own primal instincts eclipsing all reason.
Mydei bites him and the fight against the inevitable becomes completely futile. Phainon comes, muscle spasming, a guttural moan escaping him.
Strong hands hold him still, guide him through the blinding pleasure, and for a few blissful seconds there are no thoughts in his head. Then Mydei moves, resuming his thrusts, stretching Phainon over his cock like a sleeve. Phainon pants for it like a bitch, like a mutt that’s been thrown a bone.
What a terrible, mindless defeat.
What a beautiful, full surrender.
“Perfect.”
Phainon’s mind clears at the word, the sweet tone sobering him up. He slowly descends from cloud nine, awareness returning to his limbs. And with it comes the startling realization that this is not the end, but just the beginning. He’s stuck here, overwhelmed and twitching, with no hope for a break.
“M-Mydei, wait…”
He tries anyway, wincing when Mydei drives into him hard. The man has not sped up, nor has he slowed down; his pace remains steady, relentless, like a claim.
“Please—”
The battle is already lost, yet the fight is still being fought. Phainon moans, shamelessly so, torn between wanting more and wanting to breathe.
“Can you—” a sob catches in his throat, “can you give me a short—”
“No.”
A hand tangles in his hair, gripping at the roots, pushing his face into the sheets. Mydei holds him down with force, pressing him deeper into the mattress. And Phainon wishes, oh how he wishes, that he could deny this brutal want. Wishes he could deny the heat curling in his gut, the thrill in his heart at Mydei’s rough treatment.
“You want this.”
He does. Oh, how he does, that part he can no longer deny, but his insides are slowly turning to mush and his hole is losing the ability to close.
“Yes. Yes! But Mydei, please—”
Mydei drags him upwards by hair, his back arching to its breaking point. He pounds into his ass unrelenting, heavy puffs of air falling from his lips.
“Take it.”
And Phainon does, willingly so, the last thoughts in his head dissolving. His body moves together with the other’s, mindless sounds spilling out of his mouth. He needs this, needs every deep plunge, every thick inch of that cock. He’d kneel if told, beg if asked, do anything just to please this man.
Deeper. Deeper still. Harder
The friction is maddening, pushing him closer to the edge, even if he’s just come. Phainon clutches the sheets, knuckles white, as his world narrows in on the building heat. It's a surrender he never imagined, a wild, exhilarating ride.
Mydei’s control slips, the hand around Phainon’s neck tightens, mouth crashing against his in a fierce, claiming kiss. An overwhelming pleasure rips through him and Phainon cries out as he comes.
He barely registers the rush that follows, the feel of hot seed filling him. He’s undone, fucked so thoroughly that he knows he’ll never want anyone else. He’s ruined, completely ruined, belonging to Mydei and Mydei only.
“You’re mine now.”
Phainon hears the words, voice distant in his dazed mind. Something warm brushes his throat, followed by a sudden, sharp pain. It comes as a shock as pain trickles through his body, and then something sweeter drips into the mix. It feels like he is back home, a completion that he didn’t know existed.
“Sleep,” the same tender voice whispers, soothing the sting with soft, tender licks. Phainon lets his mind roam, allowing his body to relax all at once.
As he drifts to sleep, he knows he wants to stay here with Mydei no matter what.
[Part IV: The morning after]
Phainon wakes up feeling wrecked.
His muscles ache with every movement, tongue feeling dry like sandpaper in his mouth. He pushes himself up on an elbow, hissing at the sharp ache coming from his ass.
His back protests angrily, the rim of his hole sensitive as he clenches it. Well, at least he’s still able to clench it after what Mydei put it through. And yet, a traitorous little voice in his head murmurs ‘thank you, that was great’.
Phainon groans and buries his face into the pillow, surprised at the fresh smell of it. He lifts his head and looks around, unable to spot Mydei anywhere.
So he’s gone. Alright. That’s fine. Phainon is completely alright with that. Not like he expected Mydei to stay and have a nice cuddling session.
With a sigh he takes a look at himself, surprised that he isn’t covered in any weird liquids. The sheets seem to be clean too, which means that Mydei changed everything.
That is… thoughtful. Mortifying, but thoughtful. The idea of Mydei seeing him like that isn’t pleasant. Definitely not the most dignified situation that Phainon's ever found himself into.
Whatever
He tries to get himself into a sitting position, immediately whimpering at the sharp ache. His hand flies to his neck, breath catching when he feels something there.
The bite
Using strength he didn’t know he possessed, Phainon stumbles into the bathroom. He takes one look at his reflection and cringes inwardly at the way he looks. Bruises and hickeys bloom across his body, bite marks left in sensitive places. It almost appears like he had a fight with a lion and he’s the undisputed loser.
That bastard
Resigned, Phainon traces the most damning evidence of last night. It stands out, the deep red mark on his neck, with uneven sides like a wound.
A claiming bite?
No, that can’t be… for an alpha, how could this possibly work? No bond is stronger than that of an alpha and an omega, at least that’s what he’s heard everyone says. Not that Phainon ever cared about that, a compatibility of characters seemed more important to him.
Phainon exhales, closing his eyes. He needs to calm down, there is no need to panic. He knew exactly what he was getting into, agreed to Mydei’s every whim. He did this out of his own desires, spread himself open without a second thought…
And why exactly did he do all that?
Phainon frowns. It makes no sense.
He only met the guy twice and yet he was ready to fulfil Mydei’s every wish? Never before had he even thought about letting another touch him that way. But for some reason he was so hot for Mydei that he just couldn’t control himself?
No, no. Something isn’t right. Phainon can feel his anger surging. He storms out of the bathroom, fully prepared to gather his things—
—and walks straight into the culprit.
Mydei’s standing in the doorway, hair tied back, skin glowing. His golden eyes are wide open, a tray full of goodies in his hands.
Phainon melts at the sight, all of his anger disappearing.
“You’re up,” Mydei says.
Phainon nods in response.
“And you’re naked.”
“Oh.” Phainon looks down.
He is, indeed, very naked, his marred skin on full display. Phainon’s cheeks turn dark pink. Could he try to embarrass himself more?
“Uhh—” once again eloquence escapes him. It seems like all he can do is stutter and blush. But maybe they do not need any words for whatever relationship their future holds. “Do you mind?”
Mydei laughs, his voice unrestrained and clear. Not a cutting remark, nor a mocking smirk, and Phaionon knows that he’s already in love.
“You’re sweet,” Mydei says. “And your body is beautiful, I don’t mind seeing you naked.”
And it doesn’t even sound condescending, it’s a statement that rings genuinely true.
“Alright then,” Phainon forces the blush away, his gaze drifting down to the other’s hands. Being naked doesn’t matter, Mydei’s already been inside of him. What matters is that he’s carrying a tray with what looks like coffee and warm pancakes.
“For me?”
“Don’t you enjoy breakfast in bed?”
Mydei may as well have asked if he hates puppies. Who doesn’t enjoy breakfast in bed? Especially after such a back-breaking sex.
“You know what— let’s just pretend that you didn’t see me here and I’m still asleep.”
That said, Phainon hurries back to the bed and dutifully packs himself under the covers. Mydei walks up to him in a moment, shaking his head at the other’s shenanigans. He sits down on the edge of the bed, looking at Phainon with a warm expression. Phainon’s not entirely sure what he did to earn such affection, but he will not question it. He may be a bit brazen, but he is not completely stupid.
“Breakfast in bed? Oh, what a surprise!”
Mydei rolls his eyes in response. A slightly awkward silence follows where Phainon appreciates the content of the tray. The pancakes look freshly made with butter and jam slowly melting into the surface. Phainon’s mouth waters at the sight, but he knows there are things he should ask first.
“You must be wondering what exactly am I.”
That, yes, but also if Mydei cooked these himself. But one of those questions is of a higher importance and Phainon decides to not fool around.
“I’m pretty sure I know what you’re not. You were very clear to tell me last night.”
Phainon’s stomach growls loudly and Mydei smiles at him with deep fondness. Such a gorgeous, composed man and for some unfathomable reason he likes Phainon?
“I’ll tell you while you eat,” Mydei says, pushing the tray closer to him. Their hands brush against each other, a shiver going down Phainon’s spine.
He’s fucked.
Literally and figuratively, he’s fucked, and he isn’t even sure how to feel about that. Whatever their relationship will be going from here, Phainon won’t ever want anyone else.
“Is this your plan to shut me up?”
“It worked quite successfully last night.”
Phainon turns scarlet. “Oh, whatever,” he grumbles before shoving a pancake in his mouth. He nearly moans as the first bite of a perfectly fluffy dough hits his tastebuds.
“Damn,” he says around a mouthful, “I could marry you right now.”
“That can be arranged.”
Phainon stuffs another piece in his mouth just to shut himself up. Does Mydei really mean it or is he just joking around? Does he actually want to marry Phainon or does he just want to please his mother?
“Alright, enough of this silliness. We need to have a serious talk.”
Phainon disagrees. He never wants to have a serious talk with Mydei. And yet, there is no way of avoiding it, no matter how much he’d like to try.
“Well, fine, then you start. What exactly are you?”
Not an omega, that much is clear. Not a beta. And not an alpha. So the only possible answer left is…
“An enigma.”
Phainon glances down at his plate, a strange heat filling his stomach. A feeling that wasn’t there before, something bothersome and insistent like an itch.
“An enigma...”
Like an alpha but on steroids, someone whose draw is almost impossible to refuse.
“I didn’t think those actually existed.”
“Do I look imaginary to you?”
Phainon stuffs another piece in his mouth, thoughtfully chewing while staring into the distance.
Behave. Such a good little alpha
The pancake suddenly tastes too dry. He puts the fork down, taking the coffee, washing it all down with the bitter drink.
“Mydei.” He asks, voice small. “Can I… can I ask you something?”
The shift is immediate, Mydei’s smile falters and something in his posture tightens.
“Go on.” He sounds casual, nonchalant, yet there is nervousness in his voice. Gone is the tender, caring tone, replaced by something far more restrained.
Phainon stares at the plate. “Why didn’t you tell me from the very start?”
Behave. Behave. Behave, little alpha
Did he even have a choice?
Mydei stands up swiftly, abruptly, turning his back towards him. He walks over to the window, looking out like some tragic hero from a romance novel.
“I guess I feared this exact reaction.”
“You guess?” Phainon can’t believe his words. “That’s all? That’s your explanation?”
“Fine. I knew you would react this way.”
The implication of those words stings, like he’s some fool that cannot be trusted. Does Mydei really think he’s some unreasonable kid that cannot keep a secret?
“Is this why you broke up with Hephaestion?”
Mydei turns, eyes narrowing dangerously.
“No.”
“No? Are you sure or are you making another guess?”
That’s it. Mydei’s composure breaks. He snarls at Phainon like a feral beast.
“Don’t you dare to talk about things you know nothing about.”
Then it’s over, Mydei reins it back in, smoothing his hair with a trembling hand.
“Phainon, I’m sorry,” he says, voice sharp. “That was completely inappropriate of me.”
But it’s already too late. Phainon’s already seen too much.
Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Hold your mouth
“Is that what you’re truly like, Mydeimos?”
Oh, but he could never hold his mouth.
Mydei’s expression twists with sorrow, confirming that yes, saying that was a mistake.
“Is that who you think I truly am?”
Phainon bites his lip. Does he? “No…” he must have let his frustrations lead him. “No, not really… I shouldn’t have said that.”
“You really shouldn’t,” Mydei responds, the following silence sharp and unpleasant. For a moment longer he hesitates, before letting out a tired sigh.
“You can leave whenever you wish, I will not hold you to any promises. And that bite?” Mydei shoots Phainon a condescending look. “Nothing but a scar that will fade away.”
Cold dread seeps in Phainon’s core. No, wait. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.
“Wait, Mydei,” Phainon starts, a wave of panic washing over him. “Let me explain, it’s not that I think you’re a monster, it’s just that—”
“Just what?”
Suddenly, Mydei’s in front of him, eyes blazing, his presence overbearing. “What exactly do you think I did? Used my pheromones to get you in bed?”
Phainon opens his mouth, then closes it. That’s exactly it, that’s what he thinks. And is he even wrong in his assumptions? An enigma’s pheromones are impossible to resist.
“Yeah, thought so,” Mydei scoffs. “You’re just like the rest of them.” He shakes his head, pulling away. “But you’re wrong, I am not that kind of a person. I’ve been wearing blockers all this time.”
With that, Mydei turns around and walks out without as much as a backward glance. The door slams shut, the sound echoing like a verdict, leaving Phainon on his own.
Oh
He blinks as he looks down at the still warm pancakes in his lap. He’s messed this one up quite badly. Why does he always have to mess things up?
[Part V: Some stages of grief]
“Phai! Where were you?”
Phainon groans. The last person he wants to deal with right now is Cyrene. He knows she means well, but she’s also loud, too noisy and will call him out for being a fool. Not that he’s not, but he already knows it and he just wants to slip in his room and sleep.
“Oh wow, did a bear maul you?”
“Cyrene, those comments aren’t helping.”
That seems to only intrigue her more, her curious eyes studying his face; then his neck that he tried to cover, and finally her eyes land on his lower half.
“Mind walking a bit for me?”
“Cyrene, don’t.”
“Oooh, so you finally did get fucked!”
“Cyrene,” Phainon groans, dragging a hand down his face. He cannot deal with her right now. Besides, what does she mean by finally? Phainon has never—
“Was it good?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Too bad, Phai. I do.”
Which means he’s dragged to the couch, a pillow shoved behind his back. She throws a quilt over his legs, tucking him in like a small child.
“Tell me everything,” she says as she makes herself comfortable beside him, eyes sparkling.
“Cyrene, no. It’s… not what you think,” Phainon lets out a deep sigh. “I somehow managed to mess everything up, so it’s not the romantic story that you’re hoping to hear.”
“That’s nothing new,” she shakes her head, “that’s your usual modus operandi. Why else would you still live with me? You just can’t find anyone else to tolerate you.”
Phainon frowns.
“Wait… but in that case… wouldn’t that kind of make you a loser?”
“Excuse me, this isn’t about me.”
“Right,” he chuckles despite himself.
Phainon absentmindedly smooths out the creases of the jacket that he so dearly dislikes. The fabric feels stiff and uncomfortable and, after last night, just downright disgusting to still be in. Phainon just wants to get out of these clothes and have a nice, uninterrupted sleep. Preferably for several long months where he doesn’t have to think about anything.
“You know,” he lets out another deep sigh. In a way, he does feel kind of wronged, “all of this can’t be my fault. I just tried to help a guy out.”
Cyrene nods, tilting her head like an owl that’s watching her next prey. She dashes quickly to the kitchen and comes back with two cups of steaming hot cacao.
“There, this will make you feel better.”
“You know I don’t like this sweet stuff.”
“Drink it or I will drown you in your own sorrow.”
So Phainon does, taking large gulps.
Now that he’s had some time to think, this whole thing appears truly absurd. How is he the only one to blame? Is it his fault that Mydei’s so stupid? Is it his fault that he misunderstood? Is it his fault—
He stops himself.
No, none of this would have happened if that arrogant fool just knew how to talk. But no. Of course that would be too simple, too reasonable of a solution. Which brings Phainon to another, completely unrelated issue.
“Cyrene… do you think I’m submissive?”
The laughter that erupts is answer enough. Phainon sinks deeper into the cushions. He is not that submissive, right? All he wants is to please his partners. And if his partner of choice is Mydei, who can blame him for yielding a bit?
Or a lot. You bent like a bow
“Oh, Phai, at times you’re so funny,” Cyrene chuckles, wiping a tear from her eye. Then she looks at him, smile fading. “Wait. You’re really asking me, aren’t you?”
Phainon huffs. Now that’s just mean. Cyrene truly is the worst.
“Are you sulking?”
“I’m not sulking.”
“Oh my! You totally are!” Cyrene grins, pinching his cheek. “Oh, Phai, what a child.”
Phainon shoots up in his seat, regretting it instantly when his back protests.
“Ow—”
“You fool, settle down. Just sit and listen to what I’ve got to say.”
Cyrene pats his head as she pushes him back down, tucking him in once again. She takes the cup out of his hands, putting it carefully down on the table.
“Phainon… what can I even say?” She studies him quietly for a moment. “You’re a people-pleaser, that’s who you are, and you’ll bend over backwards to make others happy. Even in a more active role, you will still give into your partner’s demands, right?”
Phainon nods, unwilling so. “Yeah, and that’s the problem. I’m an alpha!”
“So what if you are? Are all alphas supposed to be mindless brutes?”
Phainon bites his lip, remembering Mydei’s eyes, that raw intensity...
“Are they not?” he mutters, face flushing. “What’s wrong with being a mindless brute?”
Cyrene tilts her head, smiling.
“And would you like to be a mindless brute?”
Phainon shakes his head. “No.”
“So what’s the issue, dear friend?”
There is none, Phainon stays silent. It’s not that he has an issue with submitting. It’s just that…
“I don’t want to be a replacement.”
“A replacement?” That familiar head-tilt again.
“You see… if I hadn’t happened to be in that room, at that exact point in time… none of this would’ve happened and Mydei would’ve chosen someone else.”
“Oh,” Cyrene’s voice softens. “You don’t believe in fate, right?”
It’s Phainon’s turn to tilt his head.
“Fate?”
“Like how the two of us met. Do you believe that it was just an accident or maybe something else was at play?” Her eyes sparkle as she looks at him, clasping one of Phainon’s hands. “Personally, I’d like to believe that there is a reason for everything that happens.”
Phainon scowls. Such naivety.
“Are you saying I was destined to meet Mydei?”
“Sure!” her smile turns even wider. “Without you the guy would’ve never done what he did!”
Phainon groans. What a childish take. But maybe Cyrene does have a point. Maybe Mydei’s actions were a direct response to him being there. So isn’t that even more regretful that he has managed to mess it all up?
“But what do I do now?” Phainon asks, the sickly sweet cocoa lingering on his tongue. “What do I do to make this all better? Is there a way to turn this around?”
“Have a bit of fate,” Cyrene winks, skipping carelessly to the kitchen.
“Right,” Phainon flops back into the couch, staring up at the stained ceilings. Maybe she’s right and he should stop thinking and just let things happen for once. As terrible a plan as it sounds, it might be the only one that he has. And if he never sees Mydei again… well, he’ll just have to live with that fate.
[Part VI: A curious encounter]
“You look like shit.”
“Thanks Cipher.”
“But then again, you always look like shit.”
Phainon eyes her with deep distrust. “I don’t think your taste in men is something I should concern myself with.”
“Oh, really?” She lets out a cackle. “Is it because I have such good taste?”
Phainon groans and does his best to ignore her as he returns to his papers. He still has a job to do; he can’t just drop everything and start to gossip.
“I heard you met up with Mydeimos. So, how was the feel of that royal prick?”
Just ignore her, Phainon thinks as he blissfully continues to work.
Aglaea has three meetings this week, each more important than the last. Phainon will accompany her to them all, ensuring that she’s properly protected. Phainon makes sure that he’s personally present at all the events that she has to attend. Even if she thinks it’s excessive, he will do everything to keep her safe.
“Aw, you’re no fun.”
“Cipher, I’m working.”
“So what?”
“Don’t you have anything else to do?”
Cipher gives him a nasty side-eye. Of course. Why did he even ask.
“Come on, spoilsport,” Cipher groans, lazily leaning against his chair. “This is exactly why I’m here! You see, as the head of Human Resources, I must know how all the employees are doing!”
“How thoughtful,” Phainon mutters to himself before he shoves the pile of the documents aside. “I guess I’ll just have to talk to you. So what if the boss gets attacked!”
“Dramatic,” Cipher rolls her eyes. “You know the security at these places is top-notch.”
She’s right. Why is she always right? Phainon lets out a long, tired breath. His mind is distracted by someone he refuses to name, what’s the use of pretending to work?
“So how are you and your lover doing?”
A short, bark-like laugh escapes him.
“What did you call him?”
“Your lover?” Cipher repeats, her cat-like features making her look way too smug. “Oh, is there trouble in paradise already? Are the wedding preparations not going well?”
“Oh, the wedding…”
Somehow through all this emotional chaos, Phainon had forgotten about the engagement. Are him and Mydei officially a thing? Or maybe they never were a thing. No news, no announcements, no tabloids reporting on their shock announcement at the party. The Kremnoean influence runs deep, Madam Gorgo must have had it handled.
“It’s not like that,” Phainon says, batting the heat from his face. “That was all just a misunderstanding, I talked to Mydei and he explained–”
“Oooh, so it’s Mydei now?” Cipher teases, eyes glinting with mischief. “Before it was all ‘the heir of Castrum Kremnos,’ but now he’s suddenly gained a pet name?”
Phainon groans. What a stupid slip-up. He really should’ve held his mouth closed.
“Fine, Mydeimos then. Are you happy? I talked to him and we agreed to—”
What?
Words escape him. Memories rush back. Warm hands. Golden eyes. The feeling of being too full. The safety of being engulfed in that tight embrace, trapped underneath the other’s body...
“Not …”
An enigma
“Cipher,” he mutters, “did you know that Mydei was an enigma?”
“Duh,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You really do live under a rock. That’s one of the reasons why the guy’s so famous!”
“Is it now…” Phainon hums. He probably should have looked deeper into the issue. Should have searched up some big tabloids, asked for some gossip from people around him…
“Is that really so widely known?”
Cipher shrugs. “Well, no, but also yes? It’s like a really well-known secret. Nobody talks about it, but everyone knows.”
“Right.”
Phainon stares at his papers. The meeting hall today is small. Just a fancy hotel venue that’s standard for these types of events. One main entrance, one for workers, fire alarms, cleared emergency routes. This is not a difficult job, and yet Phainon’s plagued by all these doubts. His thoughts are everywhere — scattered, unfocused. How is he supposed to live this way?
“You’re truly no fun,”
“I’m sorry, Cipher.”
“Oh dear lord, an apology?”
Phainon sighs. He isn’t trying to be dramatic. It’s just that he can still feel the sensation of Mydei’s cock deep inside of him and that’s…
They sit in silence for a bit, making the atmosphere extremely awkward. Cipher watches him with sharp eyes and Phainon tries his best to ignore her.
“You know…” she begins, and Phainon tenses. Is it so obvious that he is thinking of Mydei’s damp skin against his own?
“There you are! Both of you.” Aglaea arrives like the saving grace. She stares them down, obviously peeved, as she once again finds them slacking off.
“I swear, I leave you two alone for one second—”
“Oj oj, boss, I’m working hard!” Cipher’s voice comes out way too high as she jumps to her feet, smiling widely. “I was just making sure all is well as per my job description!”
“Oh really now,” Aglaea says. She sounds exhausted beyond her years. Phainon knows she has a weak spot for Cipher, no matter what trouble she gets into. Which begs the question…
“Get the car ready,” Aglaea interrupts that string of thought. “We are leaving in five minutes, I’d hate for us to be late.”
*
The car ride to the meeting is awkward. Not Cipher-level awkward, but still. Aglaea may not be directly staring at him, but he can feel her eyes on the back of his head.
“You know, Phainon…”
And there it is. He silently prays she won’t bring up Mydei.
“I want you to know that if you’re ever in trouble, you can confide in me.”
“Oh,” that’s not what he expected to hear. “Of course,” he will never tell her about this trouble.
“I care for you,” Aglaea continues, “and I will do what I can to help.”
Now it’s becoming Cipher-level of awkward, Phainon doesn’t like this one bit. He can kind of guess what Aglaea’s worried about, but he’s not entirely sure why. Does she truly believe that Mydei is forcing him into this marriage? That he’s stuck in a situation he can’t resolve? He is, but it’s one of his own making.
“I understand.”
He doesn’t, really, but he won’t argue about it. It’s not like this is the end of the world, he only needs to forget and ignore everything that went down between him and Mydei that night. What a bummer that from all this mess what stands out the most is just how good it felt.
Phainon has had sex before. It was fine, nothing particularly mind-breaking. But with Mydei it had felt special, an overwhelming experience that had left him wide open. The way Mydei had watched him every time he drove in deep of his willing body…
Cough
He forces the image out of his head, cheeks burning as he watches the road. Crashing the car because he got lost in a daydream would certainly make the news — “Aglaea’s personal guard causes a collision while he’s dreaming of sex.”
Thankfully, the hotel is close by and they arrive there in under half an hour. Phainon gets out first, scanning the surroundings and, once cleared, he lets Aglaea step out.
They meet up with the potential partner, a woman in her forties whose beauty lingers. Phainon wonders if everyone in this industry is just naturally elegant. It’s a non-brained, of course, how could anyone here afford to look sloppy?
“I’d like to have a meeting in private,” the woman says and Aglaea nods. Phainon will just have to wait at the entrance, nothing he hasn’t done before. It will leave him with his thoughts and that sucks, but it’s not like he’s never thought before. Maybe he should do a lot more thinking of how to stay out of trouble.
So Mydei…
Phainon leans against the wall, trying to sort out his mind. Whatever feelings he has for the other, he needs to put them to rest. He’s not the first guy Mydei’s fucked and he will definitely not be the last. Sure, the Kremnoan might be his first, but he’ll just have to live with that. Phainon can file it under ‘unusual experiences’ and try to never think of it again.
Or think of it less frequently.
Or maybe not every living, breathing moment of his life.
Phainon sighs. How cruel his fate that he may never see Mydei again. It’s a curse that his mind-shattering orgasm came from another man pinning him down.
“You’re Phainon! Right?” He’s startled out of his thoughts by an exceptionally bright voice.
“Yes?”
A beautiful stranger stands in front of him, with long, flowing hair and a pleasant smile. He’s delicate, smells like a flower bouquet, and carries himself with undeniable grace — a textbook omega if he’s ever seen one and this time Phainon has no doubts.
“I’m Hephaestion.”
Phainon’s brain stops working.
Hephaestion.
That Hephaestion?
As in, Mydei’s fiancé?
As in, the one he so publicly broke up with?
“Oh.”
What does he say? What can he say? How much does Hephaestion know about him?
“I’m sorry?”
The omega laughs in response and it sounds like music to Phainon’s ears. Mydei truly must be an idiot to pass upon someone this nice.
“No need to apologize,” the omega says, his voice as gentle as a caress. “I know you must have a lot of questions and I know that Mydei can be obtuse.”
“Well, yes and no,” Phainon admits. He knows this isn’t entirely Mydei’s fault even though he’d love to pin all the blame on that stupid enigma. “If you’re talking about the engagement, I am equally guilty in that one. I shouldn’t have entertained any of this madness, should have admitted I don’t know who Mydei is.” Phainon rubs his neck, the bite stinging, a painful reminder of the previous night.
“Oh, I don’t care about that,” Hephaestion grins, the corners of his eyes crinkling, “I’m just glad I found you here. I would like to clarify some things.”
Phainon lets out a bated breath. What a curious, sweet omega. Was he looking for him or was this, as Cyrene would put it, a fateful meeting that was supposed to happen?
“I just want you to know that I hold no grudges. Me and Mydei? Just friends.”
Phainon bites his bottom lip. “I thought you two were together for years?”
Hephaestion chuckles. Clearly untrue.
“We pretended to be a couple for years. But then things got a bit too serious and we had to find a way out of that lie.”
“Too serious?”
Did Mydei fall for the omega? Did he want something more and Hephaestion refused?
“Our parents wanted us to marry, but we both are… not each other’s type. But after ten years of fake dating, it’s hard to explain why we broke up.”
Ten years. Phainon cannot imagine why anyone would keep up such a charade for so long.
“Why pretend?” he wonders loudly.
“Oh,” Hephaestion shrugs. “Probably so that everyone would leave us alone?” He laughs awkwardly when he looks at Phainon who can’t hide the confusion from his face. “Besides, I’m in love with someone else and Mydei… he only does casual sex.”
Ah
So now it all makes sense. Mydei clearly was in love with Hephaestion. They were ‘just friends’ not by the enigma’s choice, but because he was too noble to demand for more.
“Oh great,” Phainon mutters. Now he truly feels like garbage. Like the absolute fool that he was, he assumed Mydei had ulterior motives.
“You should go see him.”
See Mydei? Phainon fears the other may not want to see him. He’d apologise to Mydei in person, but he doubts the man cares for such empty gestures.
“Mydei was right. You do space out a lot.”
“Excuse me?” Phainon’s confusion grows.
“Ah, sorry. I should explain.” A hand falls upon Phainon’s own. Hephaestion’s skin is soft and pale and Phainon can’t help to compare it with Mydei’s. For some reason he catches himself thinking that he prefers the latter’s touch.
“I talked to Mydei. About you two.”
Phainon’s face goes bright red.
“Did he— did he tell you that—”
“He fucked you like he had a debt to settle?”
“…yeah. That.”
Phainon feels like dying. So much for privacy or any semblance of dignity. After this conversation Phainon will find the nearest body of water and drown himself.
The omega squeezes his hand gently, looking at him with his big, sad eyes. “But please understand he wasn’t willing to talk, I dragged this out of him with my omega charm. I was truly worried for Mydei when he didn’t come in to work today!”
How unfortunate. Phainon’s unimpressed. Rich people truly function differently from the rest of them. He’s pretty sure if he ditched his work, he’d get fired soon after.
“He was sulking like a child.”
Mydei was…
“Sulking? Really?”
The heir of Castrum Kremnos was sulking?
“Yes, I think that he really likes you. It’s the first time I’ve seen him hung up on someone.” Hephaestion lets out a heavy sigh, giving Phainon’s hand a pat. “You may have met in unfortunate circumstances, but do you believe in such a thing called fate?”
“You should meet my friend Cyrene,” Phainon mutters to himself. Hephaestion sounds awfully like her, are all omegas cut from the same cloth?
“I’d love to,” Hephaestion says brightly, his eyes glinting with undeniable amusement. “If you and Mydei end up together, I’ll be thrilled to meet all of your friends!”
Phainon looks away. How embarrassing.
“I don’t think Mydei wants to see me right now. Besides, he’s an enigma. Isn’t he? I’m not sure that we are well suited for each other.”
He swallows hard, heat from his face radiating down to his throat. “Not that it’s bad to be with an enigma, it’s just that…” how is he to say all this? “I have been an alpha for so long, I don’t think I’d make a good omega—”
“Shush.” A finger lands on his lips. Hephaestion shakes his head in a warning. “I think that you’re making too many assumptions about something you know nothing about.”
Phainon stops, the omega is right. He is, as always, spewing nonsense.
“I’m sorry?”
“Don’t be, but before you make up your mind, how about you go and talk to the source?”
Hephaestion fishes a card out of his pocket, writing on it before he hands it to Phainon.
“I’ve written down Mydei’s address, so why don’t you go and visit him? My number is on the card as well, in case of something going wrong.”
“I really shouldn’t—”
“And I think you should,” the omega clasps a hand on his shoulder. He gives Phainon one more look before he smiles and walks away. Phainon watches Hephaestion disappear into one of the many winding hallways. Then, he takes a look at the card, a nervous excitement settling in his bones.
Is this what Cyrene would call fate? Mydei lives just a few blocks away from the hotel.
[Part VII: A lovely reunion]
It takes Phainon an embarrassingly short amount of time to make a decision. He leaves Aglaea a brief note, hoping for the best before he hurries away.
He makes a quick stop at a perfume store to spray some fragrance on his neck.
No, this is not him trying to appeal to Mydei, this is just him wanting to clear things up. He’ll go there, apologize, and when he comes back, that’ll be the end of it. They’ll both feel better and by tonight, they’ll each be sleeping in their own bed.
That’s the original plan, at least.
But, as usual, none of Phainon’s plans survive the first contact with reality. Once he finds himself standing outside Mydei’s apartment, he is overtaken by doubts.
The man lives in a nice building, but for some reason Phainon expected more. A mansion, maybe? With a butler. And an iron gate where he would be turned away.
That’s what should have happened, that would’ve been easy, but now he’s stuck here at the other’s door.
He knocks.
His heart thunders loudly. He is clearly making a major mistake. Maybe Mydei has gone to work or maybe that he’ll ignore the knock. Instead, he hears noises coming from the inside and a tired voice mumbling something in response.
“Hephaestion, for the love of god, how many times do I have to tell you—”
Mydei stops mid-sentence once he realises who’s exactly standing there. Phainon expects the door to be slammed in his face but, of course, that doesn’t happen.
“What do you want?” Mydei frowns. Phainon shifts awkwardly in his spot. A slam of the door would be preferable to the coldness Mydei radiates.
“I… came to apologize,” Phainon admits. He’ll just have to man up and be honest about it. “I accidentally met up with your friend and he gave me your address, so I thought—”
“I see. I will have to speak to Hephaestion.”
Phainon’s eyes snap wide open.
“No, please! This isn’t his fault! I came here on my own free will. He only gave me your home address, he didn’t push me to come here or anything—”
So why did he come? Phainon isn’t sure anymore. Guilt? Shame? Maybe regret. Something heavy sits in his chest that he knows he won’t be able to get rid of easily. He’s known Mydei only for a brief moment, but he would hate if this was the end of them.
“I know I assumed the worst of you and I know I deserve to be shamed for it. But I was confused and embarrassed of my feelings and I didn’t know what to do.”
Phainon takes a deep breath. No excuses. He will be honest.
“I just wanted to blame someone else for being such a pathetic alpha. I’m submissive, of course I am, and I deeply regret saying those things. So I came here because I wanted you to know that I’m deeply—”
“Stop. That’s enough.”
Phainon’s pulled in by his neck, his lips crashing into Mydei’s.
“Wait—” he gasps when they separate, Mydei’s hands falling to his waist. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”
Golden eyes meet blue.
“Perhaps,” Mydei says as he steals another kiss, his eyes clouding over with undeniable interest. “If you let me come inside tonight, I might as well decide to forgive you.”
“Let you come inside? But this is your apartment,” Phainon states, staring blankly. Then, after a beat too long, his face goes red with understanding.
“Oh gods.”
“Do we have a deal?”
“I think we should talk a bit more beforehand.” Phainon’s convinced that it’s humanly impossible to grow even redder than he already is.
Mydei studies him for a moment before he lets him go, turning away. He motions for the other to follow. “Then let’s talk first, so we can fuck later.”
He walks deeper into the apartment and Phainon dutifully trails behind him. He doesn’t know what to think, but it’s clear that Mydei at least wants his body. Phainon isn’t naive enough to think that sex and feelings go hand in hand. Even if Mydei wants to fuck him, he may not want anything else.
“Sit down,” Mydei says and without thinking Phainon obeys his order.
“Look at me.”
Phainon does.
“Bark.”
“Woof!”
Phainon stares at him in shock.
“Wait, no!”
What is he doing? Why would he bark on the man’s command?
“See?” Mydei’s voice turns gravely serious. “This is the power I hold over you.” Then, his expression softens deliberately. “But I’d never abuse it in this way. All I want you to understand is that this is how my pheromones work.”
Phainon nods.
“I understand.”
Does he? Not fully, but that doesn’t matter.
“I trust you not to be that kind of person to use your abilities in a malicious way.”
He swallows hard, awkwardly trying not to fidget too much. Mydei must sense that something is off with all the nervous energy rolling off of him in waves.
“Hm, alright then,” Mydei tilts his head. “Seems like there’s something else on your mind?”
“I guess I’m just concerned,” Phainon mutters, unsure of how exactly to proceed. Maybe he should just get over himself and be straightforward once in his life. Mydei is a sweet, considerate man, what does he really have to lose?
“It’s just… and I know this isn’t really the correct thing to say, but I just—” he inhales sharply. “I just don’t know if I’d ever want to become an omega, not even for you.”
Mydei frowns.
Phainon frowns in response.
Oh no. He’s made things awkward again?
Then, Mydei finally opens his mouth. “And why would you have to become an omega?”
Phainon fidgets, laughing nervously. “Don’t enigmas turn alphas into omegas?”
Mydei drags a hand down his face.
“Gods above. What kind of nonsense… No, of course they do not.”
“Oh. Alright then,” Phainon nods. Even though he’s gotten an answer, he feels even more confused than before.
“But then…” he starts, but his words cease. “Then what do enigmas even do?” He doesn’t know what to think, even less what to feel.
“You poor fool,” Mydei sighs, finally taking pity on him. He steps closer, one of his hands finding its place on Phainon’s thigh. He draws him closer, their faces only a few inches apart as he exhales.
“Let me put this in a way that will make it perfectly clear for you.”
Mydei’s other hand rests on Phainon’s belly, gently caressing the skin in slow circles.
“I cannot make you an omega, Phainon, but I can put a baby in you.”
The words hit Phainon like a train, his whole face turning paper white.
“A b—baby—?” he stammers, eyes darting, unable to meet Mydei’s own. A baby! Out of all the possibilities, Phainon hadn’t thought of that one.
A baby…
“Would you like me to do that?” Mydei asks, lifting Phainon’s chin up. Their eyes meet and Phainon’s trapped under that unrelenting golden stare.
No
There’s only one answer on his mind.
“Yes,” falls from his lips instead.
His eyes snap wide. What the hell did he say? Mydei looks genuinely stunned.
“No! Wait, I didn’t mean it! I don’t know what came over me!” His head is spinning, his knees feel weak and he thinks he is going to throw up. “I— I am so sorry, Mydei, I must have hit my head somewhere—”
Mydei kisses him.
Phainon’s rambling thoughts dissolve, leaving behind a pleasant buzz. What was he stammering about just now? It doesn’t matter, it’s not important. In Mydei’s arms Phainon feels, for the first time, like he’s back home.
“I’ll give you one last chance to leave.” Such terrible words reach Phainon’s ears. He looks at Mydei, fully confused. Leave? Why would he ever do that?
“My pheromones right now are stronger than before. Your mind may already be influenced.”
That sobers Phainon up a bit, dragging him back to the reality. He takes a few small steps back, shaking his head until his thoughts clear.
Right. They were talking about—
A baby.
And him.
And him… with a baby.
Does Phainon truly want a baby? Or does he just want to be with this man?
He takes a good look at the enigma, standing proudly in front of him. Mydei’s aura is commanding, his presence sucking all the air out of the room. If Phainon chooses to be with him, that means accepting a more submissive role. And then, when the time is right… Phainon’s hands fall to his abdomen.
Him and Mydei.
A house and a dog.
A child. Maybe two.
Mydei’s a dominating presence, yes, but he’s also kind and incredibly gentle. He would make a great dad, Phainon’s absolutely sure of it.
“If you need more time...”
“No.”
He needs no more time. Phainon closes his eyes, exhaling. He’s been denying this for far too long, it’s finally time to admit who he is.
“I want it,” Phainon opens his eyes, meeting Mydei’s gaze straight on. “I want you and I want all that comes with you. Even if that makes me completely pathetic.”
Mydei’s expression softens at the words and he steps closer, taking Phainon by the shoulders.
“And why would being with me make you pathetic?” His kind smile makes Phainon melt on the spot.
Grown ass man, he thinks, annoyed, and yet his knees have turned weak. There is a hurricane of butterflies in his gut and his cock is already half hard.
“Can you—” Phainon swallows, biting his lip, as if to stop himself from speaking any further. No, that’s way too shameful to say. There’s no way he is going to ask.
“Can I what?”
Or maybe he will. Maybe he will be shameless for once.
“Can you put a baby in me now?”
Mydei freezes, staring at Phainon wide-eyed. Then, he reanimates all at once.
“Now?!” His voice is highly pitched. “That’s not how it works, Phainon, that’s not how any of this works!”
Phainon can’t help but chuckle at the outburst. The panicked look on Mydei’s face makes all the embarrassment of the world worth it.
“Besides,” the enigma keeps rambling, completely unaware of his surroundings, “we would have to get married first. I would like to give you that assurance. Then we can try for a baby, your body would have to adapt to the change. I don’t know how much you know about this, but—”
He stops himself mid-sentence in realization.
“Alright. Maybe I’m an idiot too. You were obviously just joking.”
And, before Phainon can say anything about it, Mydei draws him in a tight embrace.
“I may not be able to get you pregnant right now, but we can certainly start trying.”
*
Hot breaths mingle together and Phainon isn’t sure where he begins and where he ends. Time as a concept has lost all meaning, flashes of sensations passing through him.
“Open up,” a gentle voice cuts through the haze that he’s been in for what seems like hours. And Phainon does, eagerly so, face buried in the pillows, body loose and pliant. It’s so easy to give in, to stop thinking and simply surrender.
Hot pleasure fills him to his core as Mydei enters him once more. Over and over and over again until he’s drooling into the sheets beneath him.
“No resistance at all.”
Phainon whines.
Maybe he should be more ashamed. He’s an alpha, after all, but Mydei’s cock feels too good as it’s carving its place inside of him. And with every new thrust he finds himself inching closer to the moment of release.
“If you don’t slow down I’m going to—”
“Come,” Mydei groans, sounding winded. He hooks his fingers in Phainon’s mouth and slams himself inside of his aching hole. The alpha howls from the sheer force, his body collapsing into release. He trembles from the intensity of the orgasm, mind blanking out for a second.
“Now you can have a moment to rest.” Mydei’s breath hits his ear. He slows down, yet remains inside, hands cupping Phainon’s sensitive chest. Phainon’s thighs tremble uncontrollably, his breaths uneven as he tries to collect himself. His cock is spent, stirring uselessly between his legs, dripping the last of his seed.
He’s wasted, his muscles ache, protesting, his body pushed beyond its limits. And Mydei? His presence is unrelenting as he rolls his hips against his ass.
“How is this… a moment?” Phainon groans, forcing himself up onto his elbows. He takes a look back at the enigma who smirks at him in response. “Don’t you have a reset period? Is this how it goes with your kind?”
“Yes.” Mydei says as he places a hand flat against Phainon’s upper back. Then, with one powerful shove, he presses him back into the sheets. “Don’t start bitching at me now, I don’t recall allowing you up.”
And Phainon loves it, every bit of it, a tremor of desire shuddering through his body. He wants to give into this feeling fully, wants to follow Mydei’s every command…
“And when will you deem it enough, your highness?”
“When you’re too far gone to speak in full sentences.”
And with that, Mydei takes a hold of his hips and drives in with renewed vigour. Phainon’s mouth falls open in a moan, his cheeks flushing a scarlet shade of red.
The moment of rest is clearly over and he braces himself for a wild ride. He’ll need it, the night is still young, and Mydei’s not planning to let him go.
[Afterword: the grand closure]
There is something awkward about meeting someone’s family for the very first time. It’s even more awkward when that family in question is someone Phainon feels utterly unworthy to face.
“So you’re the one my son wants,” Madam Gorgo looks him up and down. Phainon hopes that whatever she sees, doesn’t disappoint her too badly.
“Interesting.”
Phainon thinks he’s going to melt into the floor from sheer embarrassment. Mydei is not helping at all, standing beside him in perfect silence. Sure, this shouldn’t come as a complete surprise as Phainon was haphazardly introduced as his “I’ll marry this one instead”, but that was a few weeks ago and, like the rest of the world, he didn’t think it was serious.
“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Madam Gorgo’s voice sounds final. Phainon’s brows shoot up. Not surprised? Does that mean she doesn’t hate him?
“You’re big, you’re muscular, you’ve got a pretty face. You’re exactly my son’s type. He thinks he was so sneaky with Hephaestion, but I always knew that was just for show.”
“Right.” Phainon glances at the enigma. Is that a slight blush on the other’s cheeks? So all this time while Mydei thought he had been fooling his mother…
“You’ve also got a tiny waist and wide hips — such a beautiful figure. You’ll be excellent at bearing children, I have to say I’m very pleased.”
The words sink in a second later. Phainon chokes on empty air. Mydei lets out a tired grunt, apparently now that’s a step too far.
“Mother.”
“What?”
“You’re being shameless.”
“Am I?”
Phainon thinks he will die.
“Ah, no,” his voice breaks, coming out less sure than he hoped. “It’s not my… well, what I meant is we aren’t…”
“Oh? So you’re not trying for a baby? From the smell of it, you could have fooled me.”
Phainon turns redder than a boiled lobster, arms hovering awkwardly at his sides.
“And what are you standing there like a rock? From the three of us, you’re the most shameless.” Madam Gorgo turns to Mydei, giving him a pointed look. “Your partner here is fighting for his life and you’re not standing up for him? I swear if you weren’t my own son, I’d give you a good smack.”
“Mother, stop.”
Phainon’s not sure what to think. Gorgo is nothing like he thought she was. Gone is the sharp, composed figure, replaced by this motherly presence.
“How is this remotely my fault when you’re the one making him uncomfortable?”
Phainon feels Mydei’s hand land on his shoulder, grounding, steadying him in the present.
“Who starts talking about babies the moment they’re introduced to someone new?”
Madam Gorgo rolls her eyes and waves Mydei off with a flick of her wrist. Phainon’s head spins; this is not how he imagined anything in this meeting would go.
“And whose fault is that I’m so desperate? You’ve kept me waiting for so long. Can you really blame an old woman for wanting to meet her grandchildren already?”
Phainon is lost in the conversation when suddenly Gorgo grabs his hands. Her lips spread in a wide, warm smile, her eyes sparkling with childish joy.
“But now you’re finally here, my darling,” she grips his fingers with undeniable strength. “You’re such a polite and beautiful alpha, promise to give me those grandchildren soon.”
“Mother!” Mydei’s scandalised tone combined with Gorgo’s warm hands break the tension. Phainon finally sees exactly what kind of a relationship these two share. Teasing her son seems to be one of Gorgo’s greatest joys, so he does what comes naturally to him and leans in, meeting her golden eyes.
“I promise to give you a lot of babies, as many as Mydei can put into me.”
The stunned silence that follows makes him wonder if maybe he took it too far, but the booming laughter moments after confirms that he was right after all.
“Now that’s what I call a promise! You’re hearing this, my lazy son?”
Mydei groans and Phainon can’t help a smile, warmth blooming in his chest.
Seems like he will fit right in. The Kremnoans are just as unhinged as he is.
The end