Chapter Text
Phainon shifts in his chair, the worn leather creaking like a mocking whisper. Regret is already surging through him, reminding him of every foolish choice that dragged him to yet another date, on the other side of the city nonetheless...
He's twenty-seven. Looks good, or so he's told; sharp features, charming, has an outgoing personality that draws people in and a decent office job that keeps his bills paid. All the things point to someone who should have life figured out.
Which means he gets to date around a lot, right? Or so he thought.
“Hey, remember? You never went beyond second base with anyone.” His brain adds unhelpfully, jabbing at his evident lack of experience in the lower department.
It’s not like it’s that weird to be a virgin at the prime age of twenty-seven, right?
Wrong. Apparently, very wrong.
Because almost every girl he tried dating so far backed off the moment they learned he was inexperienced. The ones he doesn't tell upfront? Sadly, they still notice when makeout sessions heat up, when he gets too eager, yet also too inexperienced to know what to do beyond kissing and groping.
And the few who find his lack of experience charming? Cute, even? Those only stick around long enough to peek behind the "charming boy next door" façade.
Be it the overthinking, the awkward humor that fails to make anyone but himself laugh, hobbies like spending an entire weekend playing video games over going outside, or those rare cracks in his confidence… Every single time he lets a glimpse of his true self show, he gets a polite smile, maybe a break-up text if he's lucky enough not to be completely ghosted.
So naturally, over time, Phainon started avoiding dates. Until recently.
Inflation has been skyrocketing recently, and his rent is about to jump by nearly twenty percent upon renewal— his landlady delivered him the news in the most chipper tone possible on a Monday morning, as if it were something good and not a horrible way to start his week. Without a significant other to share the financial burden, it means downgrading to something even tinier than his shoebox-sized apartment, or living in his car.
Phainon is doomed. Utterly.
He has two months left before the lease ends. Two months to figure things out. Suddenly, a stable relationship feels less like a luxury and more like a necessity.
Which brings him to this moment. Phainon does his best to look relaxed on the outside, while inwardly praying to every god he can think of.
Because he really needs this to work…
Iris, the girl who approached him at his co-worker's birthday party and flirted through most of the night before asking him out, waves at him from the entrance, quickly approaching his table. Phainon waves back, forcing his trademark smile— the same smile that got him free drinks in bars, closed deals at work, and even landed a second date once or maybe twice.
“Iris!” He leans forward and waves at her, head tilting playfully. “Are you a parking ticket?”
She pauses, hand gripping the chair she's about to sit on, confusion written all over her face. “What?”
Phainon winks, leaning in further— like he's about to share a big secret with her. “Because you’ve got ‘fine’ written all over you.”
Iris lets out a laugh. It's awkward, high-pitched, and her eyes don't meet his as she sinks into the chair.
“Oh, um… that’s… cute, I guess?” Her tone wavers, like a wilting flower. She sounds unsure at best, weirded out at worst.
“Too much? Thought so. It was worth a shot.” Phainon laughs, ready to brush it off, maybe toss in a smoother line to recover, when the sound of shattering glass cuts his train of thought.
His head turns toward the source of the noise, eyes meeting the barista who is responsible for it. A tall, muscular, and very good-looking barista. Who is staring right in their direction with wide eyes, his shoulders shaking in what looks like a desperate attempt to suppress a laughter.
Phainon stares back. Shamelessly. The barista's hair, or mane to be exact, is blonde for the most part, dyed red as the ends, and tied in a messy half-ponytail that does nothing to tame it. He lets his eyes trail lower. Red tattoos snake up the man’s arms, vanishing into the sleeves of his crisp white polo— a polo that can barely contain the absurdly large arm muscles that flex with every movement as he sweeps shards of broken glass into a dustpan.
If Phainon thinks of himself as handsome —objectively, of course— this man is… is… He can’t even find a word to capture his beauty.
Lethal, maybe.
In a bro way.
“Nothing wrong with appreciating someone’s appearance,” he tells himself. It’s Aesthetic. Purely.
Phainon isn’t into guys to begin with.
His gaze is still locked at the barista, who looks at him again with his beautifully golden eyes, lifting a hand to cover his mouth simultaneously, but a half-muffled snort still escapes him, loud enough to reach Phainon’s and his date’s table.
Chuckling, Phainon seizes the moment to lighten the mood. He nudges his elbow toward the counter where the barista is standing, grinning at the woman in front of him. “See? Someone appreciates my flirting attempts!”
Iris’s smile falters, her gaze turning to the barista and back, landing on Phainon with an unimpressed look. “Yeah… or maybe he just dropped a glass at a bad timing. No way you ever got a positive response over that line.”
Phainon’s laugh dies in his throat, her words are harsh, but he tries not to let it upset him. It’s only the start of the date. Yet, even as they order their drinks and start asking each other questions— the usual interview-like part of a first date and he keeps losing interest in her predictably boring answers and keeps drifting subconsciously back to the barista.
He notices the name tag reading “Mydeimos” when the blonde man turns to place a mug of steaming coffee on the bar. It allows Phainon a better look at his sharp features; there’s a streak of red eyeliner under his left eye, followed by a small matching tattoo underneath, a little braid on the same side, and a long earring on the opposite. The tattoos are symmetrical, running up both his arms and peeking out of the neckline… And don’t even get him started on the man’s obviously built chest.
Phainon finds himself staring a beat too long to be appropriate for a fellow dude. Yet, there’s something calming in watching Mydeimos that he cannot help it. Be it the way he moves, like each step is calculated or the concentrated expression as he pours milk into the mug.
“Just appreciation,” Phainon convinces himself. It’s curiosity, the same impulse that makes people linger in museums over a marble sculpture. Curiosity doesn’t mean anything.
Absolutely nothing more than that.
Sighing under his breath, Phainon returns his attention to Iris, or at the very least, he tries to. It’s proven quite difficult when Mydeimos is moving around with so much grace. Phainon finds himself in a trance when the barista makes the process of pouring a cup of coffee too enticing to look away. He wonders if Mydeimos’ voice is as smooth as his movements, if he’s the type to hum while he works—
“…to watch… next weekend… want to join?”
He shakes his head, mentally, and forces himself to focus on his date. Phainon smiles at her. “Oh, yeah, that sounds—wait, sorry, what?” His mind is still stuck on the barista. Not catching the entire sentence.
“You’re not paying attention...” Iris taps against her mug, the look on her face is one of obvious irritation.
“I am, I swear!” Phainon rubs the back of his neck apologetically, sitting up straighter in his chair.
She is saying something about wanting to watch a movie? What kind of movies would Mydeimos like? Action, maybe? Or something artistic, like historical dramas, to match that absolute calmness he carried?
“Why the fuck does it even matter?” Phainon shakes his head again, visibly this time. Blinking at her.
“Sorry, I’m a bit busy next weekend.”
The woman sighs loudly. “You’ve been zoning out since we got here. I’m not imagining it.” Her eyes narrow, and she lets her eyes trail in the same direction Phainon was staring moments ago, where Mydeimos is now adding whipping cream on top of what is probably hot chocolate. “Or is there someone more interesting than me here?”
Phainon’s stomach twists, heat creeping up his neck. “No, I- I’m just nervous." He forces a laugh, "haven’t been on a date for a while.” He confesses. In his defense, it is true.
“So, what do you usually do on your weekends?” Brilliant, Phainon. Smooth as ever.
Iris studies him for a minute, her expression softening. “Fine. Nothing much really, I either go out with friends or thrift clothes…” She starts talking and Phainon’s gaze drifts back to Mydeimos again: he is wiping down the counter now, and such mundane motion shouldn’t look so hypnotic and graceful.
She catches it this time. “Seriously, Phainon!?”
“What? I’m listening!” Phainon protests, but it’s futile, he’s been caught.
It’s not that he isn’t trying, he really does, but Mydeimos’ presence pulls at him like a magnet in ways he cannot explain. Like seeing a beautiful piece of art that one cannot take their eyes off.
Iris checks her phone before standing abruptly, grabbing her bag with a huff. “I'm sorry. I just remembered I have a deadline to finish tonight. I need to go.” Her smile is forced. “Thanks for the coffee.”
Phainon rises, fumbling for words. “Wait,” She turns to him, “Rose? Lily?” The only name in Phainon’s head is “Mydeimos.”
“Daisy, I—”
“I can’t believe it! You can't even remember my name!” She hisses, walking out before he can say another word. Phainon stands there for a moment longer, shame coloring his face scarlet. He fucked up. Royally. Her name is Iris…
No wonder he never liked flowers.
He pays the bill with defeat, too embarrassed to even look in the direction of Mydeimos— in case the man saw the end of his embarrassing date, and drags himself back home. His phone vibrates several times not even five minutes later, and he grabs it, not sure what to expect.
Iris (date) [16:43]: Ur such an asshole for staring at some dude the whole time.
Iris (date) [16:44]: Don’t message me ever again. Loser.
Phainon stares at the screen in a mix of frustration and disbelief.
Her accusation is an overreaction for sure.
Staring? He wasn’t— well, he did look… But stare!? He’s straight for fucks sake, always has been.
For all his twenty-seven years of life, he liked women, big tits, long hair, pretty eyes... All the stuff men did not have. It was purely to calm himself, he reasons. He was looking at the graceful movements, not even at the guy!
“Mydeimos, not just a guy,” his mind reminds him, traitorous as ever.
Phainon shoves the phone into his back pocket.
Whatever. He’ll figure it out later.
━ ⟡ ━
He does not figure anything out.
If anything, the failed date keeps bothering him more with every hour that passes. During dinner, while he goes for a jog outside to clear his head, even when he tries to speed run the event on his favorite gacha game. It’s not even the girl, he already forgot her name, but the accusation that he was staring inappropriately at a guy.
Because he wasn’t.
Phainon flops onto his old trusted couch, hearing the springs creak weakly under his weight, and grabs his laptop, opening Reddit.
Surely, the masses would be on his side. He quickly makes a new account, just in case, and starts typing:
AITA for looking at the male barista during my first date?
u/33550336
Throwaway acc…
I know how the title sounds but hear me out!
I (27m) was on a date (23f) recently, for context it’s been my first date in ages, so I was really nervous…
We sat at this little cafe, and I was looking around to calm myself down, when I saw the barista, and he was impossibly good looking.
Like LETHAL face card.
Somehow looking at him calmed my nerves, so I did it purely to calm down. I'm not into guys or anything, I swear!
But my date got really upset that I wasn’t looking at her or paying enough attention, again according to her, I did pay attention, most of the time, but the barista moved with so much grace my eyes kept trailing to him...
She ended up sending me a message saying that im an asshole and blocked me.
So, am I really? All I did was appreciate a nice-looking bro.
He clicks on the ‘post’ button and closes the laptop, opting to stare at the ceiling instead. Mydeimos’ face pops into his mind again, but Phainon is too tired to shake it off.
“It’s like admiring a statue, a picture. Nothing more,” he tells the empty room, more to convince himself than anything.
He’s not sure how long he keeps daydreaming about gold eyes and red tattoos, or when he falls asleep on the couch instead of his bed. The only thing he does know is that when he wakes up; it's bright outside and his neck is killing him.
Oh, and there are a few hundred notifications on his phone.
Wait. A few hundred?
He opens the phone, too tired to grab the laptop. His post, the r/ AmItheAsshole about the date, has blown up overnight. Phainon feels nauseous as he opens the app, scrolling through the thread with anticipation.
“Surely, the internet would be on his side…” he repeats, full of hope.
u/SleepDeprivedSince95
YTA. Dude, you spent your date ogling a guy? That's not 'appreciating a nice-looking guy,' that's being rude AF to your date. And let's be real, straight guys don't call another man 'good looking' and stare like that. Sounds like you're in denial about being gay.
Phainon’s thumb hovers over the reply button, his cheeks reddening at the accusation. Denial? He’s not. Absolutely not in denial! He is very much straight!
He scrolls through the other comments before responding, although he really wants to reply to that top comment.
u/SlightlyUsedHuman
Own it, man. Definitely asshole move. If I was on a date and my guy was staring at the barista, I’d block him too. And yeah, gay vibes. NTA if you're figuring out your sexuality, but YTA for wasting her time.
u/HungryKirby
Bro, you date the lady not that man. The amount of gay denial in this post needs to be studied.
u/ChimeraPancakes
YTA “nice-looking guy with a lethal face card”
beeeep! That’s my gaydar going off!!
u/ GachaVictim
Bro you said “I’m not into guys or anything” after describing this barista like a Greek god descending from Olympus. Just admit he unlocked something in you. Better than denying your feelings…
u/HandsomeButLagging
NAH. Honestly, dude, sounds like you were nervous and trying to get your shit together. You didn’t flirt or made comments about the barista, you just spaced out. Yeah, your date probably felt ignored, but it doesn’t sound malicious really. Next time, maybe focus a bit more on whoever you’re with, but this feels more awkward than asshole-y.
Bless ‘Handsome but lagging’. The only one on his side in the myriad of YTA’s.
Phainon spends most of his Saturday morning replying to every comment that got enough upvotes:
“Not gay, just honest. Some people are objectively attractive, doesn’t mean I want to date them.”
“Y’all are reading too much into it.”
“Straight as a ruler, thanks.”
“Not into guys, just calming my nerves.”
“Appreciating aesthetics isn’t the same as attraction.”
“Bless you. At least someone understands! ⊂( ´ ▽ ` )⊃”
He keeps replying to the users, but the more he comments, the more it sounds like he’s fighting a losing battle. Phainon really just thinks Mydeimos has a nice face, nothing more.
Yeah, the guy has a sharp jaw, mesmerizing amber-gold eyes... And yeah, he obviously works out. Phainon remembers the way the white shirt stretched around his muscles yesterday, fabric struggling to contain his broad shoulders and biceps as he moved around. It was impressive, that’s all. Enviable, even.
Why can’t the people on Reddit see it?
Phainon is someone who knows how hard it is to maintain such a physique. He runs in the evenings, keeps his own body toned and fit, but Mydeimos looks like he lives in the gym, like he eats dumbbells for breakfast. Nothing more to it.
Maybe he could use a friend like that. A workout buddy. Someone to motivate him to actually use his gym membership more than twice a year. That makes sense. He wants to be his friend. It’ll be a practical friendship that would benefit them both.
He closes the app after a good hour of reading and replying to comments, tossing his phone to his feet.
It’s not attraction, he tells himself firmly. Just curiosity.
Yeah.
“Just… Curiosity.” He keeps insisting as he’s getting dressed.
“Nothing than admiring a fellow bro.” He reasons as he gets inside his car.
“These comments are stupid.” He convinces himself as he enters the same café he visited yesterday.
The guy at the barista counter is not Mydeimos, but another tall man with long red hair, who looks very busy flirting with a young woman.
Phainon exits the café before anyone notices him.
He visits the next morning, too, only to be met with a female barista this time. Still no Mydeimos. Phainon grabs a coffee to go before leaving, defeated. Perhaps Mydeimos only works part-time, or he keeps missing his shifts.
━ ⟡ ━
Cipher slides in across from him inside the bar booth, dark circles under her eyes, her usually messy grey hair tied in a loose braid. They’ve both survived another brutal week. Phainon, dealing with corporate impossible demands, and Cipher, with her all-over-the-clock police job.
Their little hangout feels like a prize after a week of suffering and grinding “adult life.”
“God, I needed this,” Cipher stretches across the table like a cat, sipping on a pint of beer. She raises her hand to get the attention of a passing waitress, ordering the biggest portion of fries the bar offers before looking at Phainon.
“You look like hell. Worse than me, even.” She comments, taking another big gulp of her beer.
Phainon manages a half-hearted laugh, leaning back once the waitress comes with his drink; an overly sweet cocktail to mask the taste of alcohol, and the fries. “It’s been a long week.” He admits.
“Tell me about it,” Cipher groans, stuffing more fries than should be humanely possible into her mouth, and starts a long monologue about all the “shit I had to deal with.”
Her words, not his.
He listens to his friend’s ramble, sneaking a few fries and sipping on his cocktail in between, amused by the animated storytelling, until Cipher sighs. “And that’s how my hell of a week went. Now, how about you? How’s your ‘get a relationship before my lease ends’ mission been going?”
Phainon should’ve expected the question, but his grin still falters. He laughs nervously and pulls out his phone, scrolling to the Reddit post that is still getting upvotes despite it being a week since he posted anything. “Oh, it went as bad as you can imagine.” He slides the device across the table, groaning. “Read this. It should answer your question.”
Cipher takes the phone, eyes skimming the screen before she snorts. Loudly. Phainon thanks the heavens that she isn’t mid-drinking or else there would be beer everywhere.
AITA for staring at the male barista during my first date?
“You what—?” She tries to hold back her laughing, failing miserably, pausing on every other word to wheeze as she keeps reading.
I know how it sounds but hear me out. I (27m) was on a date (23f) recently, for the record it’s been my first date in ages, so I was really nervous… We sat at this little cafe, and I was looking around to calm myself down, when I saw the barista, and he was impossibly good looking. Like LETHAL face card.
“Oh. My. God. Phainon.” Cipher can no longer hold back her laugh.
Somehow looking at him calmed my nerves, so I did it purely to calm down. I'm not into guys or anything, I swear! But my date got really upset that I wasn’t looking at her or paying enough attention, again according to her, I did pay attention, most of the time, but the barista moved with so much grace my eyes kept trailing to him... She ended up sending me a message saying that im an asshole and blocked me.
So, am I really? All I did was appreciate a nice-looking bro.
“I—Can’t—” she gasps, breathless between fits, her voice loud enough to get a few stares from people around them, and Phainon wants nothing more than to sink lower in his seat and disappear from shame. “Your post is hilarious! You totally dug your own grave there!” She wipes her eyes, still chuckling as she hands the phone back. “Oh my God, ‘lethal face card’? You’re a disaster!”
“I walked right into that, didn’t I?” Phainon snatches the phone, pouting at the chaotic woman. “Look, I tried to focus on her, but…” He trails off, and the memory of Mydeimos comes uninvited. “The barista just… distracted me. I wasn’t doing it on purpose.”
Cipher leans forward, smirking. “Distracted you? Huh... Sounds like you were staring like a lovestruck maiden if your date called you an asshole.” She grabs another fry, pointing it at him in mock accusation. “What’s this guy look like, anyway? Spill the details.”
Phainon chugs his cocktail, quickly ordering another one and a beer for Cipher. He’s too sober for this. And maybe he gets Cipher drunk enough, she won’t remember this conversation. Because if she does? She would roast him about it for the next month, possibly longer.
It’s Cipher he is talking about, the same woman who still reminds him of the one time he drunk-flirted with a store mannequin. Four years ago.
Even with the rush of alcohol in his system, heat still creeps up his neck as he tries to put the man’s appearance into words. “He’s tall, built, like really built, you know? His shirt barely contained his arms.” He explains, unable to look into his friend’s eyes. “Didn’t help that he laughed at my pickup line to the point of dropping the glass he was holding.”
“Pickup line?” Cipher’s eyes widen, and she cackles again. “Oh, I need to hear this one. Might use it on Cas if it’s any good.”
He whines, “You never approve my lines!” Although he still shares it with her. “All I said was ‘Are you a parking ticket? Because you’ve got ‘fine’ written all over you.”
Cipher howls again, nearly spilling her —already half empty— second beer. “That’s the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever heard! No wonder she bailed. And the barista laughed at this? My gaydar says you two are meant for each other.”
She calms down eventually, her grin still wicked as she starts talking again. “You know I love you, Phainon, but ‘Impossibly good looking’ and ‘lethal’ are strong words for a straight guy. You sure it’s not a crush by accident?”
“I’m sure,” he snaps, a bit too quickly. “Can’t appreciate a fellow bro anymore?” He crosses his arms defensively. “I think he’d be a good workout buddy, that’s all.”
Cipher snorts, unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Sure, ‘workout buddy.’ Whatever makes you sleep better at night.” She leans back, studying him. “Takes one to know one. Castorice would agree too if she was here.”
“Girl… I’m not into guys.” Phainon sighs, knowing there’s no convincing her. Cipher is pure chaos like this… She will keep teasing him mercilessly until he either agrees with her claim or diverts her attention to something more interesting. “Anyway. I’m out of options again. Might as well start looking for a new place,” He groans loudly, sipping on his second drink.
Tapping her chin, looking like she is contemplating something for a good minute, Cipher’s eyes widen with what looks like an idea.
It’s never a good sign.
“You know, I think I have the perfect solution!” Her tone becomes more serious, and Phainon, who has nothing to lose at this point, gestures her to keep talking as he shoves the last of the fries in his mouth.
“So, you know how Cas asked me to move in with her, and how I chickened out and renewed my lease last month, right?”
Phainon nods. “Right.”
“And how breaking it would be too expensive and rude to my roommate, right?” She adds.
“Yeah.”
“How about...” Cipher pauses, looking at him with a sly smile. “You take over my lease. Sublet it from me or whatever. The rent is lower than yours, the place is big, and I have the best roommate ever!” She counts the pros on her fingers “He’s clean, quiet, respectful, and mostly sticks to his room so it's almost like living alone!”
He blinks at her. The offer is too good to be true. “And the cons?”
Cipher gives him an offended look “You hurt me, boy. I’d never make such an offer if there were cons.” She brings a hand to her heart, feigning betrayal. Maybe it is genuine this time.
“Are you sure Castorice would be ok with you changing your mind?” He asks, not wanting to get his hopes up. Not yet.
“Please! Princess homebody been moping about it hinting how I should find someone to take over my half. It’s a win-win for us both!”
A room in a bigger apartment, half of the bills, lower rent, perfect-sounding roommate… “That’s, damn. That’s tempting. Are you sure it’s something you can do, though?”
“I’ll talk to the landlord on Monday, and then with Cas and my roommate, so, hmm.” She pauses for a moment. “I can give you a more certain answer by next weekend,” Cipher offers.
Phainon nods happily, mood instantly lifting. He won’t need to pressure himself to find a girlfriend— he does want a serious relationship but not to force himself into one for the sake of his living comfort, and he gets an upgrade while saving money. It’s the best outcome ever. “Deal. This could save my ass. Thanks, Cipher.”
“You’re acting like a dog who got a treat now” she teases, finishing her beer. “Don’t wag your tail yet. I still need to do some talking.” She says, and Phainon rolls his eyes. He’s not a dog.
They stay for another round of drinks and snacks, Phainon’s treat. A small thanks for the offer, even if it doesn’t fall through at the end. Cipher fills him in on Castorice’s latest art project, and her success at the latest con, and Phainon cries how he had to miss two cons in a row because of work, or in his words: “Ugh. Adult life.”
He enjoys the chat, the laughs, the pleasant buzz from the alcohol, that he almost forgets about the whole Reddit disaster. But as they part ways a little past midnight, Phainon checks his notifications again on his walk home. The comments are still about the same a week later; most of them deeming him the asshole, and claiming he’s having a crush.
He isn’t. Mydeimos’ face flashes again in the back of his mind, and he shoves the thought down, it’s not like he would ever see the guy again after two failed attempts to revisit the café and befriend him.
The rest of his week passes in the same way, he refuses to keep thinking about the guy, busies himself with his deadlines, and by Thursday afternoon, Cipher calls him with an update, exclaiming happily that even her roommate is surprisingly cool with the idea. Castorice messages him a “thank you” later that night as well.
It is a two-birds-with-one-stone situation; he gets his housing problem solved, and his two dear friends get to finally live together. Perfect.
━ ⟡ ━
The first person he tells the good news about fixing his living arrangements is Cyrene, his older sister. He travels to her over a free weekend, taking her out for dinner.
Cyrene always picks restaurants with overpriced desserts and fancy drinks, and tonight is no different. Phainon watches her take a bite of a patisserie with a satisfied hum, then another one, and another.
“So?” she prompts after half the thing is gone. “You look suspiciously pleased with yourself. Did you finally get promoted, or, wait, don’t tell me—” she pauses to add a dramatic effect. “My little brother finally passed the third date without being dumped?”
Phainon pouts at her, exaggerated and dramatic. “You’re evil. It’s not about work or dating.” Before adding quietly, “Let’s not talk about the dating part.” He leans back with a sigh, remembering his disastrous date and Mydeimos. He really needs to stop thinking about that barista.
“I fixed my housing problem.”
“Fixed?” Cyrene arches a brow, taking another bite of her dessert. “Last time we spoke, your rent was about to increase and bleed you dry.”
“Not anymore.” He grins, raising his hand in a V sign. “Cipher offered me her lease. She’s moving in with her girlfriend, and her place is bigger and cheaper. I even get a roommate who Cipher can vouch for being a quiet and responsible one.”
“I don’t know Phai,” Cyrene hums. “Sounds too good to be true.”
“I know, I thought so too at first.” Phainon shrugs. “But at this point, I’ll take anything that isn’t smaller than my already tiny apartment or cost a fortune.”
Her expression softens and she reaches for her glass of white wine, swirling it. “That’s good, Phai! I was starting to worry you’ll move to live in your car, or crash on my couch for eternity and work from home,” she laughs, adding, “You sure about the roommate though? Cipher’s definition of quiet might be different from yours…”
He groans. “I’ll take it even if he’s a little weird or loud. The bottom line is simple. I get cheaper rent, Cipher gets to move in with Castorice, a true win-win.”
“That actually sounds… responsible,” she admits. “Look at you, being a functioning adult.” And before he can say anything, she adds with a wink, “Just don’t fall for that roommate.”
“Why would I—” He kicks her under the table. “Don’t jinx it. I’ll be fine though. New place, new start. What could go wrong?”
Cyrene raises her glass, smirking at him. “Famous last words.”
━ ⟡ ━
The next month and a half stretch out. Between working and packing his belongings he forgets about the handsome barista almost completely, and by the time he’s ready to move, he only remembers that the guy's name starts with M. Or was it N?
“Better this way” Phainon tells himself. Once he moves out, he can go back to dating, and maybe… Maybe the new place would bring him better luck too, and he could get laid for once… He hopes his roommate wouldn’t mind if he brings women over.
And on a Saturday morning, a day before his lease ends, Phainon packs all his small belongings into his car and makes his way to Cipher’s place, with the movers in tow.
“Ready to meet your new home?” Both Cipher and Castorice greet him at the building entrance, and he doesn’t miss the lavender-haired girl's possessive grip on her partner. Cute.
“Thank you again, Phainon. I'm sure you and Mydei would get along!” Castorice chirps and grabs the suitcase from his hands.
“Mydei?” Phainon asks, the name scratches a familiar memory he can’t quite remember. It almost feels like he heard the name before.
“Your new roommate. He’s out at the moment but he should be home soon.” Cipher says, guiding the movers who are holding his mattress to the correct room.
Phainon steps into the living room, dropping a box on the coffee table. The place is cozy, much bigger than his apartment, like Cipher said. There’s a fancy looking couch right in front of him, a big kitchen to the right, and even a small balcony.
He suddenly feels like his landlady was ripping him off all these years.
The girls stay around to help him unpack, and they are almost done with the boxes in the living room when he hears the front door open. Eager to leave a good first impression, Phainon turns around to greet his new roommate.
And freezes in place, air leaving his lungs.
Semi-long blonde hair, dyed red at the tips. Sharp golden eyes. Chiseled jaw. A tank top that barely hides the man’s very muscular body… Recognition hits him like lightning.
Phainon is looking at the most handsome man he’d ever seen in his life.
Again.
Phainon’s stomach drops “Cipher!” He whisper-shouts, reaching her for attention. “It’s him. The guy— from the date.”
He’s too shocked to hear Cipher hollering in laughter, and from the way Mydeimos, or Mydei as Castorice called him, stares back at him, he’s probably just as shocked.
YTA and probably gay.
“So, I assume no introductions are necessary?” Castorice laughs alongside her girlfriend.
Fuck.