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out of sight (you follow me wherever i go)

Summary:

Phainon grins, walking up to the counter. “You’re not the first person to call me that, you know.” He tilts his head. “What’s your name? Mine’s Phainon.”

The man points to the name tag clearly displayed on his shirt. Mydeimos, it reads.

Well, that answers that. Phainon can feel his face warming up—or maybe that’s just the heat from the ovens he can see in the back of the shop—but he pushes down the embarrassment. “So, Mydeimos—do your friends call you Mydei?"

He places the last of the muffins on his tray before really looking at him. “Some, why do you ask?”

Phainon can feel the smile on his face grow wider as he leans forward, tilting his head just a bit. “Can I call you Mydei?”

/Or: Phainon falls head over heels for the guy working at the bakery.

Written for Phaidei Gotcha for Gaza!

Notes:

The prompt was really fun to play around with and I had a great time writing this! I hope you like how it turned out! <3

Special thanks to meathermac for beta-ing!

Title from “Afterlife” by Holding Absence (inspiration for Mydei's music vibes in the fic, hehe)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Phainon glances up at the sign. Kremnos Baked Goods… He hasn’t heard of it before it had been recommended to him, but Hyacine’s new girlfriend apparently says the sweets here are the best around. Sure, it’s a little out of his usual way into work, but he could really use a pick-me-up and might as well try it. He’ll be meeting Castorice for the first time soon enough—it’ll give them something in common they can start talking about, besides them both knowing Hyacine, at least.

So he opens the door and steps inside.

A bell tied to the door chimes as he enters. The bakery is a homey little shop, filled with warm colors and soft lighting, and practically empty for being a work day morning. A few small tables are scattered around the main part of the shop, the perfect sort of place to take a moment to read with a morning coffee on a weekend—Phainon can already picture himself doing just that.

The sweet smell of freshly baked pastries wafts through the air, and he can’t help but stop to breathe it in as his eyes scan the treats on display.

He already loves this place, and he hasn’t even tried their cinnamon rolls yet.

“Can I help you? Or are you just going to stand there?”

Phainon glances behind the counter, and his gaze lands on one of the most beautiful men he’s ever seen.

Piercing gold eyes look back at him as Phainon continues to stand there. The man’s sleeves are rolled back, giving Phainon a good look at his well-defined muscles and red-lined tattoos as he picks up a fresh tray of associated pastries.

Phainon knows he’s staring, so he tries to snap out of it with a laugh. “Are you always so blunt with your customers?” he asks, a teasing tone instinctively weaving itself into the words.

“Not all of them.” The man slides a few fresh muffins behind the glass display. “Just the ones that look like lost puppies.”

Phainon grins, walking up to the counter. “You’re not the first person to call me that, you know.” He tilts his head. “What’s your name? Mine’s Phainon.”

The man points to the name tag clearly displayed on his shirt. Mydeimos, it reads.

Well, that answers that. Phainon can feel his face warming up—or maybe that’s just the heat from the ovens he can see in the back of the shop—but he pushes down the embarrassment. “So, Mydeimos – do your friends call you Mydei?”

He places the last of the muffins on his tray before really looking at him. “Some, why do you ask?”

Phainon can feel the smile on his face grow wider as he leans forward, tilting his head just a bit. “Can I call you Mydei?”

Mydei raises an eyebrow, the corners of his lips turning downward, as if he’s pushing down a smile. “Sure, whatever you want.”

“Great!” Phainon stands up straighter, putting a little more distance between himself and the counter. “Then, Mydei, could I get two of your cinnamon rolls, please?”

“Sure. Extra icing?”

“Wow, we’ve just met, and you already seem to know me so well.” Sure, it’s probably a question he has to ask everyone, but something in Phainon wants to keep up this banter between them. Something about it all is fun, it’s nice—it just feels right in a way he can’t quite explain.

Mydei smirks at him as he grabs the sweet rolls and a piping bag of icing, swirling more on top of both of them. “You just seem like the type, that’s all.”

Now it’s Phainon’s turn to raise an eyebrow, and his curiosity gets the best of him. “And what do you mean by that, hm?”

Mydei carefully wraps up the rolls and places them in a paper bag. “Too sweet for your own good.”

If Phainon’s face was warm before, it’s definitely red now. “Huh?” He’s not sure if Mydei’s talking about the amount of sugar he likes to enjoy this early in the morning or if he’s actually answering the question, but even that room for doubt has him feeling more flustered than he thought he would.

Mydei moves over to the cash register, looking down at the machine—and not at Phainon—as he punches in a few numbers. “That’s seven dollars for both.”

Phainon lets his question go, pushing back into the corner of his mind as he taps his card against the reader. He’ll revisit this moment later, probably turning this interaction over in his head in the late night hours when he inevitably can’t sleep.

The payment goes through, and Mydei slides the bag over the counter. “There you go—enjoy.”

“Thanks, you too!” Phainon pauses, then laughs. “Ah, well, I mean—I’ll see you around.”

He doesn’t stop to look at Mydei’s face before he turns around and heads out of the shop, bells ringing as the door closes behind him.

Phainon doesn’t stop until he’s a few stores down and lets out a long, loud groan. He really just did that, didn’t he?

Well, at least he has what he came for in the first place.

Phainon takes one of the cinnamon rolls out of the bag—he’ll save the other for dessert at lunch, if it can last that long—and takes a bite.

The treat is perfectly sweet, the cinnamon icing complimenting the warm dough. He has to reach up with his free hand and catch some of the loose icing before it drips off onto the sidewalk – he doesn’t want to waste any of it.

Hyacine’s girlfriend really does have good taste—for many reasons, obviously, but definitely for the cinnamon roll recommendation.

Phainon is definitely going back there again. For the cinnamon rolls, of course.

Definitely just the cinnamon rolls.

From her seat on the bench outside of Okhema University’s Nousporists Center of Science and Research, Hyacine takes a sip of her iced coffee before glancing at the paper bag in Phainon’s hand. “So, I take it you like Cassie’s bakery recommendation?"

Phainon plops onto the empty space next to her, placing the bag between them. “Hey, listen–” Okay, so he’d gone back to Kremnos Baked Goods the next morning, and the morning after that… The whole week, actually.

And Mydei being behind the counter each morning was nice. He didn’t mention Phainon’s awkward slip up, which Phainon appreciated. They’d both fallen into their back and forth banter, and he’d finally gotten to see Mydei smile and hear him laugh, which turns out to be just as radiant as Phainon thought it would be–

The crinkling noise of Hyacine reaching into the bag and taking out one of the cinnamon rolls snaps Phainon out of his thoughts. She smiles at him, more of a smirk than a smile, but Hyacine has a way of balancing the energy of the two in her expression. “I’m listening.”

Phainon can’t think of a way to finish that, so he just shrugs. “...It’s a very nice place.”

Hyacine laughs, a sound just as sweet as the pastry in her hand. “I’m sure that has nothing to do with the guy who’s always working there in the mornings?”

Phainon glances over at her, tilting his head. “I never told you anything about Mydei.”

“You didn’t have to. Cassie already did.” Hyacine smiles as she takes a bite, grabbing a napkin from the bag to wipe the icing off her mouth. “Well, she didn’t tell me his name—she just told me that the guy who works there a lot of the time she’s in is pretty nice. From what she said, it makes sense he’s your type.” She shrugs, smiling again. “Good guy, good cinnamon rolls—seems like a win-win to me.”

Hyacine takes another bite, and Phainon’s trying to wrap his head around all that. “Wait a second—were you trying to set me up?”

Hyacine shrugs, still smiling, and there’s a twinkle in her eyes that Phainon’s never quite learned how to read just right. “You like a well-made cinnamon roll. I was just passing on the recommendation, just like a good friend would.”

Phainon is still trying to put together a response when Hyacine speaks up again. “Oh! Apropos of nothing, I’m going to send you some songs you should listen to.” She puts the rest of the pastry down on its wrapper, wiping off her fingers before she takes out her phone.

He tilts his head, watching her pull up her music and send him a few links. “Okay… Why, exactly?”

“He’s a friend of Cassie’s!” “Just a small artist right now, but he’s pretty good. He’ll be performing with a few other locals at this place Cassie and I like to go for theme nights like this—and I’m going to drag you with us.”

Phainon checks his phone, opening the links she sent over. “PoleMos600?”

Hyacine nods. “Yup! That’s his name. I’m not sure what inspired it, but–”

Exaggerated dromas noises suddenly start playing from her phone, and Phainon laughs. “Well, that’s certainly an interesting way to make music.”

She shakes her head at him, tapping a new notification on her screen. “No, that’s just one of my text alerts, silly.” Her eyes scan the message before she lets out a long sigh, glancing back up at the tower building next to them.

“Something wrong?”

Hyacine’s smile returns, just as easily as ever. “Apparently Professor Anaxa just caused another explosion in one of the labs… Looks like my lunch break is going to be a little shorter than usual today.” She stands to her feet, sliding her phone back into her pocket.

Phainon quickly wraps up her half-eaten treat and puts it in the bag with the other one—he doesn’t need it as much as she does right now. “Here.” He stands up, handing it to her.

Hyacine’s expression softens. “You don’t need to do that, really.”

He shakes his head, keeping his hand holding the treats extended. “Future you will thank you for taking it.”

She laughs, finally taking the bag. “You know, you’re probably right. Thanks, Phainon! I’ll see you around!”

Phainon waves as the doors to the building close behind her, then he turns back to his phone, glancing at the list of songs.

So, PoleMos600, huh…

Phainon isn’t sure what he expects when he starts listening to PoleMos600’s music, but it sticks with him easily. In quiet moments with himself, Phainon finds it’s becoming a new habit to slip on his earbuds and shuffle up his music.

Phainon’s not one to usually listen to rock with a heavier energy like this, but vocals draw him in. The way PoleMos600 plays with the lyrics feels a bit like poetry about a bunch of different topics—grief, getting back up again afterward, fighting injustice—that just feels real, feels right. The melodies are catchy too, and he finds himself humming them when he’s just lost in thought or doing chores around his small apartment.

And if he can’t help but think that PoleMos600’s voice sounds a little like Mydei?

Well, he knows it’s all in his head, but he indulges that too, just a bit.

He can’t stop thinking about Mydei, and it almost feels a little silly at this point. Their morning interactions on his way to work have become the highlight of his day, and he’s only known the guy for just a few weeks, he’s only been going there for that long.

This morning, Mydei doesn't even look up when the bell rings. Instead, he’s leaning on the counter, and his attention seems to be entirely focused on a small notebook in his hand. For a moment, Phainon simply stands there, watching as Mydei hums to himself, writing on the paper every so often.

Something stirs in Phainon’s chest, and he knows he’s probably got the goofiest smile on his face, but there’s no one up at the counter to see it except Mydei, and he’s too lost in his own little world to notice.

Phainon steps closer to Mydei, glancing over his shoulder at the words on the lined page. “Whatcha writing?”

He bursts into laughter as Mydei jerks away from him, pulling the notebook back as he scowls. “What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?”

“Give yourself more credit—it would take more than a little scare to take you down.” Phainon grins innocently, leaning closer to the counter. “It looked like poetry. Do you write poetry, Mydei? How romantic of you.” The last part slips out of him, and he hopes his smile doesn’t betray his real thoughts on Mydei and romance.

There’s no mistaking how Mydei’s face turns a little red as he looks away. “It’s—just, don’t worry about what I’m writing. I’ll… give me a second.”

Phainon can’t help but laugh as Mydei ducks into the back of the store, but another giggle echoes from behind him. He glances back toward the sound, and a woman who looks to be about his age smiles back at him from her spot at a table in the corner. An open laptop set before her, and a half-eaten croissant on the plate next to her… She must have been here the whole time, and Phainon had no idea.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

She waves her hand dismissively, tucking a strand of her long purple hair behind her ear. “Oh, it’s no trouble at all.” She pauses, then laughs again to herself. “It’s just funny seeing Mydei like this—he’s usually not so easily flustered.”

Phainon tilts his head. “I take it you know him well?”

The woman smiles. “I guess you could say that, yes.”

He doesn’t know exactly what to take away from that, but something doesn’t settle right in his stomach.

Mydei didn’t say anything about having a partner, did he?

Phainon isn’t sure why that thought bothers him so much, though.

Yes, the guy is witty, handsome, makes pretty good pastries, has a really nice smile—it makes sense that other people can see that in him too. Phainon couldn’t be the only person who walks in here with a functioning brain. Besides, Mydei has a life outside of his job too—one that Phainon isn’t privy to.

All of that’s fine—good, even.

So why does all that make Phainon feel… not good?

It seems like only a moment later that Mydei comes out from the back room, notebook nowhere to be seen. “Now that that’s out of the way, let me get you your rolls.”

It’s a quick affair after that – now that Phainon is aware they have an audience, he cuts back on the banter and lets Mydei ring him up without much of a fuss. Mydei merely raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t make any comments about it.

As Mydei hands him the bag, Phainon smiles as he takes it. “Thanks again, Mydei! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Mydei nods at him. “Looking forward to it.”

That sentiment almost makes him pause, but he really should get going. With a final wave, Phainon heads outside.

As the bakery door closes behind him, he hears the woman laughing again. “Mydei, is that the person you mentioned before? The one who–”

Phainon quickly turns his phone’s volume up, and the sounds of PoleMos600’s lyrics start flowing through his earbuds again, trying to distract himself. Of course, that’s a losing battle when the artist already reminds him of Mydei, but at least it’s something.

At least it sounds like he leaves enough of an impression on the guy that he talks about Phainon with people he’s close with. Phainon’s going to hope that’s a good thing. And he’s definitely not going to spend the rest of the day wondering what sort of things Mydei says about him.

Cause that would be silly, right?

Right…

Phainon’s still listening to PoleMos600’s music as he lays awake, staring at the ceiling in his bedroom. Shadows from the lights outside dance on walls, yet as his eyes wander, he’s too lost in his thoughts to really look at them.

It’s one of the softer songs he has on repeat now, not the heavy adrenaline beat that most of PoleMos600’s music carried—more suited for this hour, he thinks.

The melody is soothing, filled with emotion as the song swells with higher notes and that raspy undertone of PoleMos600’s voice.

Of course, it all just brings his thoughts back to Mydei.

Phainon knows he should probably try to work on eroding that association—it’ll be awkward when he finally meets this friend of Castorice’s and is like, Haha, everytime I hear you sing, it makes me think of this guy I have a massive crush on!

That scene in his imagination makes Phainon pause, blinking up at the ceiling as if he’s seeing it for the first time.

…Damn, he really does like Mydei like that, doesn’t he?

Now that Phainon thinks about it, it’s pretty obvious—the way he always wants to talk to him, the happiness he feels from throwing snarky comments back and forth with him…

He sighs, turning on his side as PoleMos600’s song loops back to the beginning.

Should he do something about it? Now that he’s finally figured out his feelings, he’s not one to just sit on them—and throughout their interactions, Mydei seemed at least amicable toward him and their banter. Maybe he feels the same way.

But how, exactly? And what?

Phainon turns again, this time to stare at the streetlights outside his window.

Well, at this rate, he’s going to have all night to turn it over in his head.

He should at least put in his earbuds, though—Phainon’s thoughts can be loud in a way he tries to drown out sometimes, but the neighbors’ complaints can definitely be louder.

Normally, Phainon steps into Kremnos Baked Goods with excitement and a smile, but this visit, he stops at the entrance, takes a deep breath as he steels his resolve, then opens the door to the shop.

Like the first time he walked inside, the bells jingle, and Mydei glances up from his usual place behind the counter, setting out the morning’s pastries. When he sees Phainon, that signature smirk lights up his face, and Phainon can’t help the butterflies that form in his chest at that look alone.

God, he’s hopeless, isn’t he?

“Good morning, Mydei.” The greeting comes easily enough as Phainon walks up to the counter, hands in his pockets.

“It is definitely a morning.” Mydei finishes setting out the various baked goods where Phainon knows they belong. “And how are you doing, Phainon?”

“Ah, I’m fine.” Nervous, but he isn’t about to say that.

Mydei gives him a long look before setting the empty tray down behind him. “Something wrong? Your comments aren’t as snarky as usual.”

Phainon laughs, though it sounds stiff in his own ears. “Ah, I’m fine… I was just wondering–”

Mydei chuckles. “You’re not changing up your order on me, are you? A man can only take so many oddities from you in a day. You’re usually so predictable.”

Phainon almost follows up on that, but he shakes his head. Stay focused. If he doesn’t ask now, he doubts he will. “No, two cinnamon rolls, just like always.”

“Good.” Mydei takes them out from behind the glass, adding the extra icing, just as he always does. “Now, what were you wondering?”

“I…” Phainon takes a deep breath. It’s now or never. “My friend and her girlfriend are going out tonight, and they want me to come along. Which is fine with me! But I don’t want to, ah, third wheel or anything, so I was wondering—want to come with? It… we could make it a double date.”

There, he ripped the bandage off. Phainon bites his lip as waits, watching for Mydei’s reaction.

Mydei looks up and stares back at him for a moment. Then his eyebrows furrow, and he sighs as he packages the pastries. “I can’t tonight, I’m… ah, busy.”

Oh.

Phainon knows enough to recognize a rejection when he hears one, even if Mydei is nice enough not to spell it out for him. Maybe Mydei’s just been humoring him this whole time—Phainon pulls himself back from that thought. He’s got no reason to doubt their interactions up to this point, and he’s not going to stand there catastrophizing every little thing, especially now, right in front of Mydei.

Phainon takes a deep breath, then plasters what he hopes is a convincing smile on his face. “No, it’s okay—it’s silly for me to ask like this.” He pulls his wallet out of his pocket, already opening it up. “That’s seven dollars, right? Like it normally is?”

“I… yeah, that’s right.” Mydei opens his mouth again, but after a second, he just moves to the register, punching in the numbers at what feels like the slowest pace Phainon’s ever seen him move.

“Perfect!” Phainon says with an energy he doesn’t feel as he swipes his card, grabbing the bag as he does so. “Well… I won’t keep you any longer. Have a good rest of your day!”

He waves over his shoulder as he moves toward the door. The bell sounds as the door swings shut, and he’s back in the open air again, his failed attempt to ask Mydei out behind him.

Phainon moves away from the entrance before putting his face in his hands, letting out a loud groan.

Ugh, that was… Well, it could have gone better.

Would it be weird to go back tomorrow morning and just pretend like that never happened? He does want to keep seeing Mydei, even if it can only be their small, silly interactions each morning over cinnamon rolls.

Maybe he can ask Hyacine for advice—after he meets her girlfriend. He doesn’t want to ruin his first impression with Castorice, after all.

He sighs again. He’s just got to get through the day, and then things will be better.

By the time evening rolls around, Phainon’s put the interaction with Mydei out of his mind – well, as much as he can, at least. Tonight, he’s going to enjoy his time with Hyacine and Castorice, listen to good music, and have fun.

Phainon knows how to put on a smile, even if he’s still not feeling great after everything that morning.

When he arrives at the place, a pretty relaxed bar and restaurant he’s been to with Hyacine once or twice before, Phainon spots her already seated at one of the tables, another woman next to her.

Wait, he knows that woman—well, recognizes her, anyway.

Phainon quickly walks over and slides into the seat next to Hyacine, giving them both a warm smile. “Hey! Sorry I’m late.”

Hyacine laughs, wrapping him in a side hug. “You’re fine! We just got here.” She looks at the other woman. “Cassie, this is Phainon.”

Castorice smiles at him. “It’s nice to officially meet you, Phainon. Hyacine’s told me a lot about you.”

Phainon tilts his head. “You were at the bakery, right? I didn’t get your name back then, but it’s nice to finally be able to put a face to the person Hyacine’s always going on about.”

Hyacine playfully pushes Phainon while Castorice laughs. “Well, I’ve heard a lot about you too—Hyacine and Mydei talk about you quite a bit.”

Ah, Mydei. Phainon’s smile dims a little before he brings it back to its usual radiance. “What can I say? He makes good cinnamon rolls.”

Hyacine and Castorice exchange a look, like they’re having an entire conversation with their eyes, before their gaze returns to him. Hyacine smiles again. “He certainly does.”

Before they can say anything else about Mydei or the bakery, Phainon steers the conversation away from that, asking Castorice more questions about herself—what she does for work, her side of the story on how she met Hyacine. They order their food and sit back, enjoying the food and the music as one artist after another steps out onto the makeshift stage in the corner. It’s a wonderful time, though he can’t help but think it would be nicer with Mydei here too.

He pushes that thought far down in his head, then turns to Castorice. “When is your friend going to be on? Hyacine showed me his music—he’s pretty good.”

Again, Hyacine and Castorice exchange a glance between them. “He’s up next, I think.” She smiles, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “I’m sure he’d be happy to hear that you like it.”

He tilts his head, about to ask what she means by that, when the current song ends, eliciting a wave of applause across the room. The musician smiles, giving the crowd a deep bow before grabbing her guitar and hopping off the stage.

The next person to take her place…

Castorice nudges Hyacine. “That’s him.” She nods at the performer plugging their electric guitar into the amps on the stage.

All Phainon can do is stare.

PoleMos600… is Mydei?

He watches the man as he strums the guitar, testing the sound. That clear note echoes through the room and Phainon’s otherwise empty skull. Beside him, he can hear Hyacine and Castorice giggling.

But he can’t take his eyes off Mydei.

Up on the stage, he’s dressed a lot more casually than Phainon’s ever seen him—the loose tank top shows off all the tattoos along his arms, and even the dip in the neckline shows off more lines that Phainon had never seen before. There’s an air of confidence about him too, not that he’d ever lacked that in the bakery, but here, it feels like Mydei is in his element, and it shows.

Mydei walks up to the microphone, extending it to match his height, before resting his fingers on the fretboard, already forming the opening chord. Those piercing golden eyes sweep over the audience, and Phainon can pinpoint the exact moment Mydei realizes he’s there.

Phainon’s gaze locks with Mydei, and he watches that familiar smirk form again on the artist’s face. Then he winks—he actually winks at him—before launching into his first song.

Hyacine taps the underside of his chin. “Close your mouth, lover boy. You don’t want to catch any flies like that.”

Immediately, Phainon picks his jaw off the floor, glancing at her. “I’m not—Well, maybe, but–”

Castorice interrupts him with a peal of laughter, muffled by the music. “Did you not know?”

“No?! How was I–” He stares at Hyacine. “Did you know?”

Hyacine gives him one of those unreadable smiles and pats his arm. “Must’ve slipped my mind.”

Phainon’s about to say something else, but then Mydei’s voice rings through the speakers—of course it’s Mydei’s voice, it’s so obvious now, how could Phainon not have realized earlier?—and all their eyes focus on him again.

He’s so vibrant when he’s up there like this, like he was born to be on stage, to command the audience’s attention and not let it go.

Phainon knows Mydei has his, in more ways than one.

It seems like Mydei does too, the way his own gaze looks back at him from up there. Every time he does, Phainon wants to laugh, feels that bubbly happiness in his chest, knows he’s smiling wider than he ever has before.

As the first song of his set ends, Castorice leans against Hyacine, glancing at Phainon. “Mydei really knows how to perform, doesn’t he?”

Phainon glances back on stage, meeting Mydei’s eyes again as he starts the next song.

“Yeah, he really does.”

After everything wraps up and people are starting to head out, Phainon tells Hyacine and Castorice to head out without him. The women exchange knowing looks, but they just wish him a good night before following other audience members out the door.

Phainon walks over to where Mydei is cleaning, back to him. “So you really were busy tonight, huh?”

Mydei turns away from his guitar and the cables he’s rolling up, and his eyes settle on Phainon. It seems to take a moment for Phainon’s words to sink in, and the singer smiles a bit sheepishly as he runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “Of course. I wouldn’t lie to you like that. If I just didn’t want to, I would’ve said that. I’m not that kind of guy.”

Phainon smiles, leaning in a little closer. “And just what kind of guy are you, Mydei?”

Mydei looks at him for a moment, then that familiar smirk forms on his face, and Phainon can feel his own smile growing wider just at the sight of it. “For one, I’m the kind of guy who’d rather have a first date at a different place than one of my gigs.”

“Is that your way of asking me out?”

Mydei laughs, leaning in closer. “You’re smart enough. What do you think?”

Phainon’s heart feels like it skips a beat. “I think I want to kiss you.”

The words are out of his mouth before he can really process them, but as they hang in the air, he doesn’t take them back.

The smirk on Mydei’s face changes again, growing almost soft, tender. “Then do it.”

Mydei doesn’t need to tell him twice.

Phainon is already leaning in, pressing his lips against Mydei’s.

Maybe he’s just imagining it, but Mydei tastes just as sweet as one of his cinnamon rolls.

Notes:

This fic was written for the Phaidei Gotcha for Gaza event!

Thank you so much for reading!! <3