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By all accounts, Mydei was someone that Phainon should have definitely stayed away from.
You see, when Phainon was young, his village was attacked by the Black Tide. This, everyone knows. The townspeople were warped into cruel monsters, begging him for mercy as he plunged his sword into them… Safe to say, it was not a pretty sight. In fact it was incredibly scarring to live through… in more ways than one.
When someone lay steeped in that much energy from the Black Tide for days on end, unable to visit the cleansing waters of the Chrysos Baths, one becomes… affected. No matter how great of a natural resistance they harbor.
Phainon had come out the other side changed. With sharp, blackened nails, elongated razor sharp canines, and a burning bloodlust buried deep within him. He’d found that he possessed a terrifying level of self-healing, though he was never brave enough to test if he was truly immortal. In the beginning, the light of the sun would scorch his skin, leaving him to travel only at night and seek refuge in the shade of trees and broken buildings.
Nowadays, this far into the flame-chase journey, there was no true sunlight in Amphoreus. At least, nowhere Phainon’s missions sent him. The dawn device in Okhema sent unpleasant burning tingles across his skin, but nothing more. Certainly nothing visible, and nothing he couldn’t just put on a smile and ignore. He regularly filed his nails down into blunt rounds, applying a clear nail polish to give the appearance that they were simply painted black.
Meanwhile, that… hunger within him could only be sated by drinking the blood of another. Normal food made him violently ill, and even animal blood could turn his stomach. It had to be human blood, though red or gold it didn’t matter.
Aglaea was the only one aware of the true details of Phainon’s… curse. In those early days, when he was only 14, he’d wandered in a daze, barely keeping himself from sinking his teeth into human flesh, from draining anyone dry. He was so hungry in those early days, and it felt like his composure was held together with fraying string. He’d found himself wandering into Okhema, drawn by the smell of life flowing through the walls. The Goldweaver herself had stumbled upon him just as he’d finally lost his fragile composure.
Phainon snapped back to himself when he felt threads cinch his limbs, holding him in place, bound like a prisoner.
Like a monster.
The man he’d attacked lay on the ground, covered in blood, still sluggishly dripping from the wound on his neck. Blood dripped from Phainon’s own mouth, and he couldn’t stop himself from licking it clean. He was so hungry, it wasn’t enough-
“Speak, creature. Why have you attacked a citizen under the protection of the Holy City?” She asked, her tone curt and cold.
He writhed, baring his teeth. His stomach was twisting itself in knots, he was absolutely starving- He’d do anything just for another taste, the rich blood soothing the aching hunger he’d never even consciously acknowledged until now. The threads pulled tighter, and he choked on a cry of pain.
“Speak.” She repeated, unseeing eyes narrowing.
“I- I’m sorry, I-” He stuttered, some form of humanity coming back to him when suddenly faced with someone willing to speak with him. “I’m so hungry, I didn’t mean to-” He rambled, tears slipping down his face. He’d stopped struggling, though his hunger hadn’t lessened at all.
“You do realize this man is already gone?” She said, her voice dangerous and cold. “You murdered him.” She stated bluntly, and more tears flowed down Phainon’s face.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m starving, please, I can’t-” He rambled, until the threads loosened, no longer painfully tight.
“You’re still human.” She observed. “Human, yet cursed with a remnant of the Black Tide. You require…” She said, leaning forward and cupping his face as if she were inspecting it. “Blood. Human blood.” She said. Shame curled in Phainon’s gut, and he rambled more apologies.
Her sightless eyes flicked to his wrist, where her golden thread had just barely sliced his skin open. Golden blood beaded at the wound, and she frowned.
“A Chrysos Heir…” She muttered, somewhat mournfully. She tilted her face towards the man on the ground, then back to the boy in front of her, who appeared much more sane than he had just a few moments earlier. “…Afflicted with such an illness…” She continued softly.
“What is your name?” She asked.
“Ph- Phainon.” He gasped, tears flowing down his face.
“Phainon. Allow me to take you to the Twilight Courtyard. We’ll see if we can perhaps… reverse this malady.”
He nodded shakily, before he was unceremoniously dropped to the floor, the threads releasing their grip on him all at once. He spared a glance at the corpse beside him, slowly growing cold on the stone floor of the alley. The sight and scent of blood nearly made him snap again, itching to drive sharp teeth into tender flesh. His attention was pulled by a hand on his face, gently guiding him to meet sightless green eyes.
“I’ll get you more later. It will be from a reputable source, one you won’t have to feel guilty over. This, I promise.” She said. Phainon found himself willing to believe this strange, yet terrifying lady. “This man will be given a proper burial, and your name shall be kept out of it. I will do my utmost to ensure you receive the care you need.” She said. He nodded.
He wondered when her view of him had changed from a wild monster to a sick boy.
They would soon discover that there had been no way of reversing what had been done to him. The only detail the physician, a student of the grove named Hyacine, was allowed to know, was that he was partially corrupted by the Black Tide. She discovered that he was stable, and at no risk of turning fully into a monster. But that he could not be turned back fully human again, either. In a last ditch attempt at retaining at least some of his humanity, Aglaea had made him try eating human food, and he’d spent the rest of the day extremely ill.
Since then, Aglaea had been sourcing human blood for him to consume, delivered to him in neat little bags for him to drink in the safety and privacy of his chambers. He didn’t ask where she’d gotten them, but he figured she’d gotten them from the blood stores of the Twilight Courtyard. He knew she was better than to be underhanded with this sort of thing, and he knew she wouldn’t have lied to him about it.
With a steady supply of blood, he was… stable, at the very least. He could be that shining picture of the perfect Deliverer, without fear that he’d suddenly snap and drain the nearest civilian dry.
But the scent of fresh blood never failed to make him twitch with want.
Mydei was someone who did not hesitate to injure himself in battle. He was immortal after all, with an absolutely ridiculous pain tolerance. If he needed to get stabbed a few times to win a fight, well, he’d try to avoid it if possible, but wouldn’t hesitate if there was no other way. While Phainon did his utmost to hide his curse, Mydei had no reason to conceal his abilities. In addition, something about Mydei’s blood in particular smelled intoxicating, and Phainon wanted nothing more than to taste.
But he was better than that. He bit his tongue, held his breath, did whatever he needed to to not be tempted by the scent of Mydei’s golden blood before the Chrysos Heir healed. And it worked. Mydei was none the wiser to Phainon’s internal struggle, and Phainon was able to keep a solid lid on that bloodlust buried within him.
Their spars were a wonder to experience, each hit sending sparks through Phainon’s blood. He felt alive in those fights, moreso than he had since he was 14, freshly corrupted by the Black Tide. When he came a bit too close to winning, his instincts pushed him to bite, to claim his victory by finally getting a taste of that blood. Sometimes, it took everything in him to pull away.
But he was managing.
It was still incredibly stupid to remain around the prince, all things considered. But Phainon didn’t exactly have the best track record when it came to not making dumb decisions. So, despite every logical instinct in him telling him to stay away from the man, he stuck by his side. Their banter brought life to Phainon’s dull days, in a way nothing else could. So he selfishly stuck around, even though he knew he was playing a very dangerous game.
One wrong move could reveal the harsh truth: That Phainon was indeed a monster of the Black Tide, so very like the creatures he had pledged to destroy.
He had always known he didn’t hold himself in very high regard. Even before his form had become tainted, corrupted, stained as it was. There were times where he’d lean against his bathroom sink, looking himself in the eyes in his mirror as he bared his sharp inhuman fangs.
“Monster of the Black Tide.”
He’d whisper, voice dripping with self-loathing.
He’d become very good at hiding just how much he hated what he’d become, even to Aglaea, who knew everything.
He was fine. He was the perfect Deliverer. His façade could not crack. Even if it meant neglecting his health more often than not, putting on a brave face to pretend he was alright with who what he was.
Phainon looked at his teleslate as it pinged at him, seeing a new message from Aglaea requesting his presence at the gates of the city for a mission. He sighed, setting his unopened blood bag to the side. He hadn’t eaten in… more than a few days, which he knew was bad, but… He was just so busy lately. Though even he knew that was a weak excuse… And now, here he was, about to skip again because he knew Aglaea would hand his ass to him if he was late.
Gathering his things, he promptly made it out the door, leaving the unopened blood bag behind without a second thought.
Once he reached the gates, ignoring the rumbling of his stomach, he found only Mydei there waiting for him. Jogging up to him, he waved in greeting.
“Hey there, Mydeimos. Is it just us this time?” He asked. Mydei nodded curtly, his toned arms folded across his chest.
“There are still a few stragglers remaining in the ruins of Dolos from the refugee encampment we found a couple of weeks ago. Aglaea tasked us with bringing them to safety.” He said. “There’s not very many, but a resurgence of the Black Tide was spotted heading for the area, so we need to move fast. Thus the need for only the two of us.” He explained swiftly, turning on his heels and heading out of the gates towards their transport Dromas. Phainon nodded in acknowledgement as he followed.
It didn’t take them long to reach the ruined city, and it took them even less time to begin loading up the stragglers. They were.. surprisingly easy to convince of the danger, and were ready to head back to safety. Maybe they could sense the danger on the horizon, or maybe the people of Trickery could easily tell truth from lies.
Just as they were loading up the last couple people on their Dromas, one of them suddenly shouted.
“Wait! Where’s Anansie?” The little boy leaned over the side of the Dromas, looking around frantically.
“Is there still a group in there we missed?” Mydei asked, alarm in his voice.
“I’ll go back in for them! Mydei, you stay here with the refugees!” Phainon called, already turning and running back into the city, which was quickly being overrun with monsters.
“Like hell I’ll let you go in there alone, Deliverer!” He shouted, and Phainon heard thundering of heavy footsteps. He turned around to see the Dromas taking off with the civilians, carrying them to safety while the two Chrysos Heirs plunged back into the city to find the remaining people.
“What are you doing!?” Phainon asked in alarm, dodging corroded arrows as he mentally traced every path they hadn’t checked.
“Following you! I won’t let you get yourself killed!” Mydei bit out, ripping an arrow out of his shoulder and carrying on running.
Turning the corner, they suddenly found themselves at a dead end. They were inside a temple of sorts, one they’d thought had another exit on the opposite side. The groans of monsters could be heard outside, strange clicking and almost glitching noises emanating from the corroded creatures.
“Damn it!” Phainon called, rushing to turn back around. The building gave a heavy groan, and he could barely react before Mydei crashed into his side, pushing him out of the way of a massive cave-in.
They both went tumbling, sending Phainon’s brain reeling. By the time he recovered, raising himself on two arms, the noises had all ceased, leaving eerie silence.
Blinking heavily, coughing dust out of his lungs, he blearily looked around.
He was… unharmed. So was Mydei, in fact. They’d separated during their tumble, and it seemed that the cave-in had driven away the monsters.
It had also left them completely trapped.
“Shit, shit, shit-” Phainon muttered, scrambling to his feet and trying to push aside the rubble.
“It’s no use, Deliverer.” Mydei’s voice rasped from behind him, before he coughed as well. “That’s not moving without a whole excavation team. We’re stuck here for now.”
Phainon sagged, his face laying on his hands where they’d frantically clutched to the stones. There was no way- They couldn’t be trapped, not like this-
The smell of Mydei’s blood hit him and he nearly doubled over with how strongly he reacted. He hadn’t eaten in days- He was growing hungrier than he could manage, and if he was to be stuck in here for days more with Mydei, he-
He didn’t know if he’d be able to control himself.
The thought sent a pit of icy dread through Phainon’s stomach, cold sweat beading on his neck. There was no way. There was- there was absolutely no way. There had to be a way out of here, there had to be-
“Deliverer.” Mydei called, interrupting Phainon’s frantic search. “It’s no use. Don’t exhaust yourself.”
Says the one who’s not about to lose his shit with hunger! Phainon angrily thought, before internally cursing. His bloodlust always became harder to manage when deep in black tide territory, and he knew that. He should have just grabbed that damn blood packet this morning instead of risking this stupid situation-
Now he was stuck, starving, having to smell Mydei’s blood-
Then it hit him. Mydei would have healed by now. The blood should have been dried, covered by the scent of dust from the cave-in. He… He really shouldn’t be able to smell it from here. His stomach sunk as he realized he truly had reached the point where he could smell someone’s blood through their skin. He swallowed roughly as he imagined the early days, the situation he was now stuck in- the scent wafting to him tantalizingly to tempt him to sink his teeth into tender flesh.
He bit his lip roughly to stave off the ache in his teeth.
Titans, he didn’t know if he’d make it a few hours in here, much less however many days it took the others to realize they were missing and get them out.
“It’ll be alright.” Mydei called. “Stop freaking out already.” And his voice only made Phainon more painfully aware of the lifeblood in the room with him, his stomach turning itself in knots and his teeth burning with need. “I didn’t know the great Deliverer was claustrophobic.” Mydei attempted a joke, and Phainon heaved a weak, obviously fake laugh.
“I’m fine. I’m great.” He bit out, still leaning against the rubble, head against his arms.
“That wasn’t a denial.” He said, and Phainon carefully didn’t mention that he’d rather die than explain what was actually wrong with him.
A long moment passed as Phainon desperately tried to get ahold of himself, trying and failing miserably. Finally, sounds of rustling could be heard, as Mydei finally stood up. There were footsteps, and Phainon’s stomach sunk even further as he realized the prince was coming closer.
He bit into his lip harshly, feeling blood spill down his chin at the action.
“The hell are you doing, stop that-”
“Stay back.” Phainon all but growled, in a tone far more dangerous than he’d intended as he pulled away. It worked, shocking Mydei into taking a step back. Phainon squeezed his eyes shut, clamping his teeth into his lip again. No fucking way was Mydei going to back off after that little display, no sir.
“You’re hurting yourself.” Mydei said carefully, and Phainon only bit down harder, breathing heavily. Mydei made a choked-off noise at the action, like he wanted to yell at him to stop, but swallowed down the words at the last second. Phainon’s heavy breathing certainly wasn’t helping, the scent of Mydei, of life, of blood, overwhelming his senses.
He gave one last desperate glance at the pile of rubble, trying to mentally calculate how much strength he’d need to move it all, and- He wouldn’t have enough. Even on a full stomach there was no way he could get them out-
Fuck. He thought, closing his eyes and leaning his head back on his hands. He was going to have to explain, wasn’t he? There’s no way he could rationally explain his behavior as anything other than the truth- and hell, maybe the truth would actually get Mydei to back off.
Just as he was actually considering the insane idea, Mydei spoke up again.
“What’s going on with you, Deliverer? You’re acting more like a caged animal than a Chrysos Heir right now.” He said, still thankfully not stepping closer. When Phainon opened his eyes, he could see just out of the corner that Mydei had a hand raised halfway, like he wanted to reach out but was stopping himself. Phainon huffed bitterly, a mirthless smile finding its way onto his face.
“I certainly feel like one right now.” He breathed, hands clenching where they rested on the rock.
“Talk to me, Phainon.” Mydei said, his voice softening in a way it never did. Phainon’s heart clenched as his face pulled into a frown unwillingly. “What’s going on with you?”
Shakily, Phainon took a deep breath. He couldn’t believe he was actually about to say this, but-
“...When I was a kid, my village was attacked by the Black Tide. I was… the only survivor.” He said, and he knew Mydei knew that much. “...Thing is, you don’t face all that alone and come out… unaffected.” He said, pausing as he swallowed roughly. “I was… partially corrupted by the Black Tide. I’m… not human anymore, Mydei. At least not entirely.” He said, his voice almost a whisper.
“It gets… harder to control myself when I’m in the thick of the Black Tide like this. Like some part of me recognizes it and wants to lash out. Then there’s also…” He trailed off, turning his head away. “..When I haven’t eaten in several days.” He added pathetically.
Mydei was silent for a very long moment, processing that information like a bomb had just been dropped in front of him.
“...You’re serious.” He said, disbelieving.
“Yes.” Phainon said pathetically.
“You’re actually serious. You’re somehow half corrupted?” He asked, bewildered.
“More like… a fourth…” Phainon offered weakly.
“Are you going to get any worse?” Mydei asked, suddenly serious.
“No.” Phainon said firmly. “I get… regular checkups. I’m stuck like this. Exactly like this. No getting worse, but…”
“No getting better.” Mydei finished. “So you’re… struggling right now.” He said, unsure, and Phainon weakly nodded. His teeth still ached, and with how close Mydei was to him, it was taking almost everything he had just to remain civil and not fucking jump the man like a creature starved. He bit into his lip again and Mydei tersely sighed.
“You said it gets worse for two reasons. When we’re in the thick of things like right now, and when you haven’t eaten for a while. Knowing you, that second part is also true right now, correct?” He asked dryly.
Phainon winced, and weakly nodded. Sometime while Mydei was talking, Phainon had unconsciously relaxed his bite, and he could feel that ache in his teeth flaring again. He bit out a sharp breath, before quickly biting down on his lip again.
“HKS, stop doing that-” Mydei said sharply, pitching forward and Phainon jerked, an aborted movement both towards and away from Mydei as his instincts flared. He might have even made a noise, but he wasn’t sure.
He bit down harder with a gasp through his teeth, the pain distracting him enough that he could stumble a couple steps away, turning his back to Mydei and resting the side of his arm on the rubble pile to help him stay standing. His breath came in heaves as he fought with himself, and blood still steadily dripped from his lip, running down his chin and dripping onto the floor.
There was the sound of a single footstep as Mydei moved backward in shock, clearly off-put by that little display.
“You’re… still in control of yourself, right?” He asked carefully.
Phainon managed to remove his teeth from his bottom lip to bite out a rough, “Barely.”
Without a word, Mydei turned and walked away.
Phainon found it was a bit easier to breathe without the scent of Mydei’s blood so cloying in the air around him. The temple was a spacious one, even with it half caved-in, so there was plenty of space for Mydei to walk away and sit against the opposite wall.
Phainon easily took the chance to move the last few steps towards his own wall, turning and sliding down it to sit on the floor. Leaning his head backwards, he closed his eyes and tried to breathe, focusing on the scent of dust and debris rather than blood. His own blood was odorless to him, so he knew what he was smelling had to be Mydei’s.
They sat there for several hours, waiting as Phainon desperately tried to reign himself in.
Phainon could feel Mydei’s eyes on him the entire time, likely thinking through their every interaction and trying to match it with the struggling, half-monster in front of him. He knew he’d done a good job of hiding it, of acting wholly human, pretending to be what he was not. He knew this must be one hell of a revelation for Mydei.
Still, Mydei was taking it all… surprisingly well, all things considered. He wasn’t trying to kill Phainon yet, so he’d consider it a win.
Finally, after about… four hours had passed, and Phainon was nowhere near close to being stable again, Mydei spoke.
“I’ve noticed you’re never around for mealtimes.” He spoke carefully, his words measured. “Aglaea makes excuses for you, so that means she knows why. And obviously you eat something given how you said this only happens when you’ve been without, but the question is… if you don’t eat human food, then what exactly is it that you do eat?” Mydei asked, his voice non-judgmental. Phainon swallowed roughly, his head still resting against the cool temple wall.
When Phainon didn’t answer, Mydei spoke again. “Let me rephrase. Would it help you if you ate something?”
Phainon frowned, dreading having to answer.
“...Probably.” He finally said.
“Then can you answer my original question?” He asked. Phainon resisted the urge to bite his lip.
When a few more moments of silence passed, Mydei sighed. “I can’t help you if you’re gonna be difficult, HKS. Unless I know what to prepare for you, I can’t do anything.”
Phainon bit out a sigh.
“Blood.” He said. “Human blood, specifically. Happy?” He said bitterly, squeezing his eyes shut, dreading the disgusted response from Mydei.
Mydei was quiet for a few moments, thinking. Phainon’s dread only grew, mentally preparing for the worst, not daring to hope for the best.
“I’ve noticed, when we spar, sometimes your gaze lingers on my neck.” He said, and Phainon’s stomach dropped. Apparently, he.. hadn’t been as good at hiding things as he thought he’d been.
“You get this look on your face like you want to sink your teeth into me.” Mydei continued. “I thought it was just some weird kink of yours at first, but… You’ve wanted to taste my blood for a while, haven’t you?” He asked softly.
Phainon winced. Guilty as charged. Mydei could obviously tell the answer from Phainon’s face alone, as he barreled on.
“So what’s stopping you?” He asked, and if Phainon’s heart could beat, it would have stopped right then and there. He clenched his hands into fists, and Mydei continued.
“I can’t die, remember? I’m pretty much the only one you can drink as much as you want from safely. I can tell you want to.” He pressed. And Phainon did, he really did want to, but-
“I don’t want to hurt you.” Phainon whispered miserably, still resisting the urge to bite at his lip. How could Mydei not hate him for all of this? How was he okay with this?
“HKS, if you really think you can hurt me, you’re in for a surprise. I’m not that weak.” Mydei countered. “Besides. I’m offering.” He said, his voice taking on a slightly softer tone. Still, Phainon’s instincts were at war with each other.
“Look, if you’re gonna sit there suffering for however long it takes them to get us out of here, what’s the point? You yourself said you’re barely hanging on right now. Why not just.. get it over with?” He said. Phainon’s lip wobbled.
“That shouldn’t- That shouldn’t be a reason why-” He tried, and Mydei interrupted him.
“What if I want you to? Idiot, what if I want you to take care of yourself, no matter what?” He asked, his voice completely serious. Phainon… didn’t have a rebuttal for that.
“But…” He weakly tried.
“But nothing. Now get over here and stop torturing yourself.” Mydei said, voice growing impatient.
Phainon still didn’t move, still and trembling as he leaned against the wall. He couldn’t- He couldn’t make himself do it, couldn’t let himself harm Mydei like that-
He heard a huff from across the room, before there was rustling and the sound of footsteps. Before he knew it, his head was being pulled in to meet a bare shoulder. He stiffened with a bit-off gasp, not breathing at all to prevent that tempting scent of blood from meeting his nose.
When Mydei spoke, it was soft, somewhat,, caring. “I can tell by how much you’re fighting this that you won’t hurt me. Even if you did, I wouldn’t care. It’s alright.” He breathed. He was still holding a mostly frozen Phainon to his neck, not letting him budge even an inch in the wrong direction. “Just let go. Take what you need.” He murmured.
Phainon grit his teeth, trying one last time to pull away. Finally, he couldn’t hold his breath any longer and sucked in some air, bringing with it the scent of blood, of life right under his nose. He shivered involuntarily. Mydei’s words floated through his head as he fought with himself, his control stretched paper thin. “It’s alright. Take what you need.”
Titans, he wanted to. He couldn’t even tell if that thought came from his own rational mind or the echoes of the Black Tide within him, but he ached, a pit in his stomach from how hungry he was, from how much he wanted.
Finally, he let go of rational thought and sunk his teeth into Mydei’s neck, right where the scent of blood was strongest. The man let out a sharp gasp above him, bit-off as to not spook Phainon any further. Pulling his teeth out, he attached his mouth to the vein and drank eagerly, feeling the rush of blood coat his tongue.
Mydei tasted- amazing. Like pomegranates and iron, like strength and strife. Phainon couldn’t get enough. Hungrily, he lapped from the flowing wound, that golden blood soothing his frazzled nerves.
Through all of it, Mydei simply held him, cradling his head with one hand, and his other arm wrapped around his waist.
“That’s it.” He murmured. “Take as much as you need.”
Phainon was too busy drinking in that gorgeous taste to murmur a reply, too lost in his own instincts to even be fully conscious of the murmured encouragement.
For Phainon, it felt like hours before the buzz in his mind faded, before he felt even somewhat sated. Somewhere along the way, Mydei shifted, pulling them- somewhere. Phainon protested with a whine, latching himself onto Mydei desperately as the other pulled away. He was barely conscious of the noise, and even less of the way Mydei guided him back to his neck, allowing him to resume. There was only the flow of golden blood, more delicious than any stale blood pack Aglaea could ever provide.
Finally, Phainon felt like he could breathe again, could think clearly again, and he pulled away. Mydei was leaned against the wall, cradling Phainon against him. The prince’s face was scrunched with what looked like pain, and he was frighteningly pale. Phainon winced, but before he could say anything, Mydei’s eyes blinked open.
The prince reached a hand up, swiping a bead of blood away from Phainon’s mouth.
“I am alright. Don’t worry about me.” He reassured, and already, some color had returned to his face. For once, Phainon was inclined to believe him. Glancing down, he could see the wound on Mydei’s neck was still bleeding sluggishly, golden blood dripping ever-so-slowly down his collarbone. Phainon wiped it away almost reverently as the wound healed itself shut.
“Are you feeling better?” Mydei asked, some strength returning to his voice. Dazedly, Phainon nodded.
“You taste… amazing.” He breathed, resting his head on Mydei’s shoulder, face angled towards his neck as Mydei’s long hair tickled his nose. He could no longer smell the scent of blood through his skin, could only catch a whiff of the drying blood crusted on his neck, already turning stale in its scent. Opening his mouth, he lightly scraped over skin with his fangs, just wanting another taste.
“If you need more, don’t hesitate to take it.” Mydei spoke above him. Closing his mouth, Phainon sighed, pulling back as shame curled in his gut.
“You… how do you not see me as a monster?” He asked miserably.
Once more, Mydei’s hand reached up to cradle Phainon’s face.
“To me… You’re still the same Deliverer I’ve sparred with for days on end. Still the same idiot who dodges taking care of himself,” He said, pinching Phainon’s cheek for a moment, “still the same bastard who put sugar into my milk powder, and still the same Deliverer who brings an unfortunate amount of light into my life.” He said, his gaze deadly serious. “I don’t care if you require different sustenance than the rest of us. I don’t care if you’ve been scarred by the Black Tide. You’re still you. Even in the worst of it, you still managed to control yourself such that I had to force you to feed. How could I see any of that as monstrous?” He said, his voice softening.
Phainon sighed, leaning his head into Mydei’s hand as tears formed in his eyes. He’d spent-- so fucking long, only seeing himself as something to hate, something to fear, that-- he didn’t know what to do with this gentle care, this acceptance.
Pulling him back in, Mydei led him into an embrace, and Phainon shakily returned it. After only a moment, he pulled away, sniffling.
“I’m just all sorts of a mess today, aren’t I?” He joked. Abruptly, he realized he was still practically sitting on Mydei’s lap, and slid off of it to sit beside him instead.
Leaning his head back, he sighed.
“...Thank you.” He offered, and Mydei huffed.
“Just don’t torture yourself like that again. If you need more, hell even if you just want more, don’t hesitate to ask.” Mydei said, voice almost stern in his care.
“But… why?” Phainon found himself asking, the swell of emotion in his throat threatening to break his voice. “Why would you… do that for me?” He asked, giving Mydei a long, searching look. Mydeimos couldn’t look him in the eyes, staring at a cracking mural on the far wall.
“...Mydei?” He asked, his voice small, unsure.
Mydei sighed, closing his eyes. “You mean a lot to me.” He finally said. “Like I said, I don’t care if you’re not entirely human. I just don’t want to see you suffer.”
“Did you just admit you care about me?” Phainon teased, desperately grasping at a sense of normalcy, and Mydei shoved him roughly.
“Of course I do!” He scoffed, though Phainon could tell he wasn’t angry.
“Of course you do.” He echoed softly, mind spinning, leaning against the prince and resting his head on his shoulder.
After a long moment, Phainon finally spoke up. “We’re… friends.” He began, unsure. “Is that… all you want to be?” He asked. “You said I mean a lot to you. ...I hope I’m not overthinking that.”
Mydei was silent for a long moment, contemplating his answer. Finally, he responded with a question of his own. “Is that all you want to be?”
Phainon was silent, gently biting his lip without breaking skin this time. “...No.” He finally answered. “...But only if you’re alright with that.”
With a released breath, Mydei shifted to sling an arm around Phainon’s shoulders, the fabric of his toga rustling with the motion. “I am. You’re not overthinking it.” He confirmed, and Phainon relaxed somewhat.
He felt a soft kiss be pressed into his hair, and he almost purred at the motion, a small smile finally blooming on his face.
He sighed, staring up the dull ceiling above.
“How long do you think it’ll take them to get us out of here?” He asked.
“A few days, likely. We don’t have cell reception this far out, and it might take our Dromas some time to make it back to the city. After that, they have to realize we’re missing and send a rescue team after us to dig us out. And that’s if they don’t take long to find us in the labyrinth of a city.” Mydei said, and Phainon frowned. Mydei squeezed his arm. “Are you going to need to eat again by then?” He asked.
“...Possibly. Fresher blood lasts me longer than the packaged stuff Aglaea gets me.” He said, still reeling at the idea he could talk about this so casually, still struggling to process the idea that Mydei knew and didn’t hate him for it. “If it’s more than… three days, I probably will.” He finished. He could feel Mydei nod above him.
Sitting up, Phainon sighed. “What about you?” He asked. Mydei gave him a look of confusion, and Phainon furrowed his eyebrows with concern. “What food could we even get for you down here?”
At that, Mydei relaxed, the confusion fading from his face. “I have some rations on me. I require less food than a normal person to function, so as much as I have could easily last me a week.” He said.
“So we just… wait?” He asked. Mydei scoffed.
“What else do you think we could do?” He asked. Phainon shrugged.
Suddenly, he shivered, the cool of Evernight seeping through the temple walls and stealing away what little warmth he had. Mydei always ran like a furnace, so he hadn’t noticed as much when he was leaned right up against him. Mydei sighed at the action, pulling him back in. Phainon resisted the urge to nuzzle into the warmth.
They stayed like that for a while, before Phainon spoke up.
“...Hey Mydei?” He asked. Mydei hummed in response, his eyes closed as he sat in some approximation of meditation.
“...Can I kiss you?” He asked, and at that Mydei huffed a surprised laugh.
“You don’t have to ask, Phainon.” He said, his smile colored with mirth.
That was all the permission Phainon needed to reach up and connect their lips together, sighing into the kiss as he finally got everything he’d been wanting from the man. The taste of his blood, and the taste of his lips, Phainon was almost on cloud nine.
Finally, they broke apart, and Phainon leaned against him once more. Mydei huffed.
“You taste like blood.” He said dryly, likely an attempt at a joke, and Phainon scoffed.
“I wonder why.”
As he leaned against his fellow Chrysos Heir, he was… content. Despite being trapped in the ruins of a temple far away from the Holy City, he was actually quite content. It was… unfamiliar. Mydei pulled him a little closer, pressing another kiss into his hair.
“When we get back to the city… allow me to court you properly.” He said. Phainon smiled.
“I’d love that.”
It took some time, but eventually they both became tired. They found some cloths and pillows stashed in a dusty corner of the temple, and set up a small place to rest for the night. Once everything was set up, they sat together against the wall again, not quite ready to turn in.
“...I hope they’re not too worried about us.” Phainon murmured, and Mydei sighed.
“They trust us, and our capabilities. They know we can take care of ourselves, to a certain degree.” He affirmed, and Phainon let out a breath. He wished there was some hole in the ceiling, as he’d love to see the stars right now.
“Speaking of…” Mydei said, voice becoming somewhat dangerous, before he pinched Phainon in the side. Phainon yelped, jumping backwards with offense. “How could you go so long without eating, HKS!? Especially when you are well aware of what hunger does to you!?” He scolded, and Phainon scrambled backwards to avoid getting pinched again.
“Mydei, Mydei, I’m sorry, okay- I’ve been busy!!” He defended.
“Not too busy to neglect your health!”
“Technically that would be a lack of action rather than making an action, which would mean that you wouldn’t need spare time to do it- okay, okay Mydei stop giving me that look I’m sorry-” He rambled, holding his arms up in front of his face to shield himself from the prince’s fury.
There was a heavy pause, before Mydei huffed, leaning back against the wall.
“Just don’t do it again, HKS.” He grumbled, and Phainon relaxed somewhat.
“I will… try not to.” He offered, and he knew that Mydei understood that was the best he’d get from him. Nothing was certain, and sometimes things happened that couldn’t be avoided. But the promise to simply try was meaningful alone.
“Good.” The prince huffed.
When it came time to turn in for the night, they opted to share one bed, rather than sleeping alone. To Phainon, it felt like safety. Like acceptance, and grace.
Closing his eyes, he drifted off in peace.