Chapter Text
Really, it wouldn’t have killed Mydei to be a little less of a bleeding heart.
Having now committed to dancing with Khaslana, his schedule had gotten even busier. On top of drafting the new constitution for Castrum Kremnos, he now had to schedule dance lessons AND extra practice sessions. The toll was growing as he got home as late as Phainon had- or at least, as late as Phainon used to come home.
Nowadays, Mydei would reach home at 9:30, while his husband would arrive at 10. It was getting absurd; both of them were clearly exhausted after their long days, and while Mydei was able to cook a few things before he started his day, he was getting overwhelmed.
It was for that reason, then, that he found himself in front of the gate to National Amphoreus University at 12 pm on a Tuesday.
‘There is NO chance that his work can’t be done at home,’ Mydei grumbled, storming through campus and drawing many curious looks. ‘What the hell are they doing to him?’
If memory served Mydei correctly, his husband was currently employed as a history professor. It really was just a memory, because Phainon never spoke about work except for his initial description. Their relationship had completely frozen since Mydei’s dance classes had started, which the prince had mixed feelings about. On the one hand, he wasn’t trying to fall in love with his husband or anything, which Phainon made exceptionally easy with how little he refused to share about himself. It was as though he feared any awkward statement would send Mydei straight back to Castrum Kremnos. On the other hand, however, it was getting terribly awkward to not know anything about the man he was now spending the rest of his life with.
And it was for that reason that Mydei, a 28 year old man, was now stranded in the middle of a college campus with no clue where he was going.
None of the buildings seemed particularly… history-ish, but what did he know? Castrum Kremnos’s schools far surpassed the buildings in front of him; why should he pay attention to inferior design? The Kremnoan language didn’t even have a word for architecture.
‘There must be someone I can ask. Some sort of info desk, or perhaps a tour guide…’ Mydei pondered, searching around. ‘Otherwise, I’ll get—’
“... Aren’t you Phainon’s husband?” a monotone voice spoke behind him.
Resisting the urge to leap into the air with fright, Mydei calmly collected himself and turned around to make eye contact with one green-haired man decked in attire far more ornamental than one ought to wear on a daily basis. The briefcase he carried, as well as his weary expression, meant that this man was probably associated with the university in one way or another. There was something strangely familiar as well, but Mydei couldn’t place it.
“And you are?”
The man scoffed, rolling his eye before declaring, “My name is Anaxagoras. I am a professor at this fine institution. We met at your party last week, although it was a rather one-sided greeting. I take it you’re here to see Phainon?”
“Ah, yes,” Mydei replied, pulling out his wallet and displaying Phainon’s business card. “His office number is listed here, but I don’t know where the building is.”
“You wouldn’t have found him there regardless,” Anaxagoras responded, gesturing for Mydei to follow him as he walked away. “Come, I’ll take you to him.”
Given that he had no other choice, Mydei followed the professor, noting that students were now giving him an even wider berth than when he was alone. That… probably didn’t mean anything. The pair strolled through the campus with students dodging the professor nonstop, as though he would pin them down and force them to take a brand new exam from hell. Mydei hadn’t cared much for school, especially because all of his teachers were particularly strict with their crown prince in the same way he imagined Anaxagoras would be.
“How much longer until —”
“Professor Anaxa!”
Anaxagoras groaned, and made no attempt to hide his annoyance as he turned to face a trio of pink-haired women, all looking at him expectantly.
“You know full well,” Anaxagoras began, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That I am to be called Anaxagoras. Not Anaxa, not Naxy, Anaxagoras. As my teaching aide, Hyacinthia, you ought to set an example.”
“Only in the classroom, professor!” Hyacinthia replied eagerly. “Everyone’s waiting for you. We were sent to help find you — Aglaea didn’t trust you to come.”
“Is that right? Then I suppose I shall have to have a word with her. Students, this is Mydeimos. He’s Phainon’s husband.”
If the look on their faces was any indication, it was the first time they’d heard this information. Looking up from her camera, one woman began, “Phainon’s husband— wait, what? I thought—”
Her sentence never made it far as the other two quickly slapped their hands over her mouth, their grins trembling as they attempted to have it reach their eyes.
“You thought what, exactly?” Mydei asked, squinting with suspicion.
“That Phainon would be forever single, obviously,” one of the other women responded, elbowing the first fiercely. “Isn’t that right, March?”
“Yyyyeah!” the girl known as March replied. “Phainon’s such a dork, Cyrene should know. They grew up together!”
That was a first. Phainon had never mentioned much about his childhood; then again, it wasn’t like the man was eager to share anything about himself. It had taken three weeks for Mydei to find out that Phainon actually hated hummus, and was eating it out of obligation.
Allowing himself to be led along, Mydei followed the trio as they discussed animatedly about Cyrene and Phainon’s past, detailing adventures only children could dream up and stories that were only possible as fantasies. It was… nice, hearing that his husband wasn’t a blank-faced robot at all times.
Making their way into what looked like a grand library, Mydei followed Anaxa as the professor stormed through the halls, breaching crowds of students with the force of lightning splitting a tree. He came to a stop in front of a door with his name imprinted onto a plaque, tossing it open and declaring, “We’re here. Aglaea, what lies have you been feeding my teaching assistant now?”
Scattered around the room were a variety of… curious individuals, to say the least. Mydei recognized Cipher and Castorice, cuddled up in a giant beanbag, but some of the others escaped him. He assumed the woman Anaxa was vividly arguing with must have been Aglaea, but it seemed rather stale, as if they were going through a routine. Indeed, Anaxa had already handed a lunchbox to Aglaea, who accepted it without hesitation and began patting the table next to her.
Feeling a tap on his shoulder, Mydei turned to meet Cyrene, who whispered, “They’re married, but you’d never guess based on how they fight. We’ve been telling them to go to therapy, but they’re both so stubborn.”
“Oh.”
“I really hope they don’t have kids,” March sighed, throwing herself onto the beanbag. “Cipher, Mom and Dad are fighting again.”
“I can’t stop them, leave me out of this,” Cipher grumbled. “What’s up, Prince?”
“Hello, Cipher. Where’s Phainon?”
“Ugh, you two are the exact same, always talking about your husband. He’s almost here, chillax. Have you met everyone?”
Ignoring Cipher’s comment about Phainon, Mydei allowed himself to be dragged along as he was introduced to the group. The couple in the corner introduced themselves as Cerydra and Hysilens, a pair of marine biologists.
“Well, Hysilens is a marine biologist, Cerydra’s just her funder, which makes this super awkward,” Cipher said. “But they’re not too bad, or else we wouldn’t let them in here. You’ve met the pink trio, so next up is Dan Heng!”
Flipping through a thick textbook, the mentioned man looked up and waved briefly before returning to his work. He was studying some form of law, by the looks of it, something Mydei had never enjoyed during his princely studies.
“He’s not very fun, but Hyacine likes him, so I put up with him. They’re dating, it got super messy for a bit ‘cause of March there — but I’ll let one of them tell you that story!” Cipher finished with a thumbs up. A ‘ping’ sounded, drawing her eyes to her phone. Quickly tapping at it, she declared, “Deliverer boy is here. Actually, he’s—”
Before Cipher could finish her sentence, the door flew open, revealing a mess of white hair, hidden behind a stack of Xianzhou takeout boxes. He greeted his companions with boisterous cheer, navigating his way through the crowded room with ease as he dropped off each person’s food, before finally coming towards Cipher and Mydei. Quickly checking the contents of one of the final boxes, Phainon proudly handed it off to Cipher and declared, “And now, lunch time! I am starving — Mydei?!”
“Greetings, Deliverer. Living up to your namesake, I see,” Mydei chuckled. “So this is why you didn’t bother making lunch this morning.”
Phainon spluttered out various objections, fighting off Cipher’s laughs as he did, before finally landing on, “You always make your own lunch! I just felt like eating out today, that’s all…”
“Relax, relax. I’m not here to yell at you. I’m here to yell at your boss.”
“Wh — sorry? What for?”
“Phainon, you don’t get home until after I do, and I’ve been getting home very late,” Mydei explained, looking around the room to meet everyone’s eyes. “You can’t have that much work, and even if you do, it’s not healthy. Come home for once. You don’t even have to spend time with me, but this isn’t going to work for either of us if it keeps up.”
The room fell silent, as Mydei had forgotten this conversation was a bit too personal for a crowd. The pink trio were on the edge of their seats, as evidenced by March literally falling out of the couch they were sharing. Dan Heng had finally looked up from his book, and Castorice was… writing furiously in an elaborate purple notebook.
Phainon, on the other hand, looked as though he was a deer caught in headlights. Mydei didn’t think his request was so outlandish that it warranted that reaction, but perhaps that was just how Phainon worked. Not having regular conversations did make it hard to read someone.
“Well well well, I suppose this is a problem for me to address,” Anaxagoras interjected, leaving his place next to Aglaea to approach Mydei. “You see, I am Phainon’s boss, and yes, it is necessary for him to work such horrific hours. Of course, this is not my doing; no, I am a generous boss who would rather see him go home — Hyacinthia, cease your giggling at once — and most of his work is due to his bleeding heart’s desire to personally provide each student with an overly detailed reparations plan if their essay falls short.”
That was news to Mydei. Still…
“Don’t worry,” Aglaea said, pointing her chopsticks at Anaxagoras. “I’ll make sure my husband helps Phainon with this work to get him home as soon as possible to his own husband. It can’t be long now, Phainon only needs to be more honest about things, instead of hiding his true thoughts about the subject to spare someone’s feelings.”
Grumbling, Anaxagoras could do nothing more but nod in agreement at Mydei. Unfortunately, the last man who needed to agree with this proposal hadn’t said a word, instead choosing to mimic a statue. He supposed that this fear response was normal, given how no one else had said a word.
“I need a response, Phainon. Please try to be home, ok? I have to go to Castrum Kremnos briefly to speak with Krateros, so I’m skipping my practice,” Mydei explained, accepting the takeout box being thrust upon him by Hyacinthia. “I’ll see you at 7.”
“O— ok. I’ll do my best. See you later.”
“Rough day?”
“It’s my husband. He’s being a moron.”
Mydei grumbled as he continued scratching his quill onto the papers in front of him, multiple textbooks scattered around him in haphazard fashion. Drafting a constitution was no easy work; he didn’t want to leave any gaps that bad actors could take advantage of, nor oversights that failed to benefit the people. There was no doubt that these things would happen anyways, but that didn’t warrant sloppy efforts.
“I can’t believe you chose him. He’s such a pushover, absolutely nothing like my type,” Mydei said, resting his quill on the table and fixing his gaze onto Krateros. “He hardly speaks to me, how am I supposed to do anything? I’ll go mad if I stay with him, honestly.”
“He wasn’t supposed to be like that,” Krateros said apologetically. “Frankly, he wouldn’t stop talking about you. Always going on about your political achievements, your academic successes, your philanthropic contributions… there was no doubt about his admiration, at least.”
“Then why did you choose him?”
“He was the most promising of all the candidates. It sounds like he took a 180, but in our discussions, he seemed the type to fiercely protect that which was close to him. And his own intellect wasn’t bad, he put up strong arguments in our debates.”
“...It occurs to me that I never asked you how you staged these interviews. What the hell did you put him through?”
Krateros smiled, stood up from his spot across from Mydei, and strode across the room to whip the curtain off of a massive chalkboard. In front of the duo lay a massive scoreboard, with the names of what must have been all the candidates to marry Mydei. The columns listed various criteria, including financial status, academic prowess, and…
“Hand to hand combat against you?!” Mydei yelled, grabbing Krateros by the collar. “Did you seriously fight them? Are you insane?!”
“Talking a lot for somebody who refused to help find his own temporary husband,” Krateros said, grabbing Mydei in return. “Besides, you love to spar! Why should I not have chosen a man who was skilled enough to challenge you? How was I to know he’d shut himself away from you?”
“I — you — that’s not the point!”
“And? It is as we have known; Phainon was meant to be a stable option while you sorted yourself out. At the time, he was clearly in love with you, so perhaps that’s what’s holding him back! Just talk to him!”
Faced with such a convincing argument, Mydei could do nothing but remain silent, releasing Krateros as he returned to his seat. It was as the man had said; he’d have to somehow convince Phainon that he wasn’t going to vanish. If Phainon had a thing for him, so what? Mydei had no obligation to reciprocate. He’d make that clear, and then their relationship could progress as platonic spouses. At least, until someone better showed up…
‘Mydei partner!’
Mydei shook his head. Khaslana had no place in conversations about marriage. Certainly not because his confidence was attractive, nor the way he stood up for those he called his friends, nor his strange determination to improve to impress Mydei…
No, their relationship meant nothing at all.
As if he had tempted fate itself, Mydei’s phone rang, lighting up with Khaslana’s name plastered across its face. Krateros shot him a look of confusion, which Mydei waved off as he picked up and said, “Hello?”
“Mydei partner! What’s up?” Khaslana’s voice rang out, exceedingly cheerful. “You busy?”
“Not particularly. Listen, I told you we can’t practice today, right?”
“No no, I know! But see, a new food stall just opened up near the baths, and I’ve heard that they have some amazing gyros. Let’s go get some!”
“Khaslana, I have to go home today —”
“Come on, it’ll be fine. What could be more fun than spending time with me?”
Mydei considered his choices carefully. On the one hand, he could go out and enjoy some (supposedly) amazing food with his dance partner, basking in the hustle and bustle of Amphoreus. Or, he could go home to Phainon, who may or may not be home on time, and would probably remain silent all night anyways.
The choice seemed pretty clear.
“... I’ll be there. I’ll see you later.”
“WHOO! I’ll pick you up from your home in 30 minutes then!”
With that exclamation, Khaslana hung up, leaving Mydei to text his husband and inform him of the change.
That was easier than expected. Phainon wasn’t so far gone as to ignore him over text, at least. Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Mydei let out a sigh. It was probably going to be a long night.