a coat of gold

by sugilite

Summary:

The boat docks a few feet away from what seems to be a blonde man. Now that he's closer, Phainon can see the vibrant red marks on the man's body. Stretching from the dips of his collarbones, down the muscular expanse of his abs, to his thick thighs—very, very bare thighs.

"Uh, sir? Are you a visitor? You shouldn't be out here dressed like this."

Phainon finds a man on the shore of Aedes Elysiae. He falls fast and hard.

This small beach of Aedes Elysiae is particularly isolated, compared to the beautiful expanses of sand and palm trees on the other side of the village that tourists would go to. There's nothing much to this side of the sea, besides a healthy amount of fish and some space for farmland.

Phainon was eighteen when he left his home to live in a cottage at that beach, telling his parents that he wants to explore different aspects of their village life. It's not common for the people in his hometown to make a living off fishing, despite the occasional trips his family or their neighbours take to catch a week's worth of dinner. Father says that it'd be hard work to bring enough fresh fish to the market everyday with the long trip, and having to set out before dawn is not an effort most of the older villagers are willing to make. Still, they don't protest when Phainon makes his decision to move to the seaside, with the lofty promise of forging his own path.

Nearly five years later, he continues to live by the shore of Aedes Elysiae. He travels back to the village once or twice a week, selling off the fresh fish he would manage to catch before dawn. Phainon lives a modest life—he makes just enough to sustain himself, and brings enough produce home to feed a family of four. The older vendors at the market would coo at him like he were still twelve, telling him how well he was doing and shoving extra fruits or herbs into his grocery bags.

"You're the first person in years to choose fishing as a lifestyle in Aedes Elysiae, boy," Kallisto, the owner of the fruit orchard, said. "Now, I can barely remember when seafood was a luxury! Take these apples back to your family, and you can come back to grab some more before you head home!"

Phainon learnt long ago that saying no would lead to more chaos than necessary for this bustling street they're on. He laughs and waves her off while packing up his stall, the rising sun shining down on his sweaty skin while the last of the Entry Hour ticks away. There's never much left after a day of selling his catch, but he'll always save some to bring to his family before returning home.

It's a long travel to and fro, but Phainon is agreeable to this choice of lifestyle. He likes seeing his family and friends at the village and helping out as they need, but the comfort of the isolation by the sea is a peaceful existence. Besides the passers-by from the village and a few curious tourists, Phainon doesn't meet much people out here. When he was younger, Phainon couldn't stand being alone for long, always hounding his parents out in the field, or the daughter of the priest who lives a few miles away from their farm. When his father were to leave the village for a few days at a time, Phainon would insist on following along while throwing a fit.

Such days are long past now, as maturity sets in. He's been taught from a young age to help his neighbours in need, as part of a community. Still, Phainon likes the peace of the seaside, with nothing but the crowing of birds and splashing of waves to accompany him. Most of his days are spent in his small cottage, working on small projects around his house or practising his cooking skills. He takes the time to travel out of Aedes Elysiae whenever he can, exploring new villages and towns.

Today, he intends to drop by his parents' house for lunch, and return home before the Parting Hour. With the abundance of the Month of Everday upon them, there's sure to be chores that needs to be done around the farm. Phainon trudges down the path towards the golden wheat, a cart lugged behind him effortlessly with large sacks and crates.

Passing by familiar faces delays his route as he stops to greet them, conversations turning to gossip about other neighbours or visitors from afar. Phainon doesn't keep up with the news often, besides the seasonal changes of produce. He nods and laughs along, keeping a smile on his face before he takes the opportunity to go on his way.

His parents live to a more isolated side of the village, to accommodate for the large wheat field they own. Phainon used to complain about the long trek whenever he was sent to the store by himself, with nothing but Snowy, the family dog, to accompany him.

Sweat drenches his shirt when he finally makes it to the yard, hauling the cart by the side of the door. "I'm back!" Phainon yells through the open window, slinging a bag of fruits over his shoulder.

The usual sounds of his parents' bickering doesn't come through, but the oven in the kitchen seems to be running. Phainon heads towards the door, fiddling for his keys only to find it already unlocked.

"Mom? I've brought back groceries!" Phainon leaves everything on the counter, looking around for any presence in the house.

A sigh echoes from the living room. "I've taught you better than to yell when there are guests over, boy."

Audata has an apron tied over his waist, hair tied up in a bun. She's clearly not dressed for any sort of guests, except…

"Cyrene's back from Okhema?" he asks, walking across the kitchen. Phainon gets no less than two steps in before he's dragged backwards by the collar.

"Go bring in the rest of the fish before running off, unless you don't want lunch." The scent of baking bread draws Audata to check on the oven. "Here I thought you'd be more mature after you left my house."

"Mom!" Phainon groans, as he hears Cyrene's giggling from afar. His back is already aching after all that work in the morning. Unfortunately, his father doesn't seem to be around, so Phainon lugs himself back out of the house to pick up the rest of the groceries.

The fish and vegetables goes into the ice box—Phainon arranges the food as neatly as he can, even though he knows that his mother will always complain about how he ruins her organisation. He leaves the fruits out on the empty platter, washing his hands before making his way towards the living room.

Cyrene's pastel pink hair catches his eye the moment he enters the room. She's been living at Okhema ever since she turned of age, studying literature in the large school at the capital. With the distance between the two locations, she doesn't get to visit as often as Phainon does, which ends up with Phainon dropping by to her parents' house on occasion whenever they need some help.

"I didn't know you'd be back today," Phainon says, dropping onto one of the seats. The cool varnished wood presses against his back, a saving grace compared to the heat from standing outside for hours. Snowy perks up from Cyrene's side, scampering towards Phainon with a sharp bark. "What, you can't afford to help me out even though you're here?"

"You'd make a pretty girl like me stand under the sun?" Cyrene sighs forlornly, shaking her head in disapproval. "This is why you're always by yourself with all that sand and fish."

It's the same complaint as always—Cyrene thinks that he's lonely in his cottage and tries to get him to join her in the capital of Okhema. Her concern is appreciated, but Phainon swears that he's content without the company. The last time he went to Okhema to visit her, it ended up with her trying to keep him there by introducing him to her friends in an attempt to pair him up with someone.

Phainon decides that the last thing he'll do is move to the big capital, even if the quietude of the sea waves gets to him. He likes his routine of fishing and working around the house, and living by the waters means that it doesn't get as hot, even during the Month of Everday. It's not like he's isolated—he goes to the village often enough to see his family and neighbours.

"You're going to be eating that fish for lunch, so watch your mouth." Phainon looks out of the window towards the field, hoping to catch a glimpse of his father as he pats Snowy's soft fur. "Where's my dad, anyway?" If he's not out there tending to the wheat, he'd be chatting with his friends in the village, but Phainon is sure that he didn't see him there.

There's a plate of cut apples on the table; Cyrene reaches over to pop one in her mouth while she shrugs. The patter of footsteps comes from the kitchen, Audata's voice firm over the splashing of tap water. "He's out of the village for the day. Go check on the wheat, since you're here, Phainon."

"I've been back for five minutes and you're working me like a dog," Phainon whines, stumbling to his feet. Snowy howls alongside him. "Can't this wait until lunch?"

"You'll run right off after lunch." A straw hat is shoved on his head, protecting his head from direct sunlight. Cyrene pats him on the back, leading him to the back door with no clear intention of joining him. "You know, I'm sure a few of my girl friends would be interested in coming to visit during our next break, I could introduce you—"

"I'm off now! Can't hear you!" Phainon hurries out of the house, ignoring Cyrene's laughter behind him.

No matter what others think, Phainon doesn't need the company. He's happy by himself near the sea, and that's all he needs.

 

Even though he took a shower before leaving his parents' place, Phainon had ended up sweaty and annoyed by the rocky road down to his house. He wakes up with a sore back from making sure his cart's wheels don't get damage on the sharp stones, the dark shroud of the Curtain-Fall Hour cooling the air around him. As always, he sets out to sea before the Entry Hour when the water is calm and the fish is plentiful. His boat is already stashed with the necessary equipment, tied to his makeshift dock.

It doesn't take long to drift far out, where the fish would gather. His fishing spots would change in tandem with the seasons, with the different fish migrating to and fro. The net sinks into the water when Phainon tosses it out, the drawstring of the net wrapped around his hand. Without the sun above him, Phainon can see the countless stars spotting the sky. It's easy to rest his eyes for a short morning, the cool temperature clinging to his skin as if he were sinking into the sea.

The fish is not as plentiful during this time of the season, so Phainon avoids drawing in the net too quickly. His ice box on board fills up slowly, while the sun rises above the horizon. The time passes before his eyes when he's busy hooking out his haul, Phainon only remembers himself when he sees something unusual in the distance.

There's a misshapen mass of grey floating just a few stretches away from his boat. Phainon thinks it's a trash bag at first and feels burning rage in his chest, before he realises how infeasible it is when there isn't any other residences near the beaches besides his own. After gathering the last of the wriggling fish, Phainon makes the impromptu decision to check out the oddity before heading back to shore.

"Is that... fur?"

The closer he gets to it, Phainon can make out the colours of the floating item. It's dark grey, with flecks of white and silver amongst the darkness. It's sleek in an unsuspecting way, but when he reaches out to touch it, he's sure that it's some sort of creature's fur, which is… not a pleasant discovery to make.

Phainon lifts it into the boat, yelping at the weight of it. The fur itself isn't all too thick, but there's a heavy layer beneath it that works his arms harder than he'd expect. "How was this thing even floating?" Phainon mutters to himself, dropping it beside his box of fish.

It's clearly an animal's pelt, even though there's no meat attached to it. Phainon shudders at the thought of a predator picking some animal's flesh clean off, but the underside of the pelt seems too smooth to be by another animal. The only other explanation would be that it's caused by a human with a weird penchant for exotic animal skin or flesh. The thought is heartbreaking—he can't imagine anyone so cruel to harm an animal in such a manner—but also concerning. He's sure such an animal can't be found anywhere close to Aedes Elysiae, based on the thickness of its skin, so it must have been brought over by a traveller of sorts.

Still, it doesn't account for it floating in the sea. After a good minute of rumination, Phainon decides that thinking too hard about it will not solve anything; he turns the boat back to the direction of the shore, preparing to head back home with his haul.

The thick skin must be soft to the touch when it's properly dried, Phainon thinks. It's a beautiful colour, shimmering under the sun of Kephale, the lighter spots of the fur glittering like stars in the night sky. He can't tell what animal it's from, or imagine what it's used for, but it's certainly pretty to look at.

Phainon doesn't intend to keep it, of course. It seems important to whoever that owns it, with how cleanly kept it is. However, the chances of finding a person odd enough to keep such a thing is close to zero on the shores of Aedes Elysiae, and it might have been floating for weeks before Phainon found it. On a normal working day like this, he's already encountered his share of oddities, surely there will be nothing else out of the ordinary…

Phainon's place is located at an isolated plane of the shore, with small parts of the woodlands surrounding it. From the location he's at, he can see past the expanse of trees, towards other parts of the shore. It's usually barren due to the danger of sharp rocks in the sand, which should be the case just like any other day.

That is, if Phainon wasn't looking at what seems to be a person lying on the sand.

Are they dead? Is Phainon looking at a dead body that washed up on the shore? That's the last thing he wants to deal with right now. Phainon looks between his catch in the box dripping with condensation and to the body in the direction away from his home. It's not like a dead body's going anywhere, right..?

He squints at the odd shape in the distance. He can't gather any information besides that it's definitely a human body and very naked. Phainon, as a honourable person, should check on that person and bring them away from the rising waves of the beach. If they're swept away by the waters again, they might have family that will never know what happened to them.

Before he can make a decision between checking on the person and heading home first, Phainon catches movement. A minute shift in that body, pushing up against the rocks.

Phainon nearly tips his boat trying to catch a better look. The realisation that he might be peeking at a living human is like being hit with cold water—Phainon slumps back into his seat and considers slapping himself with a wet fish.

Might as well check them out. Phainon can't imagine anyone from his village would be lying naked on a beach that they know has sharp rocks, and he didn't hear about any questionable visitors when he went to visit. It might be cool by the sea, but the Month of Everday's sun is scorching to anyone unsuspecting and completely bare.

There's a peculiar inkling in him that connects this strange person to the pelt he just found. Too many peculiarities in one day makes Phainon brew in his suspicion, but he'd be the crazy one to storm up to a stranger with unusual questions.

Curiosity trumps the warning signs in his brain. At the very least, Phainon wants to speak to this person to make sure that they're well and not on the verge of dying from hypothermia.

The boat docks a few feet away from what seems to be a blonde man. Now that he's closer, Phainon can see the vibrant red marks on the man's body. Stretching from the dips of his collarbones, down the muscular expanse of his abs, to his thick thighs—very, very bare thighs.

Phainon trips while getting out of the boat. A resounding first impression.

"?"

Scrambling to his feet, Phainon's gaze meets a piercing gold. And that's all he allows himself to look at, lest his attention goes back to this man's nakedness.

"I— You're—"

He should have just went home. Phainon tries not to choke over his own words while the man in front of him sits up, looking confused. The questionable nature of everything else going on makes it less embarrassing than it should be; Phainon takes a proper look at the stranger's unusual appearance.

The red marks on his body seem to glow from the inside, like one of Cyrene's lava lamps. Phainon tears his eyes away from the swirling ruby, gathering his senses to communicate like a normal human being.

"Uh, sir? Are you a visitor? You shouldn't be out here dressed like this."

The blonde man lets out a yawn, stretching out his arms behind him. Sand and small rocks cling to his back and arms, skin reddened from scraping against the ground. The lack of footwear makes Phainon wince—well, the man isn't wearing anything at all, so there's nothing to be surprised about.

"What do you mean?" The man blinks up at him, before his attention is taken away. He starts looking around him, leaning over the rocks like he's searching for something.

His voice is magnificent. A gravelly resonance, like the drag of metal against wood, but light and subdued.

Phainon takes two seconds to realise that he's staring at this stranger's bare ass, and connecting the dots between the odd pelt he found and this man's lost expression. Berating himself for looking like a fool, he leans over his boat to pick up the heavy skin to present to the man.

"Well, forget it. Are you looking for this?"

It's soft beneath his hands. Like the inside of a winter coat, or the fur of a pampered pet. The man looks up at the item in Phainon's hands, and his eyes widen.

Taking it as a sign of recognition, Phainon kneels down to pass it to him. The beautiful man takes the pelt from him cautiously, eyes grazing over it. He looks it up and down, flipping it inside and out, before hugging it to his body.

There's no sign of wariness now; the man smiles at him as he says, "Thank you for retrieving my skin, kind man. I shall repay you for this."

Skin? Phainon thinks that it's some exotic sea animal's skin, sure. This man must have some weird taste in fur coats. "You mean your clothes? You should really put them on, then."

The waves crash up to the man's knees, causing him to wince. Phainon takes a closer look at the soles of his feet, catching sight of red scrapes and watered-down blood. Is this tourist is clueless or a masochist?

"Your feet are really hurt. You should get away from the water and get that wrapped up."

Phainon would offer to take him back to the village for treatment, but the travel might be too much with how battered his soles are looking. He stopped keeping a first aid kit in his boat after continuously forgetting to restock its supplies—hindsight doesn't help him all that much. His only other option would be to take this man to his home and fix his feet up there. "I'm Phainon, I live around here. What's your name?"

"…Mydei of Castrum Kremnos. Pleasure to meet you," he says, head lowered to a nod. The fur coat slides down to his lap as he accepts Phainon's hand, allowing himself to be brought away from the rocks.

Phainon almost laughs at the formal way Mydei speaks. "You can come over to my place first so I can help you with your injuries first. It's going to get much warmer soon; you shouldn't be on the sand right now."

"Warm…" Mydei keeps his hand in Phainon's, the other holding on the animal pelt. There's an icy coldness to Mydei's skin, like he's been in a completely different climate for the past few hours. Phainon tries not to shiver, watching Mydei carefully while escorting him into the boat.

Despite his wounds, Mydei hops into the boat without issue, frowning at the net and fishing rod on the floor of the boat. He pokes at the ice box while Phainon unhooks the boat, changing its angle to set back out for the sea.

"Do you stay nearby? There's not a lot of residential areas around here." The man has nothing on him besides that fur coat, not even a set of goddamn clothes. Phainon can't possibly fathom how Mydei managed to get here or where he came from, and he doesn't seem keen on sharing that information.

"You have fish in here," Mydei says, pulling out a sea bream from the box by its tail.

Water drips from the fish onto the boat. Phainon huffs, trying not to look at Mydei while he steers the boat towards his home. "I'm a fisherman. Leave that inside, please."

"You eat this fish?"

"Well, I sell most of it to the others at the village. I guess I do eat fish most of the time, though." It's a quick ride back to his place; he has a proper dock on his side of the shore, with a place to tie his boat down properly and a path towards his cottage.

Mydei doesn't wait for the boat to be stabilised before he's hopping onto the wooden platform. Phainon yelps as the boat shakes, grabbing onto the side of the seat. He shoots Mydei a glare—a naked Mydei, Phainon nearly forget—and quickly turns away, tugging the rope around a pole while cursing under his breath.

It's one thing if this man's a pervert, but can he not attractive while he's doing it? Phainon takes a deep breath and thinks of the kind, older neighbours from his village. Arduous fishing in the heat of dawn and dealing with fish flopping all over his deck. Nothing that involves naked men strutting around with tattoos that curl around his arms and thighs.

"Hey, be careful! Titans, at least I'm not prone to visitors…" Phainon lifts the ice box up with a grunt, stepping out of his fishing boat carefully. There are dark footsteps on the floor of the dock, reddened from the dripping blood.

Between his concern for Mydei's injuries and his blatant ogling of Mydei's round ass, Phainon feels a little dizzy from the burning sun. Pretending not to notice how Mydei bends over to look at his tomato plants, he fishes out his keys to open his front door with a floundering hand.

The only people that really ever stop by are his parents—who have stopped making the trip as age catches up to them—and Cyrene. He's never been good at hosting guests like his parents are, but Mydei doesn't seem to care that his house is a total wreck of unkept belongings.

"Go sit down, I'll bring over some antiseptic and bandages."

While he might not get hurt out at sea, Phainon's gotten himself tangled in some nonsense while living here. He has a cabinet full of medical supplies, courtesy of the village's doctor who continues to berate him about the safety concerns of living so far away by himself.

Mydei is on the couch, hugging the animal pelt to his lap—thank Kephale—while holding up a wrench Phainon forgot to put away. "Is this a weapon?"

"What? No, just— Have you never seen a wrench before?" Phainon thinks of the pampered brats from the capital that Cyrene tells him about, wondering if he accidentally kidnapped a son of a wealthy family.

Mydei frowns and shrugs. Phainon decides that it would be unproductive to continue the conversation, so he sits on the ground beside the couch to inspect Mydei's feet.

There's bits of rock embedded into his soles, blood and sand clumping up between his toes. Phainon winces, wondering how he even walked all the way here without a flinch.

Using a damp washcloth, Phainon takes one of Mydei's feet by the ankle, wiping down the grime carefully. Mydei spreads his legs to lean down, watching Phainon's movements curiously. "What are you doing?"

"I'm making sure your injuries don't get any worse." Phainon feels weirdly lost in this interaction. Mydei seems to have no understanding of basic concepts—even spoiled kids should know about making sure to bandage wounds, despite not knowing how to do it themselves.

At least he doesn't complain about the pain when Phainon applies the antiseptic liquid, his knee jerking slightly against Phainon's shoulder. Being between Mydei's thighs doesn't help his ability to think straight either. Phainon keeps his head down as he wraps Mydei's feet, trying to keep his mind pure of naked men and bandaged feet pressing against his inner thigh.

"There we go," Phainon grunts, tying off the ends of the wrap and putting away the dirtied cloth. "Don't go running around in the sand without shoes anymore. Are you hungry?"

He's been so distracted by this new encounter that he forgot to start on lunch. Phainon adjusts his pants as he gets to his feet, eyes darting away from Mydei. The fish are still on the counter in the travel box, condensed water flooding the waxed wood.

"Hm. The fish."

"Yeah, might as well." Phainon turns around to see Mydei following behind him, the animal pelt nowhere to be found and his body in plain sight. "Seriously, you need to put on some clothes!"

Mydei blinks at him. "Where do you intend for me to get such things?"

"That's— Okay, wait a second." He doesn't understand how a man ends up with absolutely nothing to his name on Aedes Elysiae's beach. Frankly, he's still wondering if he's in a dream.

Rather than ogling Mydei to figure out if they're of similar size, Phainon finds the loosest set of clothes he has, well-worn from working under the sun. The last thing he would expect is to have a naked blonde strutting around his house—it's starting to sound like his life is sounding like a fantasy from someone's erotic dream.

He returns to the kitchen, just to find Mydei sniffing at a whole salmon he dug out from the box. There's a pause between them as their eyes meet, Mydei staring at him before opening his mouth. Ready to take a bite out of the raw fish.

"What are you doing?! Are you starving or something?" Phainon rushes over to stop him, putting the clothes aside to take the fish away from him. "Let me cook it first, it won't take too long."

He drops the fish onto a cutting board, swatting Mydei out of the kitchen. The other man just grumbles, muttering something about "a waste of time" as he fumbles with the soft fabrics. Does he eat raw fish often? A newfound concern for Mydei's health and sanity comes to light.

Tossing a lighted match into the brick stove, Phainon works on getting the salmon filleted. He doesn't ever cook anything special, having only learnt the barebones for feeding himself. He supposes there's no need to be insecure about his cooking prowess if this man is eating salmon straight out of the sea.

As he's waiting for the pan to heat up, Phainon recalls his new guest's previous greeting. Mydei of Castrum Kremnos. He's never heard of such a location in his life, even with all the books Cyrene brings home. Perhaps it's not a kingdom from Amphoreus, and Mydei is from a faraway land that has extremely different customs from Aedes Elysiae.

He's pondering about the logistics of finding a naked man from an unknown land when a cool arm presses up against his. The clothes hang on Mydei's body freely—he seems pretty bulky, but still stands an inch shorter than Phainon. Mydei gives the halved fish a suspicious look, prodding at the seasoning bottles on the shelf. "You live all by yourself? There's no one else here."

Phainon startles, taken aback by Mydei starting the conversation. "Well, there's my village where my family and friends are, but it's a long walk over. Did you want to go there?"

"Walk?" Mydei scrunches his nose. "No, that's too much of a hassle. My legs get all cut up."

"I'm pretty sure that's what sandals are invented for," Phainon sighs. He's decided not to overthink Mydei's ignorance of the simplest concepts. "How did you get to the beach? Do you need any help going somewhere?"

"From the sea."

Mydei doesn't elaborate further. A shipwreck? Phainon can't think of another explanation, and he doesn't want to pry any further lest he upsets the man. "That… makes sense. I guess I don't mind if you stay here for a while, especially with your feet all battered up."

The sizzling of the fish skin on the oiled pan makes Mydei jump in place. Phainon would laugh, if it weren't for the vice-like grip on his shoulder.

"Woah, calm down! I can cook a fish, I promise! You should go sit down or you'll mess with the bandages."

Mydei looks at the pan, before swivelling around to return to the couch. Relief washes over Phainon as the persistent eyes leave, shuffling away to mess with his cushions instead.

"Where did you find my skin?"

"Your skin?" Phainon asks mindlessly. "Oh, it was floating in the water. I was fishing when I saw it. You should watch over your belongings, next time."

There's a soft grunt from Mydei, over the methodical sounds of the kitchen. Phainon had already expected some awkwardness when inviting a stranger into his house, but he's more surprised to see Mydei settling into his couch without much hesitation, tucking the pelt into a corner behind himself.

"Mm, okay," a drowsy tone replies, likely not processing Phainon's words. Turning his attention back to the food, Phainon focuses on making sure he's not left with charcoal because he's too busy staring at Mydei. If he's never had a pan-seared salmon before, Phainon would be glad to change his worldview.

 

Having Mydei in his home had been an unique experience. Phainon hasn't realised how little a grown man can know about life until now—Mydei questions why Phainon disappears with a cartload of fish on a random morning or how he gets different types of plants to grow in the small pots in his front yard. The concept of trading fish for vegetables passes by easily to Mydei, though he still doesn't understand the need to wear clothes at all times.

Mydei doesn't do much around the house, besides lazing on the sand when the tide is low, hogging the bath to soak his legs, or watching Phainon fish in the mornings. He leans over Phainon's shoulder to watch him cook, tasting anything that he doesn't recognise. It's not as tedious as Phainon thought it would be. Mydei chats with no expectations, indulging Phainon in the most mundane conversations or banter. For the first time in ages, Phainon looks forward to seeing someone everyday, expecting to see Mydei there when he wakes up.

Two weeks after he finds Mydei on the beach, he sets out for the same route once again, but with a dozing Mydei in tow. The man is impressively skilled at fishing, Phainon had learnt, even able to reach down to snag a fish by its tail from the boat.

"You don't have to come along if you're still tired, you know. It can't be comfortable sleeping on that bench."

Mydei had been kind enough to put on some pants before they left, but his chest is in full view. The crimson marks glow under the moonlight, drawing attention to the curve of his pecs, rising and falling with each breath he takes. It doesn't look like the ink needled into skin, but rather a part of it. He's asked Mydei about it once, only to be met with a confused shrug.

The boat slows when Phainon pulls back the oars, pulling Mydei out of his daze. "It's nicer out at sea. Why are you the only one who lives here?"

"It's not convenient for the others to walk back and forth, I suppose. I like having my own place, so it doesn't matter too much to me that I can't go back as often."

The first few days after he returned the layer of fur to Mydei, the man refused to let go of it all day. He attempts hiding it under the decorative pillows or placing it with the plants that need less tending to, like how one would try to bury a piece of treasure. Phainon knows that he cares about it, even if he doesn't understand why; he doesn't touch or move it about when he sees it.

This time, Mydei left the pelt behind, keeping it hidden in Phainon's closet. He leans over the boat to stare at the splashing waters, reaching out to swipe at the surface.

"There's always few fish here," Mydei says, as Phainon is hauling up a wriggling net.

"It's the hottest season right now, so it's not as plentiful. As long as there's enough to work with, I won't complain."

The uncomfortably wet noises of fish struggling in the ice box muffles Mydei's words. "If you can reach deeper, you can get more. You live near the sea but can't swim?"

"Of course I can swim! You know I can swim!" Phainon splutters, swinging the net back out. "That doesn't mean I can just dive underwater to catch fish with my hands—that's crazy to think of."

"Hmph. You should expand your horizons."

Phainon is pretty sure that he's being played with and decides not to be antagonised any further. For some reason, Mydei is pulling out quite a few fish that should not be at the surface of the water. No one should be able to catch a fish by its tail like Mydei does, really, but Phainon has chosen to stop asking the unfathomable questions in life.

"Well, it can't be all that interesting to stay around here with me, anyway. You could go to the village, or to the capital of Amphoreus, Okhema. Wherever your home is, it's probably easier to find transport from there."

Mydei sits up and frowns. "Do you want me to leave?"

"Huh? That's not what I meant," Phainon quickly says, his mouth moving faster than his mind. "I mean— Wouldn't you want to go home? You never told me why you're here, but…"

Admittedly, Phainon hasn't thought much about how long Mydei intends to stay. It doesn't affect his lifestyle too much—cooking for two isn't too drastic of a change, and Mydei had no complaints about sleeping on the couch. When he feels like it, Mydei would help water the plants or chop wood for the stove. In Phainon's opinion, it's not too much trouble.

Then again, Phainon's opinion is pretty biased, considering that he's thinking with his dick for the most part. Having a beautiful man lazing around his house is doing substantial work for his masturbation fantasies. The way Mydei looks at him doesn't help either, innocent interest in everything Phainon does.

It feels wrong to pretend that Mydei doesn't have somewhere to return to when he's left in the dark. He can't expect Mydei to stick around forever, even if a small part of him wishes that he would.

"I… argued with my parents before I left, so they're not going to expect me to come back for a while. I came to the closest shore I could find to see the sun for a bit, but I guess I've been out longer than I should…"

Perhaps it's the absence of Kephale's sun above them and Phainon is too exhausted to process Mydei's words. The sentence itself makes sense, but doesn't sound possible to put into context. Phainon doesn't linger on it further, only focusing on the part he can take in. "Was that supposed to be comforting? You shouldn't leave your parents without making up first, you know."

"It was their fault," Mydei mutters, kicking his feet up. "I'll go home when I feel like it."

"Right." The sun starts to rise over the horizon. Homing a runaway brat isn't on Phainon's list of things to do after getting his own place. Rather than berating Mydei for his lack of filial piety, Phainon goes back to ogling Mydei's generous chest. Fishing has never been so interesting.

 

Mydei leaves before the dawn of the sixteenth day. He makes no fuss over it, nor does he take anything along for his trip. If Phainon didn't know better, he might think the past weeks a long and paradisiacal dream.

Phainon woke up to an empty home, his couch barren and silent. He called out Mydei's name, checking the kitchen and out of the front door, to no avail. There was no one sitting in the waves and staring out at the sea, or messing with the arrangement of his plants in his front yard. His boat was left untouched; there was a bundle of firewood left by his fence, one he certainly didn't recall having.

It's been quiet—Phainon went back to his usual routine, the one that's never been interrupted, but without a word spoken. He gets his fishing done, returns to a just-as-empty home, cooks a meal for two. The next day, he packs up his cart to head to the village, sells off his produce to his neighbours and picks up his groceries in return. He greets his neighbours as always, checks on his parents before heading back home.

Phainon has never told them about Mydei, but they notice his behaviour anyway. His mother doesn't even send him out to the field, frowning at him with a hand to his cheek. "You're looking pale, dear. Something on your mind?"

"I'm fine, Mom." Even the lie feels heavy on his tongue, his mind wandering in a hundred different directions.

He's not upset at Mydei. It doesn't feel right to be—Mydei doesn't live with him, he has a home and family to return to. A part of him wished that Mydei would at least tell him that he's leaving, or asked for him to follow along. Perhaps Mydei isn't actually gone, maybe he wandered off and got distracted again, even though Phainon knows that Mydei hates walking any further than he has to.

Phainon returns home with the sun glaring in his eyes. In a couple of weeks, the Month of Freedom will bring about more wind and an abundance of fish. Mydei would probably enjoy being out during then; the mornings will stay cool for longer, and the sand won't feel like pins and needles when the sun is out. They'd spend more time outside, arguing about where Phainon should leave his plants when the inside of his fence gets too crowded.

It's ridiculous, he knows, to be losing sleep over someone he's know for a little over two weeks. His perception of time feels warped, like he can't accept that it's been days without anyone else in his home. Mydei left without a word—he must have been confident about finding his way back without help. Phainon wishes he could feel some relief in that, but is only met grating annoyance.

Being self-sufficient has always been Phainon's expertise. He spends time with his family often enough, and goes to the capital to see Cyrene if she's too busy. There's never been the bubbling sensation of needing to converse with someone, until Mydei came along.

He feels pathetic. The routine he continues to follow is the same as always, yet emptier without Mydei around. The small amount of the time shouldn't overwhelm his thoughts the way it does. Yet, he can't bring himself to sit on his own couch, or clear the spot in the closet he saved for Mydei. Four days. Four days since Mydei has left, and he continues to cling onto the hope that Mydei might come back.

It takes one person to turn his world upside down in an instant. Phainon cooks for himself, keeping his eyes firmly away from the window.

 

"If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you're moping, Phainon."

"Thanks," Phainon says with a roll of his eyes, carrying a bunch of bags that do not belong to him.

Visiting Cyrene had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. In hindsight, he wouldn't have bothered coming, if he knew he'd be free labour the moment he got here.

"I also know you don't talk to anyone outside of our neighbours and your parents, which means…" Cyrene pulls him towards a tavern, a crowd already forming as the Parting Hour ticks forward. "You met someone."

Phainon doesn't flinch. Showing any sign of weakness would lead to his demise. "You just said—"

"I know what I said!" The inside of the building is bustling with activity, the scent of grilled meat and alcohol heavy on the nose. "But I know that look! You can't fool me!"

Thankfully, there are a few empty tables further back; Cyrene orders for the both of them without a moment of waiting. She seems familiar with the area, unlike him, so Phainon follows along quietly. Most of the patrons are about their age, already drinking the night away.

"Tell me about it! C'mon, you don't ever make a day-long trip for no reason!"

She's right, he wouldn't. He is also not going to spill his darkest secrets about a random man ending up at his house through an unthinkable experience one might come up with through a dream, as well as his less-than-innocent thoughts on it. Why is he even here again?

"You know there's never anything interesting going on in my life. You've been bugging me about it for years."

"And now you look like there's a cloud hanging over your head," Cyrene says, leaning against the table on her elbows. "Your fish wouldn't do that to you, so there has to be a 'someone'. I'm a little offended, honestly. Do you think I wouldn't be able to tell?"

Phainon has lived in Aedes Elysiae his whole life. He knows all the kids his age since he was a toddler, his relationships with them never developing further than friendships. The next logical step is to go out to meet new people, Cyrene once told him, but he's never found the energy to go out of his way.

In the end, Cyrene knows him best. He doesn't think he can tell her everything, but letting out the weight on his shoulders might do him some good.

"If… someone you've known for a short period of time, and they left without a trace, what would you do?"

"Left? What do you mean by that?"

Phainon, for all his confidence, folds easily. Too easily. He tells Cyrene about Mydei—not in detail, of course—and the bit of time he spent at Phainon's house. How he spent every day with Mydei by his side at one moment, just to have the rug pulled under him one lonely morning. The slight hope that continues to extinguish as the days pass by, his annoyance and anger transforming into a spark of anguish.

Perhaps he's not as good at concealing his feelings as he thought. Cyrene stares at him for a good minute after he finishes speaking, their plates untouched between them.

"I… didn't think I'd see the day where you have a crush on someone."

"That's not what this is!" Phainon raises his hands in the air, waving frantically at her. "I'm just worried! I mean, I get worried when you decided to come to Okhema all by yourself!"

Cyrene tsks, her braids bouncing as she shakes her head. "It's not the same thing! You're yearning. You think about this guy all day when he's gone and rode all the way out here to complain about it!"

That is not what happened, Phainon wants to say. But her evidence is currently outweighing his, and Phainon knows that getting into a losing argument with Cyrene is like shoving his head into a guillotine. The fluttering of his heart doesn't help his case much—if Mydei were here, he'd knock Phainon over the head for talking too much with food in front of him.

"I can't come see my best friend without some massive conspiracy about my nonexistent love life?" Phainon grumbles, finally cutting into his steak. "Do you have such a low opinion of me?"

"You just spent ten minutes talking about your very-existing love life, Phainon. I'm working with the facts here."

He's not in love with Mydei. Sure, Phainon likes spending time with him and did some ridiculous things just for his entertainment, and perhaps he thinks about Mydei more often than a normal person should. There's also the churning warmth in his gut when he talks about Mydei, blazing-hot embarrassment painting his cheeks as he thinks of Mydei and his captivating golden eyes—

"Oh Kephale, did I fall in love with a man I met less than a month ago."

"You're hopeless. At least you've noticed."

Phainon stares into his dinner blankly. His appetite seems to have left before the imminent disaster of this realisation hits him in the face.

He's in love with Mydei, and the man had just disappeared without a trace.

"I don't even know where to find him! Titans, I'm a fool…"

Cyrene taps the table, humming to herself. "Well, it sounds like there's nothing else you can do about it now… Does he not reciprocate your feelings?"

"Can you stop rubbing it in? I'm distraught!" Mydei didn't leave Phainon any way to contact him, nor did he mention that he intends to return. "Does that mean he rejected me? Am I not good enough for him?" Mydei is beautiful and perhaps out of his league, but Phainon thinks that they got along pretty well for two very different people.

"Only you would know that, Phainon. Maybe he doesn't like men who work with fish." Cyrene's words offer him no comfort, as usual. Phainon should have turned to someone else for advice.

"He likes the fish, I will have you know. He even comes out to sea with me in the middle of the Curtain-Fall Hour."

Cyrene rolls her eyes. "Oh, great, he likes the fish. Now you know you really rattled him to get him to leave."

Any further conversation will only annoy him more; Phainon stuffs his face with his now-cooled food while glaring daggers at Cyrene. He did not creep Mydei out, he's sure of it. Well, he's mostly sure… probably.

Before he can spiral down the hole of what did I do to scare him off, Cyrene says, "Since you're already here, you might as well hear about my classmate's latest scandal. It's totally nefarious—the girls say that he was caught with a married woman!"

Listening to Cyrene's chatter serves as a timely distraction. Phainon slumps back into his seat, poking around at his food. He can consider the implications of Mydei's disappearance in the isolation of his own room, sobbing like some lunatic. For now, he can criticise random men he's never met with his best friend until the night falls.

 

During the Month of Freedom, the sun takes a tick later to rise, the market opening later than usual. There's a lazy air to the village during these days, no longer rushing from place to place under the blazing sun. Phainon feels like he's moving in slow motion, mind turning to goo from sitting out for so long.

"Oh dear, the dark circles under your eyes have gotten worse. You should get some more rest when you can these weeks." The older lady beside him says, shoving a warm loaf of bread into his hands.

"Yes, ma'am. I won't come too early next time, ma'am." Phainon takes the fussing and nagging with stride, his damp hair being ruffled into a haggard mess. "You should head home too, ma'am, I can pack up for you—"

And Phainon is quickly shooed out of the market in record time, with even more goods than he first came with. Heading to his parents' place is just as hopeless—they tell him to take the fruits from the basket they set aside for him, and kicked him right out of their house, telling him to "get better soon". Phainon isn't ill, he tells them that much, but he's back on the road before he can win that argument.

His feet are aching and his back is sore from pulling the cart all around. It makes for a good workout, but his current lightheadedness drags his mood down.

Maybe he really is ill. Phainon groans as he rubs his head, hauling his groceries into the house sluggishly. He's always had a strong immune system, but not even he can evade the occasional cold. A day off to sleep in would certainly do him some good; Phainon gives up on moving the cart back into the shed and decides that it's a tomorrow's problem, kicking off his shoes at the door.

Despite the exhaustion churning through his body, his appetite is terribly low even as he cooks a quick meal. Phainon barely remembers wolfing down his meal and washing up, nothing except the comfort of his bed.

He's unsure when he drifted off, nor how long he slept. His limbs feel slow and heavy when he gets up, a sliver of light peeks through the curtains above his bed. It's been a while since he was awake after the sun rises; Phainon kicks the covers off his body and grumbles profanities under his breath, raising the back of his hand to touch his forehead. It's still a little warmer than usual, and his throat feels scratchy and dry.

Phainon gets up to grab some water from the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He's feeling a little dizzy, but it's not anything out of the ordinary.

As Phainon chugs down the water, he stares down blankly. He hadn't noticed it at first, but there are plates of seared cod and leafy vegetables on the table. Food that seems to be steaming-hot and not left behind from his forgetfulness.

Next, he turns to look at the main ice box where he stores his fish. It was emptied during his trip the previous day, and he hadn't gone out since then. The reasonable conclusion is that the box will be empty. Very reasonable conclusion.

Yet, when Phainon steps forward to open it, he's hit with the sight of a full bin. Dozens and dozens of fish of species he's never even seen—it's certainly not found in Aedes Elysiae, nor the imported seafood from Okhema and Styxia. It's as if someone took a deep dive into the unknown in order to catch them.

Ah, is he so ill that he's seeing things? Perhaps it's some sort of dream he hasn't woken up from. Phainon considers hitting himself against the wall, just to make sure he's not sleepwalking.

Before he ends up collapsing in his kitchen, a banging sound comes from his bathroom. Like the drop of a shampoo bottle in his shower. Phainon turns a shade paler than he already is.

Sure, he doesn't lock his door half the time, but there's also no one insane enough in the village to walk into his house without knocking. It's also much too early for anyone to consider coming all the way to his place, especially not to… hide in his bathroom?

Phainon slowly creeps towards the noise. He's unsteady on his feet and has a pounding headache, but he's got no problem throwing a punch if he has to. Then again, what kind of intruder cooks a meal in someone's house?

Before he knows it, he's standing right outside the bathroom. He can hear the splashing of water—is the intruder seriously taking a bath right now?—and takes a deep breath, hand gripping on the doorknob.

He pushes it down, breath stilling as he says, "Who's there—"

In his ill-dazed mind, he forgets that a person would usually be naked in the bath. Because he can only stare in confusion and awe when he sees Mydei in his bath, bare down to the feet and water dripping down his body. Red marks still glowing like shining rubies, golden hair soaked and falling down his back.

Any presence of anger instantly fades, and his dick twitches in his pants.

Mydei turns around to meet his gaze, slowly blinking at him. "Hm? You told me not to come in when you're using the bathroom, and now you're doing it to me."

"That's your concern?!" Not that he seems concerned at all, Mydei is busy dunking himself into the water again. "Why are you— How are you—"

Phainon doesn't know the exact emotion he's feeling. Even in his fleeting moments of hope, he thinks he might get upset at Mydei if he were to show up one day. Anger, or maybe tears. However, he's pretty sure that the only thing he's feeling at the moment is utter bewilderment.

"You didn't go out today. Have you given up on fishing? That's boring. Where's the towel…" Mydei stands up in the bath, uncaring of his modesty.

Phainon slams the door shut, face burning red. "Put some clothes on before you talk to me! And I'm ill, not quitting my job!"

"So should I be wearing your clothes in the water or not…?"

There are a few glaring issues at the moment. One would be his inability to lock a door and the rest regarding Mydei's questionable behaviour. Mydei had been gone for over a month, long enough for Phainon to accept the fate that he wouldn't be coming back. He's been moping and dragging his feet and trying to get over Mydei, just to be hit with Mydei's return, settling into his home like he never left.

He doesn't know how long he's been standing outside of the bathroom, until he hears the door open behind him. Phainon is still staring at the wall when Mydei nudges his shoulder, hopefully dressed in something.

"What's so interesting about your wall?"

"You don't get to ask me questions!" Phainon exclaims, his fuse blown. "Where—Where were you?! And when did you get into my house?"

Mydei manages to drag him towards the kitchen, clearly deeming all of Phainon's concerns unimportant. The food on the table has cooled significantly, but Mydei grabs his utensils that Phainon had to convince him to use to start eating. He didn't even realise Mydei could cook—perhaps all that hovering had really taught him something.

"I went home to talk to my parents, like you said. They got upset I left by myself; I had to tell them exactly what I've been up to so they would stop worrying. They like you now, I think," Mydei says casually, like he hasn't ruined Phainon's mornings for weeks on end.

There's little going through Phainon's brain now, besides talk to my parents and they like you now. Relief and nervousness hits him all at once; Mydei talked about Phainon with his parents, and they liked him? Is this a step in getting into a relationship with someone?

"…Is not informing people when you leave a habit of yours?"

"Huh?" Mydei tilts his head. "Should I do that?"

Phainon sighs, deciding to sit down to eat. "Yes. Please."

The comfort of knowing that he didn't scare Mydei off was warmer than he thought. Phainon holds back a sneeze as he bites into the cod, the taste melting in his mouth.

"Hey, where exactly did you get that haul of fish? I've never caught cod in Aedes Elysiae before."

"From my trip here," Mydei says vaguely, staring at Phainon with a squint. "You're kind of red."

Phainon rubs the bridge of his nose, feeling a throb behind his skull. "That's what getting a cold does to you. I'm probably going to head back to bed after finishing up some chores."

"It's the first time I've seen you asleep with the sun up. I even watered the plants since you weren't up."

They fall back into rhythm quickly—Mydei helps with the dishes and laundry, before flopping onto the couch like a lazy cat. Phainon suppresses the roll of his eyes as he returns to his own bed, his heart thumping heavily in his chest.

The realisation that he has a crush on Mydei is making him overthink every little thing. He wonders if it's weird that he keeps looking in Mydei's direction, or if he should tell Mydei not to worry about helping out around the house. The need to impress Mydei is heavy on his tongue, but he doesn't want to come off too strong.

Phainon feels like dunking his head in cold water. He feels like he's driving himself insane just hearing the thumping of his heart, going haywire just at the mere thought of Mydei. Has it always been like this? Phainon can't remember having his mind in shambles all day in the past—though that might be the cold taking over, and he needs to get some sleep.

Just before he goes crashing down on his bed, a lump of grey catches his eye. Unassuming and laying on the corner of his bed, waiting for Phainon to notice.

He picks up the fur pelt, staring at it in confusion. It's the skin that Mydei tries to hide away, stashing it in places Phainon has never thought of. Phainon's bed should be the last place it's found, with all the caution Mydei invests into hiding it.

Perhaps he left it behind when he came by in the morning and forgot to retrieve it before Phainon woke up. He considers taking it out to Mydei, but the other man is likely to be fast asleep by now. It's not like he's going to do anything with it; as soft to the touch as it is, he doesn't know why Mydei keeps it so close to himself. An odd sense of guilt eats at him when he holds it in his arms, so Phainon decides to leave it on the nightstand for the time being.

Sleep comes easier to him without the clamouring anxiety haunting his closed eyes. He dozes off with the sun filtering through the curtains, feeling more rested than he's ever been in weeks.

 

Mydei acts like he's never been gone—he gets up before dawn to set out with Phainon, watching the stars while swiping at the water and the occasional sea bass. He argues about Phainon's decisions in interior design bought during his moment of weakness, or what he chose to cook for their dinner. The once-solemn atmosphere of his house has lightened up again, Mydei making himself home like he's always belonged.

Phainon had decided to make the bold request for Mydei to warn him before he decides to leave, which is met with an unbothered 'okay'. There's an argument to be made that this is practically a proposal, Phainon thinks, but Cyrene would likely disagree.

"You left this in my room, by the way," Phainon mentions one evening, when he realises that the animal pelt is still in his bedroom. He leaves it on the armrest of the couch, while Mydei is attempting to make a pie in his kitchen. Phainon doesn't even remember bringing home multiple bags of berries. It's what he gets for leaving his cart unattended for more than a few minutes.

Mydei turns around to look at Phainon, then at the grey lump on the sofa. His lips, a soft, pretty pink, curve down into a pout.

Phainon, of course, panics. It's a preferable reaction compared to cooing over Mydei's cute expression. "I didn't mean to touch it! I don't know why it was on my bed!"

"Alright," Mydei mutters, turning back to the pie. For some reason, there's a minute red that paints his cheeks, his heel thumping against the ground while he mashes the fruit aggressively.

The following silence is slightly unusual on Mydei's part; Phainon almost thinks that Mydei might be upset at him after all. He considers apologising, even though he doesn't know exactly what for, which led to a full quint of watching Mydei in the kitchen and wallowing in despair. That is, until the pie's out of the oven, which had led to Mydei trying to shove steaming-hot berry pie into his mouth and their bickering to continue on till the night falls.

The next day, Mydei wasn't awake when Phainon got ready to set out. Soft snores cut through the quiet of the early morning; the grey fur coat sits on top of the ice box of fish suspiciously, like a mark of something.

Phainon wants to ignore it. It's not his business where Mydei decides to leave his weird animal pelt, but something tells him to check the ice box. There shouldn't be much inside of it, since he headed back to the village recently, thus there is nothing to check on.

The more he looks towards the box, the heavier his curiosity grows.

The fur of the skin is slightly wet to the touch. Lifting Mydei's coat out of the way, Phainon sighs to himself, "What am I doing? There's nothing interesting in here—"

What was meant to be a half-full box of fish has become a box that's been filled to the brim. The same unique species that he's never seen in Aedes Elysiae, that Mydei said he found on his trip back from his home.

When did he go out to catch such a large haul? It sounds completely impossible for Mydei to have gone out and back in just one night… is it? He's never actually asked where Mydei is from, or how he actually gets to this small shore Phainon lives at. The only road to his place is from the village, and Mydei seems to have never passed by that area.

Thinking about these things at such an early hour only makes his head hurt. Leaving Mydei to his own devices might not be his smartest move, considering he left the previous time, but Phainon has more fishing to do. And another ice box to build, apparently.

Phainon ignores it. It happens again, and again. Sometimes, he finds the grey fur on the chair he usually sits at, or at the foot of his bed. He'll leave it as it is for a while, trying to figure out what Mydei expects him to do with it, before handing it back to him with as much confidence as he can muster. And for some insane reason, he'll be graced with a haul of fish the next day, like Mydei has decided that getting that weird coat back is some code for going out to fish in the middle of the Curtain-Fall Hour.

Oh Titans, is it really some hidden code? Phainon doesn't need Mydei to go out of his way like this, or spend his nights going out instead of resting. He considers bringing it up to Mydei properly, especially when he's reminded of it while seeing the fur coat.

Yet, the sight of Mydei renders him useless. More specifically, seeing Mydei completely naked by the lapping waters of the beach at the touch of dawn, only covered by the pelt over his lap. Seawater glints under the sun, like glitter on Mydei's skin. The sand is pale compared to the body that lays over it, eyes shut and breathing shallow as he drinks in the light.

Phainon is torn between running away with his tail between his legs and running away with his dick painfully hard. He's not given much choice in that regard because he's going right back into the house before he can let his mind wander and questioning all of his life decisions.

"Living with Mydei is more stressful than I remember," Phainon mutters to himself in the middle of a cold shower. He's probably been hard more times in the past three weeks than he's ever been in his life. "Maybe I should try meditation."

Despite his concerns, Mydei makes no indication that he intends to leave, and Phainon finds a pleasant comfort in that. With a familiar voice constant in his ear and his routine thrown off-balance, Phainon's days have never felt brighter.

 

On one of the days that Phainon would take to go back to his village, Mydei asks to go along. He's lying on the cart while Phainon gets the necessities packed up, watching the baskets and boxes stack up.

"It's a long walk, are you sure?" Phainon asks, pulling out a spare pair of sandals. It's not like Mydei looks out of shape with that conspicuous body of his, but he doesn't seem to get on his feet very often. When Phainon offers to let him join on a run, Mydei would make a put-off face before hiding under the blankets with a grumble. "We have to get there by the Entry Hour."

"I'll be fine," he says unconvincingly, stepping into the loosened shoes. "You always disappear for so long, it's boring to stay here." Phainon scowls in disbelief as he drops to his knee, tying them firmly to his feet. He disappears for longer than I do! He knows better than to argue with Mydei, though, so he nods placatingly.

Pulling the cart behind him, Phainon's pace is considerably slow. Still, Mydei complains halfway in, talking about how quickly Phainon is moving. He's sweating a little, even with the straw hat Phainon placed on his head, and ducking under the shade anytime he can.

"This is what I was concerned about," Phainon says towards the sky, a firm grip on his shoulders as he's been shaken back and forth. "Your parents ever tell you that you're kind of a brat?"

A knuckle raps against the back of his head. "I'd ought to slice off your tongue for that."

"If you have the energy to whine, you have the energy to walk. Drink some water and zip your mouth." Phainon throws him the waterskin, eyes on the road. "How do you manage anything when you can't even walk a short distance like this?"

Mydei takes a long swig, probably out of spite, while trudging after Phainon. At least his feet aren't battered by sand this time, Phainon determines with squinted eyes. Mydei does seem like the type to complain about a few blisters, though, so he allows for a short break near a clear lake before they reach the village.

"Why do you torture yourself like this?" Mydei asks in concern. "There are clearly animals that can do the work for you."

"It'd be easier to get around, but I don't have the resources or time to care for a horse. The village has a stable that loans out horses that I use if I have to head somewhere further, so it's not like I have to care for one myself."

Mydei grumbles unintelligibly under his breath, leaning against a large willow tree. "I should have stayed behind."

"I didn't force you to come." Phainon hops to his feet, holding out a hand to Mydei. "Let's go now. The tent I have provides better shade, and there's plenty of food going around. The faster we get there, the longer you get to sleep."

"I'm not going to fall asleep," Mydei argues, his palm cool and soft in Phainon's own. His legs seem to work like jelly as he stands, leaning against Phainon like he's trying to imitate a sack of fish. If it's an attempt to get on the cart and hitch a free ride, Phainon refuses to fall for it.

The market is already being set up by the time they reach, only a few stray passersby checking out the available stalls. The vendors that greet him are immediately drawn to Mydei who sits on the back of his cart, asking hundreds of questions and fawning over his beautiful hair and bright golden eyes.

"Why did you get your ink done? You're such a beauty, you shouldn't have scarred such flawless skin."

"Phainon, you have a partner now? How dare you not introduce him properly, you should come over for lunch!"

"This is the first time you've brought someone over, isn't it? Your parents know about him?"

Mydei sits behind Phainon while he's getting everything set up, watching the baskets of fish with mild interest. "How chaotic. Everyone seems to think you don't have friends."

"That is not the case!" Phainon does wish they had a little more hope in his romantic prospects, though—the disbelief on everyone's faces is a punch to his ego, even if he isn't actually dating Mydei.

"What's this about your parents? Do they not live here too?"

Phainon waves at a regular customer who approaches, getting ready to bag up the four sea bass she always buys. "It's at the corner of the village; we have a big wheat field to tend to there. We'll head over after I get everything here sold off and pick up some groceries."

Meeting the parents before having a defined relationship… Phainon has never been one for tradition, but he supposes that getting their stamp of approval might help him muster the courage to ask Mydei out. He's heard plenty about Mydei's own parents, and exchanged some stories of his own in their light chatter. All things considered, he's on a pretty straight road towards getting married with Mydei.

His stall is busier than ever, much of the attention directed to the new face behind him. Mydei answers all the questions thrown upon him vaguely, letting himself be showered with praise and doting by the older ladies, pastries and fruits being shoved into his arms. He shows no reaction to the assumptions that he's in a relationship with Phainon, only nodding when they tell him to take care of Phainon.

"How do you determine the worth of your fish to the vegetables and bread that you get?" Mydei would ask mindlessly while he places a large basket of carrots on the cart.

"It's more like a competition on who's able to give the other more without them noticing, really," Phainon says. "The money is more of a pretence, we take pride in the goods we produce, so giving to our neighbours is common here."

"You could feed a family of ten with all this."

Phainon frowns. "You eat like I have food for a family of ten, so don't complain. Some of it is for my parents, we'll divide it when we get there."

The market slows down when the Lucid Hour ticks over; Phainon has gotten rid of most of the fish, with the groceries he packed for his parents tucked in the cart. Mydei might have the social skills of a dead fish, but his natural charm has people tripping over their feet while he went shopping for snacks.

The trip to his parents' home is much shorter than the walk over, to Mydei's delight. The golden wheat field comes into sight quickly, the sound of a barking dog audible even before they get to the gate. Mydei is instantly on high alert, watching like a hawk when Snowy bounds over at lightning speed.

"You don't like dogs, Mydei?" Phainon whistles for Snowy to sit in front of him before he can attempt to leap towards the new presence.

Mydei has that put-off look on his face again, but leans down to take a look at the panting mass of white fur. Snowy's tail wags rapidly when Mydei places a hand on his head, smacking against the sandy road.

"Hm. It looks like you," Mydei says, rubbing one of Snowy's ears.

"You're comparing me to a dog? That's low."

Phainon waves Snowy back into the house, grabbing a few of the grocery bags. The doors are already wide open, his parents' muffled conversation audible as they step into the kitchen.

"I'm back! I brought a friend."

The kitchen counter gets crowded quickly, with all the food brought back and as well as a few bowls of proofing dough. His mother walks into the kitchen faster than he's ever seen her move, her intrigue blatant when she sees Mydei in her house.

"Oh? It's nice to meet you, dear! I hope my son hasn't been causing you trouble."

"Mom," Phainon groans, shoving a sack of tomatoes into the pantry. "Don't start."

"It's an honour to meet you, my name is Mydeimos." Mydei dips his head into a small bow, his hands clasped in front of him. Always oddly formal—Phainon doesn't seem to have known Mydei's full name until now—and expressionless.

The look that his mother directs at him is all too knowing; Phainon feels heat rising to his cheeks when she clicks her tongue, before smiling sweetly at Mydei.

"Call me Audata, Mydeimos! Are you visiting Aedes Elysiae? Hieronymus, get down here, would you!"

Mydei is ushered into the living area as Phainon is stuck doing groceries, with Snowy on their heels. He had been worried that Mydei would be overwhelmed by his parents' prodding and pushing, but he doesn't flinch in the slightest when a firm hand lands on his back. His father doesn't hesitate to ask Mydei about how they met, already curious about how Phainon managed to meet some nice, polite boy.

Phainon washes his hands and walks into the living room, groaning under his breath when he hears his mother telling Mydei a story from Phainon's childhood, the most humiliating one she can recall. Mydei is too invested in the prospect of six-year-old Phainon trying to ride a sheep twice his size, barely moving as Phainon sits beside him.

"Don't pester him, Mom. He stays in my house rent-free, you can't be telling him that I'm irresponsible!"

Mydei gives him a miffed look. Phainon isn't sure if he even knows what rent is, considering that he learnt how to use money just a quint ago.

His mother laughs heartily, getting to her feet. "You haven't brought a new friend over in ages, I can't help it. It's good to see that you aren't all alone out there, Cyrene has been considering staging an intervention."

"She's been considering it for years, my place's just too far out for her to put in the effort," Phainon says. "Do you need help with lunch?"

"As if I'd ever need your assistance, boy." His mother walks away with her head held high, handing Mydei a crisp apple. "Who knows what Phainon's been feeding you—my cooking's sure to be the best you'll ever taste!"

As Audata disappears into the kitchen, Mydei asks, "You didn't inherit any of her cooking skills after all? You're not a very good teacher."

"Shut it. I'm the only one you'll have, so you'll make do." Admittedly, Mydei picked up on the basic skills quickly. Phainon took much more than two weeks of observation to make himself a decent tasting meal.

His father had already went out to tend to the fields, leaving Phainon without a job to do. Mydei plays with Snowy, eyes darting between the overeager pup and Phainon.

"It's like your twin. White fur and all."

Phainon's heard the comparison a thousand times before, but the embarrassment of seeing Mydei's amusement burns his ears. A palm lands on Phainon's head, ruffling his hair like he's a pet.

"I hear that often enough, jeez…" Mydei's hand… It's cool as it tangles into his hair, icy against his scalp. Phainon nearly leans into the touch, eyes fluttering shut. "Your skin's always so cold. You know that's unusual, right?"

"Hm, we come from different environments, I suppose. I've never had such a hot sun attempting to cook me alive."

Phainon shudders at the thought of having to live in a land of constant cold, compared to Aedes Elysiae's warmth. Even the coldest nights of the Month of Mourning has him wrapped in blankets. He opens his eyes to see Mydei leaning over him, examining his hair curiously. They're sitting unnecessarily close to each other, Phainon's arm pressed between his body and Mydei's chest. He can only hope Mydei is too distracted to notice the blush that reddens his cheeks, eyes fixed on the floor as he lets Mydei play with his hair.

 

"You mentioned a friend from the capital," Mydei says, as they're walking back to the beach. "Cyrene?"

They left his parents' house some time after lunch, his mother sending them off with extra food and telling Mydei to visit some other time; the sun is beginning to set across the horizon, the golden sky streaking through the clouds.

"Yeah, her parents lived close to mine, and we're of similar age. Feels like I spent half my time with her when we were younger." Phainon doesn't reminisce about his childhood often, but meeting Cyrene was probably the biggest blessing of his parents' life. She never flinched at Phainon's antics, leaving him entertained and out of their way during busy afternoons.

The jut of Mydei's bottom lip is apparent; he crosses his arms while looking straight in front of him, playing with the fabric of his shirt. "If you have a friend like that, why did your mother sound so excited to meet me? You always travel to them yet no one visits you. They could have met me earlier."

"My parents are older, so I told them to stop making the trip out here when I would have visited them during my returns to the village anyway. Cyrene is busy with her studies now, but she does come over sometimes—even if she complains about it being too far away." Phainon rolls his shoulders back, already feeling the ache in his back. "To be honest, I prefer having my own space like this, without having someone banging at my door at all times of the day. The older folk in my village would disagree with me, but I enjoy being able to take a walk outside my house without being stopped a dozen times."

Phainon adds on awkwardly, because he figures that Mydei deserves to know the truth, "They're also more interested in my romantic affairs than anything, and they assumed that we're together since you mentioned living with me."

Mydei pauses. "Oh. Alright."

The tension in Mydei's shoulders loosens, his steps less stiff as they swerve off the road to get to the beach. Phainon feels like he's missing something; shouldn't Mydei be more concerned over that revelation rather than relieved? Their relationship isn't of the romantic sort, but he supposes that Mydei might not mind the misinterpretation…

"Are you fine with it? I can tell my parents to lay off you if you don't want to deal with their nosing." Phainon barely stumbles over his words, which is an impressive feat, considering how hot his face feels. "It's just not conventional for us to be, you know, living together, so they make their assumptions."

"Yes, one would only allow some to stay at their home if they are married, or at least romantically involved. That is how my parents taught me to make sure I wouldn't stay out too late."

Phainon chokes on air. Mydei turns to look at him in concern, reaching over the cart to offer him some water.

"But—" The words struggle to come out of his throat this time, his initial confidence trapped in limbo. "You told your parents you lived with me? And you came back?" Are Mydei's parents looking for him? Is he about to face a painful death for kidnapping Mydei into his home?

"Well, you returned my pelt and invited me into your home. I made sure to inform my mother of your deeds and kindness, and she is very agreeable to your proposal. My father will always argue for the sake of it, but my mother's judgement is final."

Proposal. Phainon racks his brain as to when that could have possibly happened. On the beach, when he chose to help Mydei?

"We're… together?" It feels like he's floating above the clouds, his mind buzzed and emptied out. "Like, together together?"

"What are you talking about now?" Mydei's pace speeds up when the house comes into view. "You brought me to your home."

Phainon did. His intention had been to make sure that Mydei would rest up properly before he had to leave, but he had stayed without showing any interest in leaving, and Phainon had not bothered to ask questions. It was only the sudden disappearance that had Phainon noticing just how much of an impact Mydei left on him, and the desperate longing for him to return despite his assumed anticipation of his departure. Having Mydei back only made him sure that he wants Mydei around indefinitely, which…

"Were you not under the impression that I was courting you in return? I even gave you my skin and brought you all the fish you liked." Mydei's face curls into a frown again, pausing in his walk to turn and face Phainon.

Phainon, unsurprisingly, panics. "No, no, it's not that!" He might have been completely oblivious to what Mydei considers as romantic gestures, but the disappointment in Mydei's face makes him feel sick to his stomach. "It wasn't really my intention, but I'm plenty open to it! I mean, I didn't realise you were…"

Mydei tilts his head, the braid he has hanging on his right shoulder sliding over his clavicle. "I don't live with random men."

"Thanks, I've noticed." Phainon flushes, trying to look towards the ground while he drags the cart to his front door.

While Mydei seems very confident with his decision, Phainon is sitting in the realisation that he's a little too laid-back over this whole situation. He's interested in Mydei—glaringly so. Mydei has known every aspect of his life, met his family, and heard stories about his childhood. While Mydei has shared quite a bit of tales of his own, Phainon knows that he downplays quite a bit of his explanations. In fact, he's still pretty confused as to why there's a dead sea creature's pelt in his bed.

Mydei flops onto the couch, unwilling to help with the rest of the chores. Phainon considers offering him to take the bed, as one would offer their partner, but a rush of embarrassment hits him at the thought of Mydei in his bed.

"You're distracting me," Phainon hisses under his breath, which Mydei makes a confused grunt to. "You can… sleep in my bed, if you wish. As long as you're comfortable with it."

His eyes stay firmly on cooking dinner, only because he has to make sure nothing burns. There's an unnerving quiet behind him, before Mydei says, "You're propositioning me."

A part of Phainon dies inside him, sinking in his depths of shame and perversion. "That's not— I'm not—"

"I do not know what your customs are, but I do not mind intercourse before marriage if you're that desperate for it."

Phainon considers praying to Kephale for a moment, before deciding that he does not want to be struck down for blasphemy. The sizzling of fish doesn't distract him from the words "intercourse" and "marriage" and "desperate", his mind fitting those three words together into some twisted fantasy of Mydei, Mydei, Mydei.

He should want to do it right—take Mydei on dates, meet his parents and gain their approval, put a ring on his finger before getting him into his bed. But the temptation that Mydei has laid out for him is getting him antsy and flustered, unable to look Mydei in the eye as they eat their dinner. Phainon truly isn't the type to jump at any opportunity to get laid—though that's before he's been faced with someone as stunning as Mydei.

"When you said that you told your parents about my… proposal, what exactly does that entail?" Phainon deflects the depraved thoughts with his curiosity, wondering about Mydei's own customs. "Should I be sending your parents gifts or something?"

"There's nothing particular I can think of. They'll come meet you when they're ready, which should prevent any attempt against your life with my father cooled down."

Attempt against his life?! Phainon shoots Mydei a horrified look, the other man looking contemplative as he does the dishes. "Should I be prepared for a fight?"

"That's unnecessary. My mother might attempt to scare you off, but nothing more." The shirt Mydei has on isn't his own purchase, but one of Phainon's loose button-ups. The collar slides down tantalisingly, exposing Mydei's nape beneath his tied-up hair.

"Right," Phainon says with his mind already wandering. He wants to see how Mydei's neck would look when it's splotchy with bruises, having to hide the marks under his blonde hair.

Mydei ends up making tea while Phainon goes through at least five stages of despair. The scent of mint wafts in the air, a glass mug placed in front of him. It's supposed to be a calming blend, a gift from Cyrene's trip to Janusopolis, but Phainon does not feel very calm when he's busy burning his throat. Havoc reigns in his brain as he tries to keep his dick in his pants.

"You're unusually quiet now."

"Weren't you the one complaining that I argue with you too much?"

Mydei drops beside him on the couch, leaning against Phainon with his head on Phainon's shoulder. "And now you're deflecting. It wasn't my intent to make you nervous."

"I am not," Phainon lies, his hand instinctively going to Mydei's hair. It's slightly rough to the touch, fraying ends of his red tips leaving his hair more tangled.

Looking at Mydei is his favourite activity in the evenings, for reasons more moral than one would imagine. The slow blinking of his usually-sharp eyes, the droop of his head as he tries not to drift off. Mydei's terribly cute, even if the man himself doesn't think likewise. Phainon could bite down on him and hear him yelp, getting him to squirm and kick his feet.

He's lost in his own imagination when Mydei adjusts himself, head moving downwards. Lower, lower, lower, until he's resting his head in Phainon's lap. Legs stretched over the armrest of the couch, a hand pressing at the inside of Phainon's thigh, inches away from his rising interest.

Phainon nearly stops breathing. "Ah, Mydei— What are you doing?"

"If you do not intend to have sex with me, I'm going to sleep."

A heavy blush takes over his face as he splutters incoherently at the remark, the fabric of his boxers stretching taut. He fights the urge to cover his erection like a chaste teenager, hoping that Mydei doesn't turn around and be met with a faceful of his cock.

"Wait, wait— Are you sure? I mean, we're not married, we're not—"

Mydei's hand lands on the bulge in his pants. A firm, resolute palm grinding against on his erection.

"It seems like you don't care for such things either, so there's no reason to put it off." Mydei looks up at him, with that soul-piercing gaze. "Oh, unless it's because you're virginal."

Phainon could wither away right there and then. "I am not! Wait, is that a problem?!"

"I didn't say it was." There's a tug at the hem of Phainon's pants. "These are in the way again. You should just get rid of your clothes when you're home."

"I know I don't have neighbours, but that doesn't make me comfortable enough to walk around in the nude." Phainon pulls Mydei's hand away, resisting the urge to grind against the pressure. "Bedroom first. I'm not getting naked on this couch."

Mydei groans and complains while being brought onto his feet, holding Phainon in the hand as he stumbles along with him. There's a lack of enthusiasm on his face, eyes wandering from Phainon's closet to the bed, where the spotted pelt is tucked under his pillow. Phainon doesn't even remember it being there the previous night.

Before Phainon can go through the awkward process of inviting Mydei to sit down, he flops down with his face against the pillow, hands digging into the grey fur. He's undeniably attached to it, yet he gives it to Phainon without a single explanation, even when it's returned to its rightful owner. Phainon wants to ask Mydei his exact reason for its importance, but the distraction of Mydei taking off his pants leave his mouth dry.

Ever since Phainon started forcing clothes onto the man, Mydei has claimed underwear to be a useless article. It's quickly proven that he's not been wearing any since, as Phainon is met with the sight of Mydei's bare ass, nothing else but Phainon's shirt on him.

"Okay. Alright, you're just—" Phainon swallows emptily, his breathing growing ragged. Mydei is splayed out on his bed, rolling over to his back. The marks streaks down his thighs, glowing a deep red as he lifts a leg to nudge Phainon's own arousal.

"I don't know how to do it like this, so you'll have to show me." Mydei pushes up on his elbows, looking down at his own flaccid cock. The shirt slides off one shoulder, his hair hanging loosely behind him.

Phainon isn't sure what "like this" is supposed to mean, but he's never had a man in his bed either. Suppressing the bubbling heat in his gut, Phainon sheds his clothes slowly, mind already racing with the thought of being naked in front of Mydei, despite the other man's regularity of going nude. Would Mydei judge him? Would he back out? Phainon's never considered himself insecure about his physical appearance, but looking at Mydei in front of him makes him overthink every step of the way.

Mydei watches him intently as his clothes are being shed, eyes flitting from Phainon's falling pants to his exposed privates. The urge to hide himself with his hands is eating at him, especially with the way Mydei is staring without saying a word.

"You want to put that in me?" Mydei finally chooses to speak, in that tone of disbelief he would make when he sees Phainon doing something he doesn't understand.

"H—Huh? Do you not want to?" Phainon basically folds into himself, quivering in place. "We don't have to do that if you don't want to!"

Mydei shakes his head, shuffling around the bed. "You're just bigger than I expected. If you know how to use it, we can do it."

The flush that spreads across his face is instantaneous; Phainon lets out a shameful squeak before walking towards Mydei, knees meeting the mattress with a soft thud. Mydei's legs are bent and spread, his cock half-hard between his thighs for Phainon to admire.

Phainon's half-empty vial of lubricant is a glaring reminder of his increased occurrences of masturbation ever since he's met Mydei. Being faced with the real thing is getting him lightheaded. Mydei is watching him curiously, lips pressed into a pout.

Phainon places it to the side, leaning over Mydei to be face-to-face. As nervous as he is, he can't help the urge to kiss Mydei, a necessary step to take before they actually have sex. Mydei blinks up at him with his wide shining eyes, not looking away when Phainon apprehensively closes his eyes and presses their lips together.

"Soft" and "cold" are the first words that comes to mind, before Phainon is melting into the kiss. Mydei's thighs squeeze around his waist, pushing back into him, fingers digging into his shoulders. Phainon ends up with half his weight on top of Mydei, but the other doesn't seem to care—Mydei sighs into the kiss, moving awkwardly against Phainon's. He whines and paws at Phainon when he tries to reach for Phainon's dick, only to be met with a hand pulling his wrist away.

"Ah, hurry up…" Mydei turns his head to complain, lips shiny with spit. He tugs at his seized hand, frowning like he's been horrendously wronged.

Phainon stifles a chuckle, leaving one last kiss to Mydei's forehead. "Okay, okay. Raise your butt up a little, sweetheart."

A confused noise leaves Mydei's throat, but he follows his instructions without asking. Phainon moves a pillow underneath Mydei to support him, positioning his legs apart to give Phainon space. With his body spread out in front of Phainon, it becomes distressingly difficult to think straight, soft skin flushed and his cock dripping from the tip.

Phainon doesn't let the vial slip between his fingers when he pours the oil over his palm, but it's a near thing. Mydei's gaze tracks him like a predator, despite being the vulnerable one beneath him, watching Phainon reach for his erection.

The first touch makes Mydei jump, a shudder rippling through his body as Phainon curls around him. Just enough pressure to draw a soft moan from Mydei. Phainon moves his hand slowly, feeling every twitch and heavy breath from the body beneath him. His other hand is resting on Mydei's inner thigh, keeping them from closing on him.

When Mydei lets out a whimper, Phainon lets go and tracing further down his cock, brushing over his balls to drag down his perineum. The tip of his finger finally reaches the puckered hole that Phainon has been pointedly avoiding, keeping his eyes anywhere but between Mydei's legs.

"Tell me if you're uncomfortable," Phainon says instinctively, patting Mydei on the knee. "Yell at me. Kick me if you have to. I can—"

"Phainon." Mydei has his hand in Phainon's hair. "Shut up and put it in me."

"Yep. Yeah, I can totally do that." Phainon does not have a miniature breakdown at the prospect of actually touching Mydei so intimately. He watches the pink hole twitch when he finally presses into Mydei, heat consuming him like creeping flames. Mydei is terribly cool, even on the inside, like the icy waters in the Curtain-Fall Hour, or the frosty breeze of Aidonia. A curious body temperature that should be slightly concerning. His ears are ringing, vision blurring—Phainon barely reminds himself to keep himself together, before Mydei realise that he's a pathetic loser who's close to coming just from looking at Mydei's reddened face.

His movements are messy and uncoordinated, but Mydei doesn't seem to mind. The tightness around his finger becomes more relaxed, Mydei's grunts and frowns shifting towards gasps of pleasure. Phainon's own cock is achingly hard against his thigh, already anticipating the feeling of Mydei around him.

Mydei can't keep his hands to himself when he's being pleasured, Phainon learns with undeniable glee. He's all over Phainon's scalp, neck, back with nails as sharp as claws. His voice is music to Phainon's ears, unabashed and breathy, as he squirms beneath Phainon. With his eyes glazed over and cheeks pink with exertion, Mydei looks like he came right out from one of Phainon's sexual fantasies.

The burning ache in his back barely registers in Phainon; he's entranced by the way his fingers glide in easily now, with the lubricant dripping down his hand and onto the sheets. Mydei has his arms hooked around Phainon's neck, legs hovering aimlessly and kicking at his sides.

"You're—hahh—more, I want—" Mydei hiccups and babbles, drool pooling at the corner of his lips. The marks on his chest glow scarlet as he arches his back, pushing himself against Phainon's touch. "Phainon, hurry…"

"You're so impatient," he manages to hiss through the tug of his hair. "Did you want to get fucked by me that badly? You can just ask instead of ripping my hair out."

Phainon pulls his fingers out with a wet noise, leaving Mydei to whine at the emptiness. "I did not want it badly. You're the one that was hesitant at the prospect about laying with me, despite your penis being erect all the time."

"That's—" Mydei's choice of words make him question his entire existence for a brief moment, with his hand slick with oil and dick left out in a lonely soldier. "That is defamation! I am allowed to be erect in my own room without having someone barging in!"

"Now that we are sharing a room, will I have to see you erect all the time?" With Phainon's fingers no longer bringing him to the verge of tears, Mydei returns to his snappish self. He looks ridiculous like this, bantering with Phainon while his legs are spread and his hole glistening and stretched out.

Phainon feels his dick pulse, and can only admit that Mydei might be right after all.

"Can you blame me? Most people would consider your body too erotic to be shown off as often as you do so." Palming his erection with his still-slick hand, Phainon lines himself up with Mydei's entrance, wincing at the peculiar cold that hits his sensitive tip. Definitely a concern to address, if Phainon were not so horny at the moment.

Mydei furrows his eyebrows. "Other people have seen my body?"

"Other people have seen your body?" Phainon sits up to stare at Mydei with disappointment.

"No?" Mydei blinks at him. "Are you putting it in or not?"

Phainon's shoulders loosen, completely forgetting his initial tension. "Oh, right. Yeah, putting it in now."

Leaving Mydei's legs over his shoulders, Phainon puts his free hand on Mydei's waist as he pushes into him. The expression of derogatory confusion turns into one of blissed surprise, a bit-off groan rumbling through the room when Phainon rocks his hips forward.

His fingers might have had the opportunity to explore Mydei's insides beforehand, but the sensation against his cock is nothing he could have expected. Mydei is tight around the head of his cock, wet and soft and piercing cold. He claws at Phainon's forearm, a tremble rippling through his body as Phainon tugs him closer.

"You're so pretty, sweetheart. Don't pout at me." Phainon grasps the underside of Mydei's knees, pushing them down before Mydei can kick him in the head. His lips are bitten red, a pinch of frustration in his expression when he's being held down without the ability to move freely.

As Phainon finds a proper rhythm, Mydei starts to run his mouth again. "I don't pout. Are superficial comments the only thing you know how to speak of during intercourse?"

Phainon must have hit the right spot, because Mydei cuts himself off with a moan. He finally manages to bottom out, Mydei's walls clinging to his entire length, pulsing and soaking wet. "Superficial? You think I don't mean it when I say you're pretty, Mydei? Should I tell you how often I get distracted because I'm looking at you?"

Mydei scoffs weakly. "That is because you are a degenerate. Your eyes must fail you."

With a roll of his eyes, Phainon swats him on the side of his thigh, before groping Mydei on the butt. Mydei has his arm over his eyes, small moans and gasps escaping his lips when Phainon takes a hold of his cock, pleasuring him simultaneously and watching him fall apart.

Phainon can barely keep his head straight, already dizzy from the waves of pleasure coursing through him. Watching and listening to Mydei is as potent as a drug; Phainon doesn't think he can move on from this, now that he knows how Mydei looks like beneath him. His grip tightens around Mydei's waist, as if he might possibly get up and walk away.

"Ah— Phainon, you—" Mydei is much more amicable when he's trapped in the throes of gratification, his glares as effective as a barn kitten's with tears streaking down his cheeks. "I'm close, c'mon—"

Letting go of Mydei's legs, he leans down to catch Mydei in another kiss while bracing himself with his hands against the bed. His voice is strained, clinging on to his last strands of sanity as Mydei clenches around him.

"Don't just—" Phainon does not whimper, though he doesn't sound too put-together even in his own ears. "Titans, you're trying to snap my cock off."

"You're… more useful with your cock on," Mydei mutters deliriously, barely coherent. He's shivering, grabby hands reaching for Phainon's shoulders to push him away from kissing at his neck. Moving back to give Mydei enough space to hook his arms around his shoulders, Phainon picks up the pace of his thrusting, fingers digging painfully into his sheets.

Phainon ends up coming before Mydei does, strung taut as the surge of heat rushes down his spine, burying deep into Mydei. In his haze, Phainon feels Mydei jerk forward, a bright cry resounding through the room.

The next time Phainon looks down, he's met with the most erotic sight of Mydei he could possibly imagine—abdomen stained with cum, generous chest heaving with every breath he draws, eyelashes fluttering while he's stuck in his stunned state. His instinct leads him into kissing Mydei all over, ignoring the weak protests of annoyance from under him.

"Get off already. It feels weird now." Mydei squirms and squirms, back to throwing his fit like a spoiled brat.

"Okay, okay! Let me pull out and you can wash up." Phainon finds himself still half-hard as he extracts himself from Mydei, mind already going for another fantasy of fucking Mydei into submission. "All satisfied with your consummation, sweetheart?"

In an astounding turn of events, Mydei blushes. "You just said we weren't married, so don't call it that. HKS."

"Huh? What does that—"

Before Phainon can finish the question, Mydei is getting on his knees and turning to face Phainon, before dropping his face down to Phainon's erection.

"Degenerate," Mydei says without any heat, before his mouth is on Phainon's cock.

Phainon isn't going to be the one to deny Mydei's allegations when he has something better to focus on. He pulls Mydei closer by the back of his head, and sink into the touch.

 

"I need to go now, Mydei."

"It's early," Mydei mumbles against his shoulder, face pressed into Phainon's neck.

Phainon's heart flutters when Mydei yawns against his skin, curling closer towards him. He'd love to stay in bed with Mydei for eternity, but Phainon has a job to do. "You know I have things to do, sweetheart. C'mon, we can go back to bed when we come back."

"So if I get enough of your stupid fish for you, we can go back to sleep?" Mydei raises his head with a scowl, one eye shut while he rubs the drowsiness from his face.

"It's the Month of Freedom, there's not going to be as much fish. But yes, we will." Phainon pulls away from Mydei's grip, huffing at the low whine of annoyance. His back still stings from the previous night, and having a second person sleeping in his bed is a completely new affair to him. Mydei's like an octopus, limbs going wherever he pleases in the middle of the night.

As he searches in the dark for some clothes, Mydei rolls over to the side of the bed, clambering off the mattress. "Fine, let's get it over with. I can't believe you prefer your stupid fish over me."

"I didn't say that?!" Phainon turns to gape at him, but Mydei is on his feet, stark naked and looking around the room.

"Where's my skin?" he asks while Phainon pulling a shirt over his head, still combating the lingering lethargy.

The question doesn't register until a hand swats him on the back, right over the scratches left behind. "Ow! It's still on the bed, isn't it? What do you need it for right now?"

"Do you always ask stupid questions before the Entry Hour?" Mydei huffs and digs about, before he stomps out of the room, leaving Phainon in his fabric-tangled state.

The temperatures outside are low enough to leave goosebumps on his skin, yet Phainon sees Mydei climbing into the boat, still bare. There's the weight of uncertainty in Phainon, wondering if he's still dreaming and has to wake up, before he stands firm in the understanding that Mydei has questionable habits he needs to curb. Fishing with a naked man might be the oddest experience yet, but he's had good enough of a night to ignore it.

Mydei is looking out at the sea with unusual focus for the time of the day, nose twitching as he looks over the boat. Phainon doesn't think too hard about it, manoeuvring towards their destination with ease.

He hadn't taken his eyes off Mydei for too long before he says, "Here we go, I'll—"

Phainon turns back around to look at Mydei, and looses all ability to form a coherent sentence. The animal pelt that was once in Mydei's lap is now over his shoulders, spotted grey fur gleaming silver as it shrouds him. Perhaps his eyes are deceiving him—the skin on Mydei seems to fuse with the inside of the fatty pelt, swathing him like a baby. The pelt seems to come to life, merging into Mydei like it belongs there, expanding further than it should.

Before Phainon can comprehend, can process what he just witnessed, Mydei takes Phainon's fishing net and dives into the freezing waters, head-first.

"Mydei?!" He leans over the side of the boat in his panic, nearly forgetting about keeping his balance. "Oh titans, what just happened…"

Mydei doesn't surface even after a few minutes, not even the slightest show of air bubbles. Phainon is torn between jumping in to search for Mydei and pinching himself hard enough to either wake up or pass out. The situation in front of him makes less sense the longer he thinks about it—Phainon doesn't think most human beings would be able to wear a sea creature's skin like their own, or stay underwater for such a long period of time, but what does he know. Mydei has always been someone who astounds him at every turn, to the point that Phainon feels like he shouldn't be surprised.

With his initial fright evaporating, he knows that Mydei wouldn't do anything he's unsure of, not when he's expressed his intention to laze around after. Probably. However, Phainon doesn't appreciate that he stole his fishing net and left without a word. He's left awkwardly staring down into the sea, like he can see through the unending darkness of the vast waters, waiting for Mydei restlessly.

There's the peek of Kephale's sunlight from the east, breaking through the skyglow, golden as the wheat fields and Mydei's hair. He knows it hasn't been too long—his usual trips out here would stretch through the Entry Hour, especially during the hotter season. Still, at some point between Mydei's disappearance and his uneasy wait, a sliver of dread creeps into him.

Maybe he should have gone after Mydei. Maybe he should find some help, even though it would take a while. It's irrational thinking, and Phainon should have learnt to shed those away by now, but his worry pounds in his chest like a mallet slamming against a bell. Mydei always has found ways to alight panic in him, but this would be his most deranged act yet.

The silence of the sea is cut by the smallest noises—a gust of wind, the cooing of birds. Phainon reacts instantly when he hears the breaking of the water surface, scrambling to look at the direction of the sound from a short distance away.

Now, Phainon might not have known Mydei for ages, but he's pretty sure that the man he's been fawning over isn't a spotted seal, a sea creature basically out of legends. It's nearly impossible to find such an animal in Amphoreus, let alone a place as warm as Aedes Elysiae.

The creature is swimming towards his direction, Phainon realises, as he's busy ruminating the habitats and temperatures of a sea animal he's never seen before. The fur is eerily familiar—a dark grey, with flecks of white—

By the creature is Phainon's fishing net, the net opening held firmly by its mouth. Seawater splashes everywhere in a cacophony, fish filling the net to the brim and trying to escape through the meshes to no avail.

"Mydei's got a pet seal?" is his initial thought, and the words that chose to come out of his mouth. It makes little sense considering the sight he just witnessed, Phainon quickly decides. The seal's nose twitches, bumping against the side of the boat and looking up at Phainon.

He takes the net with caution, wondering if he should try to pet the animal or if it'll bite him in his attempt. He hauls the net up onto the boat, slightly in awe at the amount of fish that ended up in it, even without any bait. The fish are certainly familiar, though Phainon has been struggling with catching them ever since the days have become warmer. They would have migrated deeper into the waters, where he wouldn't be able to reach.

With a surprising amount of strength, the seal leaps out of the water and lands on the boat. Phainon yelps, nearly dropping the net and allowing the fish to flop all over the deck. The creature's tail flaps in tandem, smacking the seat behind it.

"Wow, you're huge," Phainon can't help but say. He didn't think it would take up half the boat. "You didn't look that round in the water."

The next movement the seal makes feels like something out of a grim night terror that would make you wonder if you were cursed by a witch. The skin of the animal seems to sever into half, right down the middle, as if one were pulling apart the seam of stitched fabric. Phainon is mesmerised and repulsed all at once, watching fur and skin and blubber split apart down its belly, only to see—

Recognisable, unmarred skin, with scarlet streaking amidst it too cleanly to be blood. There's no flesh or organ or bone; Mydei inches out of the seal skin as bare as he first came, on his hands and knees and leaving nothing but a spotted seal's pelt behind him.

"I will throw you off your boat if you call me fat again," Mydei says scathingly.

Phainon drops the net and faints.

 

"I didn't hide anything from you."

"I'm sorry, was I supposed to know you were some sort of mythical creature?" Phainon had found himself at the shore of the beach by the time he returned to his senses, with Mydei smacking him in the face periodically in his attempt to wake Phainon up.

His first instinct was to look at the seal pelt that had ended up on his lap, as empty as he first seen it. No Mydei squeezed into it. Then he's hit in the face by a slimy fish, which helped with the realisation that's settling in.

"That's not what mythical means. There's dozens of us back home. Your fish isn't in the box." Mydei tosses the one that he's holding by the tail onto the dock, landing with a sad splatting noise.

Phainon splutters, looking down at his feet. "And thanks for helping with that! How would I have guessed that you meant that the pelt was yours in a literal manner?! I don't go around expecting people to be shapeshifters!"

"You found me on a beach and returned me my pelt. Shouldn't that itself inform you that I'm a selkie?" Mydei gets out of the boat without lending a single hand, leaving Phainon with his pelt and a boat full of dead or weakly flopping fish.

With the conversation ended, Phainon is forced to pick up the fish by himself and getting everything tied down. The seal pelt feels like a tremendous weight on him now—even if Mydei seems careless with it, Phainon knows that it has to be important to him. He doesn't understand why Mydei continues to leave it with him, when the pelt is supposed to be the only way he can return home, as it's told in tales.

With the ice box under one arm and Mydei's pelt slung over the other, Phainon walks back to his house, following the damp footsteps left behind by Mydei. His face feels hot for a reason he can't fathom, torn between hiding away from Mydei and clinging to him like he can't bear to let Mydei go. He lands on getting his chores done while Mydei hogs his bathroom, organising the haul that Mydei managed to pick up.

"Say, have you been bringing back fish while I was asleep just because I gave you back your skin?" Phainon finally drops the question when Mydei walks into the kitchen. Thankfully, he's properly clothed this time, leaning over to help with lunch.

"Hm. I thought you wanted me to do something with it, but it didn't seem like you wanted me to leave. I figured that meant you wanted more fish. It's easier for me to go out past sundown."

"Wait, what?" The spatula is abandoned on the pan, Phainon spinning around to gape at Mydei. "That's not what I meant! I didn't even know— I just thought you would want to keep it with you!"

Mydei nudges him to turn back around. "What happened to eyes on the fire? I didn't know that you didn't know. I gave it to you because you want me to stay. That's how it works."

"Thanks for the clarity on that, even if it's a little too late." Phainon feels a headache coming on, with the overload of information that's passed right through his head. "I'm not trying to force you to head out for anything, but I don't want to keep you here if it's ever against your will. Shouldn't you, like, want to keep your pelt?"

"You'll give it to me when I need it. I trust you." Mydei speaks so openly, nearly uncaring, if it weren't for the heart-melting declaration of love he just dropped.

Phainon could combust on the spot. It would likely be less embarrassing than what he actually does, which is stuttering and stammering like a starstruck fool while Mydei walks away to get the utensils out. "Yep, right, okay. Sure. Makes sense."

He doesn't overthink it—Mydei trusts him, Mydei doesn't mind letting Phainon hold onto his skin—and fails miserably. Without any experience in the romantic department besides Mydei, he can only think that this admission carries the weight of everything in the world.

As it turns out, Mydei is from a small island unmarked on most maps that his people inhabit. He's supposed to be from some line of royalty of selkies—that would explain his haughty behaviour, Phainon thinks—and he decided to take off for land to explore outside of the sea. His parents had berated him for it as soon as he returned, though their attitude took a turn when Mydei had mentioned wanting to stay on land that's inhabited by humans.

"So, it is a problem?" Phainon asks in distress, already deciding that he would wed Mydei at least three weeks ago.

Mydei pokes around at the cooked fish. "They won't mind as long as you leave a good impression. I'm an adult; I can make my own decisions."

"But you said you're a prince! Don't you have, like, duties to fulfil?"

"We don't put as much stock in such things like humans do. There are a few old traditions, but I won't be limited just because of my lineage." Mydei waves his spoon around. "I like being here. I like being out of my skin and putting fish over fire even if you don't need to and walking around on land. That's all that matters."

The lack of interest Mydei shows for his own being has Phainon frazzled. The man goes right back to eat after shaking Phainon's perspective on everything he's ever known, sitting in Phainon's kitchen just as he belongs.

"You're not going to eat?"

Phainon sighs. "You're a real piece of work. Please don't ever eat fish right out of the water in front of me."

"…I had a couple of snacks while you were asleep on the boat."

As long as Mydei is content with him, Phainon thinks that they'll be just fine.

Notes:

yes i'm alive.

twt: evrlaine