Work Text:
Ever since his belly has started to show, Mydei notices the lack of… something, in their relationship.
Phainon had been more excited than he was when they first learnt of the pregnancy, grabbing Mydei by the shoulders and shaking him around. He had peppered Mydei with kisses until Hyacine kicked them out of her clinic and slammed the door shut on them, and carried Mydei back to their home without a hint of shame.
They had sex right that day, Phainon worshipping every inch of his body with fervent desire. Mydei had woken up sore but refreshed, with Phainon pampering him while he's still in bed.
Just a few months after that… it's all been dull.
Mydei doesn't wear much in general, but his belly has started to make it difficult to buckle up his pants. Aglaea had helped him create a few garments that would fit his changing body as the time goes by, loose robes that only fasten right beneath his belly. His upper half is now covered up by loose chiffon, with his chest more prominent and aching. The material is soft enough to be comfortable against his tender nipples; it hangs down to his ankles, over bare legs instead of golden metal.
Going out to the markets attracts him a lot of attention, from those who'd give them their congratulations while handing him free goods like money does not need to be earned. Phainon had complained about letting Mydei out dressed in such a manner, plastered to Mydei's back and fondling with his belly with his large hands.
"I refuse to be cooped up in here," Mydei had huffed, but agreed to letting Phainon follow along for their grocery trips. Which had led to the market ladies tormenting Phainon instead, telling him what to do and not to do for his pregnant wife and how he should be carrying the bags for whatever Mydei craves.
So, for the past five months, it had been going well. Other than the sex aspect of their relationship.
If it weren't for the amorous gushing and ogling on Phainon's part, Mydei might have thought that Phainon was just not attracted to his current figure. The feeling of Phainon's eyes on him rarely fades away, and he knows that the current garments have been chipping away at Phainon's sanity with its deceptive layers. The lingering touches and oppressive kisses never go any further than just that, and it's starting to drive Mydei up the wall.
"What is it? Am I not hot enough?" Mydei ends up at his last resort—complaining to Hyacine.
The Twilight Courtyard is quite empty at this time of the day, Hyacine choosing to spend her time preparing more medicine. Mydei came to her in a guise of a checkup—he's feeling just fine, he just wants to complain to someone who doesn't intend on spreading his business across half of Amphoreus.
"Phainon likes you just fine, Mydei," Hyacine sighs. "Have you considered speaking to him about it instead of me?"
Mydei has thought of that… and rejected it all in one go. Asking Phainon to have sex with him is like walking into a lion's den—he's made that mistake quite a few times, and it landed him in his current situation. Besides, he doesn't want to pressure his husband into sleeping with him if he truly not comfortable with it, considering how Phainon doesn't seem to understand how to say "no" to him.
"Let's choose a different approach," Mydei says.
"This isn't really a group project. I don't need to know about your sex life to help you through your pregnancy."
Mydei clicks his tongue. "C'mon, isn't this a symptom? It's either sex or sparring, and you've barred me from the latter months ago."
Hyacine closes her eyes. She turns to face the wall, holding the stone mortar in her hand as she grinds the herbs. There is no noise in the clinic, besides the milling of the leaves between the granite.
"…Are you seriously giving me the silent treatment right now."
"Is it working? I hope it's working."
"Hyacine," Mydei groans, slumping on the bed, "I need some help here."
"No, you don't. You're just too stubborn to talk to him, which is an internal issue I cannot assist you with." Hyacine stands up and places the bowl down, hands on her hips as she glares at him. "Tell Phainon you want to have sex, and he'll oblige. If you need a pamphlet, take it from the reception desk."
Mydei is stubborn, which is why he's not getting up despite her complaints. "You said I was always welcome. I'm not feeling very welcomed."
"That was before you decided to complain about your husband not sticking his dick into you." Hyacine grabs him by the arm and lifts him to his feet—she's terrifyingly strong when she wants to be. "Out you go! No more sharing about your sex life in my clinic!"
"But my—"
The door closes on him. "Nope!"
So, that's his first step shut down. If Mydei were any less prideful, he might give in and do something stupid, like actually converse with Phainon about his current predicament.
Instead, he persists. His next target is simple—goading Phainon into a stupid argument that makes him feel the need to fuck Mydei.
In Mydei's opinion, it's genius. If he were to share it with anyone else, they might not share the same sentiment, but that's not his problem. He knows Phainon well enough to pick out what riles him up—and what makes him whip out his dick on instinct, apparently.
Which is why Mydei is at the training grounds of Okhema right as the Action Hour ticks in. He knows Phainon will pass by the hall after his daily trip to the Garden of Life, and seeing Mydei in maternity wear on combat grounds will instantly send him into a spiral.
Of course, the soldiers themselves would never dare to spar him—if Phainon's earlier threats weren't enough to convince them, the sight of Mydei's obvious belly would certainly deter them. Still, Mydei sits in during their training, sharp eyes narrowed on every move they make, every hidden mistake, wishing that he's able to get to his feet and do it himself.
He's caught up in the moment when Phainon does arrive, basically taking over the instructor's lessons and harshly criticising any failed step, ignoring the flustered looks directed at his clothing. Mydei is pacing around when a hand grabs him by the waist, pulling him towards a warm body too boldly for anyone but Phainon.
"You should be in bed." His husband's voice is low, annoyance laced under it. "What happened to wanting to sleep in?"
"I changed my mind," Mydei hums, trying to slip out of Phainon's hold. The attempt fails in its action, of course, but its intention certainly succeeds in sparking a flame beneath Phainon.
Before he can continue his rant about proper posture, arms slip beneath his knees, the fabric bunching uncomfortably around his back. Mydei's feet are lifted from the floor without a hitch, Phainon pulling him into a bridal carry.
"Your impromptu class is over. Sorry for the intrusion!" Phainon nods towards the confused instructor, a painted grin on his face too forced to be natural.
Mydei hisses under his breath, trying to wriggle out of Phainon's arms. "Put me down!"
"Your ankles are swelling up again." Phainon carries him like he's holding down a scrambling chimaera at the vet, biceps flexing as he walks out of the training hall. "If you were going to come out, you should put on more clothes."
"I'm wearing plenty." Mydei finally gives in—only because his ankles are slightly sore from all the walking. There's sweat beading on his face and his breaths are heavier than usual, the comfort of being able to rest his feet despite being outside. "More than I'd normally wear, one might even say."
Phainon scowls down at him while walking them towards their quarters, leaving Mydei achingly-hot at the unimpressed glare. "That robe barely hides your nipples when you're sweating this much."
"Stop looking at them, then."
"I'm going to stop acknowledging your nonsense now."
Mydei decides that the best course of action would be to jab Phainon right where his own nipple is. There's a yelp and nails digging into Mydei's arm, which only causes Mydei to fuss even further as they—just Phainon, really— stumble their way back home.
"You look like a fool. The Deliverer can't even carry his pregnant spouse properly?"
"Propriety is hard to follow when my spouse is acting like a spoiled brat," Phainon snarks back. "Do I need to lock you in your room?"
Mydei closes his eyes; the looks that they're receiving from the passersby brushing over them. "The window's always available."
"I hope you realise you've given me more stress than anything else I've experienced." Phainon walks up the flights of stairs with ease, despite having a grown man in his arms and a bag of groceries slung over one shoulder. Mydei, away from prying eyes, now relaxes into Phainon's hold.
He doesn't notice when he dozes off, blinking sleep out of his eyes to see the inside of his house, his back sinking into the comfort of their kline. Mydei sits up to see Phainon in the kitchen, his coat thrown aside to expose his large arms as he chops up some fruit. Pale hair falls over his eyes messily, the golden ring that cuts through his collarbones flashing under the light.
Mydei is quickly reminded of the reason for all of this. His cunt pulses beneath his clothes as he watches Phainon work, drool pooling in his mouth.
The first thing that escapes his mouth is mindless, lust-blown. "You look like a wet dog."
"Thank you, dear. I hope you'll remember that while I'm feeding you apples."
Mydei doesn't want apples. He wants Phainon to stick his dick into him.
"Mh, I want peaches," Mydei says as he looks around for Fig Stew.
"You said you wanted apples last night."
Mydei doesn't even remember that, but any opportunity to get Phainon riled up is one he'll grab. "I changed my mind."
Phainon looks up at him to roll his eyes, bringing the bowl of fruit along with him anyway. Fig Stew comes rushing forward at the sound of snacks, sitting beside Phainon when he crouches beside the sofa.
"You should still eat something, after that stunt you decided to pull. Open up, it's not all going to the chimaeras." Phainon holds the white flesh to his lips, sweet juice seeping down Phainon's fingers.
Mydei doesn't think he can get any hornier than this, and the fact that Phainon doesn't notice that he's flushed and staring at Phainon's biceps is making him lose it. Does he really have to present himself like a cat in heat for Phainon to get a hint? There's the voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Hyacine telling him to just talk it out, which Mydei decides to push out.
The robe he's wearing is unravelling from the waist, his chest slightly exposed and the bottoms riding up. Mydei squirms as he opens his mouth and lets Phainon push in the chunk of apple, eyes fixed on Phainon's when he licks the sticky juice from Phainon's fingers.
It's sweet on his tongue, but the warmth that presses down is much more delicious than anything he's tasted. Phainon doesn't try to remove his finger either—he watches Mydei with lidded eyes as his fingers push down Mydei's throat, sinking into wet warmth without a hint of shame.
Mydei shudders when Phainon hits the back of his throat. "You look so needy like this, sweet wife. Do I not pamper you enough?"
Mydei would choose to say no, if it means getting Phainon to keep on touching him. He leans forward, chiffon falling off his shoulder as he flicks his tongue over Phainon's fingertip.
Phainon's gaze wavers, dipping down to Mydei's chest and reddened nipples. They're fatter now, weighed down by his body's production of milk.
Mydei presses against the kline, his breast getting squeezed against the mattress in a way that irritates the flesh. He pulls Phainon's hand away from his mouth by the waist, huffing and looking away with a pout. "If you need to ask, you already know the answer." His hips shift uncomfortably, waiting and anticipating, but Phainon's hand doesn't stray any lower than his face.
"Do I? I think I've been spoiling you pretty well." Phainon picks up another piece of fruit, holding it to Mydei's mouth.
Useless man. Mydei scowls at him, ready to tear off both of their clothes and ride that cock himself—if it weren't for his sore feet and the reluctance to move off the sofa. He can't tell if Phainon is teasing him or truly a fool, and it's driving him up the wall.
"Phainon." The apple is forced into his mouth the very next second.
"Yes, dear?"
The glower Mydei is giving him does nothing to sway Phainon's expression—is what he thinks, until he sees the slightest waver of Phainon's lips. The flit of his eyes down to Mydei's covered crotch beneath his belly, though he reaches out to caress the bump sweetly.
Phainon's a scheming pervert, Mydei decides, and he wonders if it's worth not getting laid to put it down a notch or two. But his pussy throbs when Phainon kisses him on the cheek, hand moving up to massage Mydei's aching breasts.
"Are you feeling alright?" Phainon's breath burns against his ear, the touch more salacious than comforting. "You should sit up properly."
And make sure he feels the amount of wetness between his thighs. Mydei nearly leans over and kisses Phainon stupid, brain going on overdrive at how horny he is. Phainon completely ignores his damn wife's blatant desperation to feed a chimaera apple cubes instead. Ridiculous.
"You're getting distracted, Mydei. Do you want to go to bed?"
Mydei is definitely not the distracted one, and he certainly wants to be in bed if it means he can convince Phainon to fuck him. "Carry me there."
Phainon sighs, getting to his feet to clean up the dishes. Fig Stew follows Phainon without a hitch, that traitor, while Mydei is left staring at the ceiling with spite.
It's normal for Mydei to be found napping at inopportune moments, and pregnancy doesn't help with the urges to shut his eyes and take a quick rest in the middle of the day, even if he isn't really too tired. He only jumps to attention when Phainon lifts him from the kline, eyes blinking open to his husband smiling down at him.
"Forgot about your little plan, dear?"
Mydei stares up at him in a daze. Phainon is holding him in that princess carry again, except this time he's groping Mydei's ass with another arm supporting his back. His fingers are pushed up against his pussy, against the dampness of his underwear, beneath his robes. Phainon could try to shove his fingers in right now, with how thin the fabrics are, and Mydei would beg for him to do so.
"What—are you talking about?" Mydei puts a hand over his bump, stumbling over his words as he tries not to gasp. "You're being a scoundrel again."
"And you're being a brat instead of admitting to me what you want." The bed is cool and soft when he lands on it, untouched since Mydei chose to escape the house in the morning.
As expected, Phainon knows of his wants. Which infuriates Mydei all the more, because Phainon should be a good husband and respond to them promptly instead of teasing him with fruits and his attention to Fig Stew. Squeezing his thighs together, Mydei crosses his arms and looks away.
"I'm going to sleep."
"You sure you don't want to change first?" Phainon laughs, hand slipping beneath the ruched skirt to tug at his panties.
Mydei nearly whines, hips rocking forward at the gentle touch. "Take them off, then."
"I'm going to suspect that you want something else from me if you keep spreading your legs like this." He pulls off the underwear, holding it up with a finger. "You look like you came in them—though I know you couldn't be bothered to touch yourself when I'm around for you to order around."
Phainon is spot-on—Mydei hasn't masturbated since Phainon has shown his interest, because that man is a horny dog the moment he's given the freedom. He's never had to ask because Phainon has a higher libido than he does. He shouldn't have to ask, what's his husband for if not to read his mind?
"Stop sniffing my underwear and do something useful already." Phainon can dig through his laundry on another day, when Mydei isn't laid down and wanting in front of him.
Phainon grins. "Tell me properly. Say that you need it."
The robe is untied at the waist, soft chiffon spread around him with his body bared. Mydei sucks in a breath as Phainon's eyes trail down his body, red ink stretched down his body and the curves from his pregnancy taking its toll. As expected, Phainon only seems more entranced by him, even without his visible muscles.
"Touch me, Phainon." It wasn't begging, Mydei would say, but his mind betrays him slowly. He wants to arch into Phainon's hands. Wants to grab Phainon by the hand and rut into his palm.
Phainon leans down to kiss him, soft, innocent, and everything Mydei doesn't currently need. "You're so cute like this. My pretty wife, carrying my child."
Before Mydei can respond to that, two fingers slip between his legs and into his cunt. It's been months since he's been touched down there—Mydei groans and clenches around Phainon, fingers digging into the pillow above him.
"Hey, watch it—" Mydei cuts off with a whimper, warmth dragging against his walls and trying to sink further. "Ah, you're so mean to your wife, you know."
"Yeah? What did I do?" Phainon dips his head down, his breath tickling Mydei's cunt.
Mydei thinks it isn't fair at all, that Phainon expects him to think when he has his mouth all over Mydei's pussy. Tongue sliding through his folds, nosing against his engorged clit, fingers still moving inside him and trying to break him apart. Mydei wants to bury his face into the pillow, to muffle his moans and sobs, but his belly makes it impossible to try and turn around.
His ankles hook around Phainon's neck, blinking tears back as he finally feels that red-hot pleasure he's been aching for. Mind going numb as he lets Phainon have his way with his cunt, pleasuring Mydei however he likes.
"I take care of my darling wife all day, and he insists that I'm mean." Phainon mumbles against him, tongue laving over Mydei's clit. "You won't even tell me why—maybe you'll forget about it after you squirt all over my face like you always do."
There's pressure against the softness flesh of his insides, drilling into him and making Mydei flinch and moan, vision going hazy as Phainon sucks.
Everything goes blank; Mydei shudders and shuts his eyes, thoughts slipping away from him. His thighs trap Phainon between them, dragging him close to feel the warmth of his husband against him.
A hand lands on his knee. "As much as I would enjoy going out between your legs, I'd like to live to see our child first."
"Shut up. Take your dick out." Mydei's legs fall lax onto the bed, breath still heavy and ragged. "You've made me wait long enough."
"You know you could have told me you wanted sex, right?" Phainon sits up—there's wetness all over his face, and Mydei cringes at the embarrassing sight. "You didn't seem interested in it the first couple of months, so I waited for you to be more comfortable with your body."
"You knew damn well I wanted you to fuck me," Mydei grumbles, refusing to believe any more of Phainon's sly words.
Phainon gets off the bed to shimmy out of his pants, the bulge straining against the constraints of thick fabric. "That doesn't change the fact you can tell me about it."
Mydei wonders if Hyacine somehow decided to speak to Phainon. Then, he remembers exactly the kind of person Phainon is, and that Hyacine would do anything possible to avoid listening to any more of their relationship than she already has to.
"No," Mydei decides. He can't be bothered to elaborate further when Phainon has his cock out.
Phainon sighs. "I don't even know why I try. Shuffle up, dear."
Turning to his side, Mydei lets Phainon move him about as he likes, giving Phainon the room to settle behind him. He keeps his arm over his belly, stifling a loud yawn. It's not as uncomfortable to lay on his side as it was in the first few months, as he gets more used to the tenderness and occasional nausea.
"You're so slow," Mydei mutters when Phainon's cock is still not in him. "Was four months long enough for you to forget how to use your dick?"
"Unlike you, I have the capability to jerk off," Phainon shoots back. "Should have fucked you in your sleep if I knew how desperate you were for it."
With Mydei's thighs pressed together, Phainon presses his cock into the tight heat. Precum taints his slick-sticky skin, rubbing up against the folds and brushing over his clit. Mydei huffs, lifting his leg to get Phainon to enter his cunt instead, hand reaching down despite his reluctance to move.
"Did you forget which hole to stick it into?" Mydei reaches down to fondle the head of Phainon's cock, leaking into his palm. Desire burns deep as he moves Phainon towards his entrance, the tip slipping in easily from the mess created.
"Hard to when you've been shoving your pussy into my face." Phainon thrusts his hips, an arm reaching over to hold the underside of Mydei's belly. "You haven't even gotten our first child out and you already want another?"
The stretch of Phainon's cock aches deliciously, bullying its way into Mydei. Weeks of waiting finally answered; Mydei moans, loud and unrestrained, melting into the sheets.
"Don't say—such ridiculous stuff." Phainon is kissing down his nape, nails scratching down the lines of the red marks of Mydei's body. Thumb pressed against his tenth thoracic vertebra, its importance now rendered unneeded.
Phainon fucks him slowly, caressing his belly and peppering him with kisses all the while. "Not too ridiculous. Don't you want to have another baby with me?"
Warmth chokes him like a climbing vine, Phainon's voice dark and alluring and much too tempting to fall into. Mydei shivers and grips Phainon's arm, canting his hips back into Phainon's thrusts.
"How impatient. Can't you wait for this one first?" Another yawn escapes him as he speaks, his blinks heavy on the eyelids.
Phainon's hand slides down, to flick at his sensitive clit. "I'm pretty sure I was, but you ended up whining about it."
Mydei can't come up with a snarky response—Phainon's cock slams into him, knocking the thoughts out of him. Squirming at the increasing pace, Phainon holds him down, leaning over to kiss Mydei on the shoulder.
"My sweet wife," Phainon sighs, "do you want to come?"
Such a foolish question that needs no response, yet it makes Mydei groan and nod mindlessly. He'd do anything to get Phainon to drop that pretence, to stop the teasing when Mydei has already conceded.
"Husband, please…" Mydei chokes out, tilting his head to the side to expose his neck.
Instantly, he feels Phainon bury himself in the space, a soft whine escaping him. How easy. His husband is really too simple, a single word from Mydei able to bring him to his knees.
"Titans, you're so—" Phainon's teeth graze his skin, reaching down to grab at Mydei's thighs. "You drive me insane."
His leg is lifted higher for Phainon's access, the slapping on wet skin filthy in the room. The familiar burn of an impeding orgasm rocks Mydei's vision, insides strikingly-hot, numbing all his senses other than Phainon.
Legs trembling and mind slipping, he can only hold onto the sensation that is Phainon when he finally spills once again.
It's all painfully sensitive, from his abused cunt to the rubbing of his body against the bed, Mydei notices. He's still out of it when Phainon finally comes in him, fluids dripping onto his thighs. There's the warmth of Phainon's fleeting kisses and his hands massaging the sore areas of his body, lulling him into the haze of sleep.
"Mydei, we should wash up first," Phainon murmurs into his ear, hands cupping Mydei's chest.
"You do it."
The sheets are soaked and impossible to feel comfortable on with the way they're cooling, Mydei thinks in annoyance. He reaches behind him to jab Phainon in the stomach, listening to him yelp with his eyes closed.
"Now."
"Yes sir!"