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To anyone who knew of the two Chrysos Heirs' regular spars from word of mouth only, today appeared to be just another one.
To most other citizens of Okhema, it was clear that something had upset the Deliverer. And it had something to do with the Kremnoan prince.
Unfortunately for said prince, he had no idea what he had done to upset his Deliverer. Normally, they sparred with blunted or wooden weapons. This time, when he arrived at their usual rooftop, Phainon was holding Dawnmaker, a blank look on his face.
The Deliverer had barely given him a chance to take off the caps that blunted the tips of his claws before lunging at him.
The only sound was their heavy breathing, echoing and so very loud in the silence. No matter what Mydei said, Phainon didn't respond. No matter the taunt, the goad, his face stayed stone still.
Mydei's words had trailed off, the first realization that he had done something.
The next, and more damning, one was Phainon's lack of reaction when his broadsword cut a thin line across Mydei's chest.
First blood was always the end of their spars.
Except Phainon didn't stop swinging. He didn't even look like he saw the wound.
Phainon had never tried to kill him before.
But now each swing was aiming to kill. It was all he could do to dodge the murderous swings. One strike would carve open his flesh and shatter his bones.
He’d seen it happen to one unlucky Cleaner, the last time they had tried to interfere in one of their missions.
Each slam of blade against metal echoed, the sounds of the market below them hushed, as if the citizens didn’t want to attract the attention of the angry Deliverer.
Mydei blocked another strike, feeling his blood slid down his face. Gritting his teeth, the prince finally admitted that the only way he was going to get answers was to make Phainon speak.
He waited for the right moment, like a lion on the hunt, trading blows with his equal.
Hit. Block.
Hit. Block.
Hit. Block.
Hit. Block.
Except this time, Mydei felt Dawnmaker catch on the ridges of his gauntlet.
In the Sea of Souls, Mydei remembered a sea beast covered in wicked ridges. It used those ridges to catch again the scales and weapons of the other sea life, ripping them off with a sharp twist of it’s body, leaving it’s prey defenseless.
When Chartonus had forged his first gauntlets, Mydei had been reminded of that beast. Over time, the prince had learned how to twist like the beast, tearing weapons from the hands of his enemies and striking quickly.
It was that skill he used now. Normally, Phainon would have too good of a grip for the trick to work. Normally, Phainon wasn’t driven by anger.
Mydei’s arm lashed out, flinging Dawnmaker across the rooftop. The already quiet market went even quieter, whoever was still there making themselves scarce.
The prince lunged, tackling Phainon to the ground, starting a fierce struggle. They were equals in many ways but in strength, Mydei just barely held the edge.
In return, Phainon was ever so slightly quicker. As they were, it was a question of if Mydei could hold on to Phainon before he slipped out of his grasp.
Some part of him screamed that if he didn’t solve this now, he would lose his Deliverer.
“Enough!” Mydei snarled, slamming Phainon into the tiles hard enough to crack some. The other man struggled for a few more heartbeats before conceding.
Blue eyes, normally as clear as sunlit skies, now dark with storm clouds, glared up at confused amber. Mydei searched, trying to see some sign of what had upset Phainon, but found nothing.
"Enough," quieter, without loosening his grip too much, Mydei shifted to straddle Phainon's waist, "Tell me what I have done, Deliverer. What makes your heart burn with anger?"
"You—!" Phainon stared, stuck speechless, "You— you stopped!"
"Stopped what, Deliverer?" Phainon tossed his head to side with another weak wiggle before giving up.
"You stopped… you stopped your courting."
"My courting?" Mydei repeated, utterly confused, "What courting?"
The moment the words slipped from his lips, Mydei knew it was the wrong thing to say. Hurt welled up in his Deliverer's eyes, his struggles renewing.
He only had a few moments before Phainon escaped.
"I have not begun my courting yet."
Phainon froze, half free of the prince's hold.
"What?" Disbelieving yet hopeful, Phainon whispered so quietly it was only due to his own enhanced senses that Mydei caught it.
Mydei carefully released one hand and cupped Phainon's face. Gently, like a chimera, Mydei stroked his cheek with his thumb. Phainon leaned into it, staring up at Mydei, waiting for his answer.
“Yes. I wanted to ensure that I would not cause offense. I know Kremnoan and Okheman traditions differ greatly.”
Phainon laughed, the clouds breaking and his delight shining through. Mydei finally recognized what he had been hiding underneath his anger, the hurt and pain from being considered ‘unworthy’ by someone he cared for deeply.
“Oh, Mydei,” he smiled up at the prince, a delicate blush spreading over his cheeks, “We are both fools, aren’t we? I… I asked around when I saw how some of the Detachment were staring at us after our spars.”
Mydei shut his eyes, a blush of his own roaring to life. He had not been anything approaching subtle in the beginning, the constant sparring a clear sign to any with even a passing knowledge of Kremnoan courting of his interest in the Deliverer.
It should be no surprise that Phainon asked. He could be oblivious to some things, but never the eyes of others on him.
And of course his people had told him. Mydei had spent a long time convincing them that if he was unavailable, Phainon would do his best to solve the issue. There was no reason he couldn’t be trusted.
“It appears so,” Mydei said. Even as the embarrassment burned, the sound of Phainon’s laugh drew him to look at the other man. The beauty of his happiness made his heart swell until he couldn’t stop himself.
Mydei kissed him.
Phainon’s lips were petal-soft against his own. Some part of Mydei had expected them to be chapped from the amount of times he had caught Phainon chewing on them. He moved against him, gently coaxing him into responding.
Time slipped by them.
They could have been on that roof for hours, trading gentle kisses, if not for Phainon starting to push for more.
He tugged Mydei’s lower lip in between his teeth, nipping lightly. Mydei glared at him, not pulling away, even as that mischievous light grew brighter. His clever tongue pressed against his captured lip, like he was going to try and slip it into Mydei’s mouth.
Gold eyes narrowed, the only warning Phainon received before a hand slipped into his hair and tugged.
Phainon gasped, mouth parting open wide, granting Mydei complete access. The prince wasted no time, his own tongue plunging inside and tangling with Phainon’s. Blue eyes rolled back, hands scratching at his exposed back.
Mydei didn’t stop, even as Phainon’s legs wrapped around his hips and his muffled moans turned into whimpers. He only let up when Phainon went limp under him, arms failing from his shoulders and legs slipping back down to ground.
“Have you learned now,” he purred, his breath washing over Phainon’s gasping mouth, “to not goad a lion?”
Competitiveness sparked in Phainon’s eyes, “And what is the lion planning to do about it?”
“You asked for it,” Mydei growled, pressing him even deeper into the tiles. Phainon managed one more breathless laugh before his world was consumed by Mydei, Mydei, Mydei.
Needless to say, Aglaea was rather displeased to find the two of them still there several quints later, pressing the limits of public decency.