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Phainon, for the first time in his life, is going to participate in proper domestic activities. Namely, cooking breakfast before his husband wakes.
Mydeimos could be the most diligent person in the entire universe when it comes to being the perfect lover. Cooking is just the start of it. On many occasions, he’s asked himself what he’s done to deserve such luxury, and has sworn to repay Mydei for everything he’s done.
His first step in this journey of fulfillment? Making breakfast.
Phainon wouldn’t say he’s the best cook in the world. Some things were picked up from watching his parents cook back in Aedes Elysiae, and he wouldn’t survive being Mydei’s husband if he didn’t know how to slap together at least the bare minimum, but peace has made him lax. Recently, either Mydei cooks for him or they eat out. He hasn’t exactly had the chance to exercise his cooking muscles. Standing in front of the stove, Phainon finds himself a little afraid. If he burns anything, alarms will go off, waking Mydei up.
Turning away from the appliance, Phainon beelines for something familiar and safe.
Sitting neat and pretty in their ice box is an assortment of vegetables. Some have been used already, with their leafy green leftovers left for future meals. Some are wholly intact, bursting with untapped refreshing taste and flavours typical of that food group. Because Phainon isn’t one to waste food, he takes the used vegetables.
Carrots, cucumbers, cherry tomatoes, lettuce leaves, and a singular lemon sits on his chopping board, ready to be sliced with his commission-made kitchen-knife-sized Dawnmaker used exclusively for cooking purposes.
Phainon quickly gets to preparing the salad, taking out Mydei’s favourite red plate and laying the leaves on it. The carrots and cucumbers are cut first, perfect circles scattered on the green base. Cherry tomatoes are cut in half so that each side is a long oval, then those ovals are cut in half again but diagonally, aligned in the salad to make cute little red hearts. He cuts the lemon whichever way he wants and drops every lemon piece in the center.
It’s art. Phainon is an artist.
Extremely happy with himself, Phainon saunters down the hallway to his and Mydei’s room.
Tucked under thick blankets lies Mydeimos, King of Castrum Kremnos and Phainon’s favourite person. His face is relaxed in sleep as he snores lightly, sunlight streaming in though the window, bouncing off of the drool slipping down his chin. He’s peaceful, looking so relaxed that Phainon kind of regrets waking him up.
If I’m gonna go out for waking him up, he thinks, why not go out with a bang?
Phainon sneaks over to his side of the bed and picks up a pillow.
Gently, so very gently, he shuffles across the bed to loom over Mydei, casting him in shadow.
“Mydeimos,” Phainon croons, eyes curving into crescents, “Wake up, my love.”
Thwack!
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
“Ugh…” Mydei groans. “Stop hitting me,” he complains. His bare hand comes to block Phainon’s next hit, then he rolls over to rest on his other side, covering his head with another pillow.
“But Mydei,” Phainon coaxes, “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Instead of listening to his husband, Mydei lays limp on the bed, as if sleeping. Phainon knows him, he knows that once Mydei wakes up, he doesn’t go back to sleep easily. An advantage on the battlefield. A disadvantage at home.
Mydei is hit with the pillow once, twice, three more times, and Mydei ignores each hit. Soon, after the tenth whack, something in him changes. Phainon watches as Mydei’s muscles tense, like a cat ready to pounce.
“Here, kitty kitty kitty,” Phainon laughs, raising the pillow high above his head.
He swings down.
Instead of hitting Mydei once more, his weapon is flung to the side by another pillow intercepting its path.
“Deliverer,” Mydei threatens, sharp teeth on display in a feral grin. One of his hands has moved to the side, having thrown the pillow, and Mydei’s head is turned to face Phainon. “You should know to never poke a sleeping dragon.”
Mydei picks up the pillow below him and gets up, lunging at Phainon ready to engage in proper pillow combat. Phainon, never one to back down, picks up another pillow. Thus begins their dance.
Mydei slams Phainon onto the bed with a pillow, Phainon rolls to the side and tries to smother Mydei with his pillow. In response, Mydei tries to grab Phainon’s pillow with one hand, but the use of only one hand leaves Phainon an opening where he can take Mydei’s own. Then Phainon has two pillows, and Mydei has none. Pecking Phainon on the cheek does the job of momentarily stunning Phainon, an invaluable window where Mydei can pick up the pillows that landed on the side of the bed from their first altercation.
Leaping back into action, Mydei charges at Phainon with the edges of both pillows in either hand, a double-up stack meant to push Phainon. Quickly comparing arm sizes, Phainon deduces that his hands would reach Mydei’s face before Mydei’s reach Phainon’s torso. Phainon’s own pillows are thrust out in defense just in time for Mydei to run directly into them.
“Caught you!” Phainon shouts victoriously, then yelps as Mydei topples him over.
Mydei growls, kneeling over his prone form. “This isn’t over, Deliverer!” Pillows slam down in a reversed recreation of Phainon’s actions earlier, each pillow-holding hand alternating which gets to take a swing at his husband.
Phainon laughs endlessly at the torment. In an attempt to retaliate, Phainon grabs one of the pillows when it comes down next, then he takes Mydei’s arm and swings him over his shoulder onto the bed, knocking a harsh huff of a laugh loose from the man’s lips.
Mydei attacks, then Phainon attacks, neither one backing down. Phainon causes Mydei to trip on the bedsheets, Mydei causes Phainon to wobble at the edge of the bed. Their arena is the mattress, battle runs through their weary bones, and their fight is their special way of declaring love.
Eventually, Phainon has Mydei laying flat on his back, sitting on his stomach triumphantly.
“Hello,” Mydei breathes.
“Hi,” Phainon responds, equally as breathless.
Mydei grimaces, “You have morning breath.”
“Do you yield?” Phainon ignores his comment.
Mydei sighs, abused pillows flopping on either side of him. “I yield.”
“Yes!” Phainon shouts, pumping a fist, “I won!”
“You won,” Mydei smiles, “That was a good fight, Deliverer.”
“And it didn’t take ten days!” Phainon beams, leaning down to get all up in Mydei’s face. “Are you awake now, Mydeimos?”
“Unfortunately,” he grumbles.
“Great!” Phainon cheers. “I have a surprise for you, so recover from your battle wounds and let’s go outside!” The white-haired man gets off of Mydei and stands next to the bed while waiting for Mydei to rise properly. Languidly, Mydei stretches, planning to stall as much as he can. He doesn’t want to get up at all.
Instead of starting another pillow fight, Phainon just grabs Mydei’s wrist and drags the other man outside.
“Deliverer,” Mydei starts, blinking at the spectacle on their countertop. “What is this?”
“I made breakfast!” Phainon says enthusiastically, too enthusiastically.
There’s a singular plate on the table. The lettuce leaves are soggy, the cucumbers and carrots were cut way too thick, and there’s a pile of lemon — skin and all — sitting right in the center of it. It’s the least appetizing dish Mydei has ever seen. Phainon is looking at it as if it were his child.
“Phainon.”
“Of Aedes Elysiae, yes, that’s me,” Phainon nods.
“...You don’t have a plate for yourself,” Mydei points out. Part of being a good lover is overlooking minor character flaws of his beloved, and pointing out other things. Things like completely neglecting his own needs.
“Oh.”
…It seems Phainon forgot entirely.
“Not to worry!” Phainon smiles, already heading towards the kitchen. “I’ll whip something up for myself right away!”
Because Mydei is such a doting husband, he stops Phainon.
“I’ll make breakfast for both of us,” Mydei cuts in. “You look exhausted — you woke up early to make this, didn’t you?” At Phainon’s nod, Mydei goes over, patting him on the head like a dog. “You did well,” he smiles. “Thank you. I’ll savour it.”
Phainon seems to glow at the praise. Mydei kisses him sweetly before heading to the kitchen, intent on preparing a breakfast that doesn’t look like a small-portioned vegetable nightmare.