Archive of Our Own ^beta

Moving to a new place was always a hassle. Boxes stacked upon boxes, bubble wrap that stretched for miles, old clothes used for padding because even with what seemed like an endless bubble wrap, there was, in fact, an end to it. Shocking.

And then, of course, there was a nightmare that was unpacking.

Eurypon, already numb after five hours of dealing with what felt like ten thousand candelabrums, looked at the tenth box that was moved into their house. It stood innocently in front of a dark oak door, as if Eurypon wasn’t contemplating the most efficient ways on how to set it on fire.

He was exhausted.

Eurypon took a deep breath, forcing his frayed nerves to settle down. Gorgo was irritated already and he was not about to test the limits of her patience. She was the one who organized the whole affair and was now saying goodbyes to the movers, the least he could do was to get started on the whole unpacking process.

He opened the box he was eyeing for the past few minutes. An endless string of curses immediately followed.

“You cannot be serious right now,” his voice rose, cracking with disbelief. “Gorgo! Who the hell needs so many candelabrums?”

Fucking candelabrums.

“Mydeimos loves them!” answered his beloved wife from the house threshold.

“Mydeimos is six! He can live without three boxes of candelabrums!”

Smile twitching, Gorgo finally closed the door to their house and stomped to the living room where her husband was going through nine circles of hell. Stepping around the paper, the bubble wrap and was that her old dress? What the hell was it doing here, acting as a padding for, Gorgo looked closer, for kitchen’s supplies?

Who even packed this?

“What is your issue?” she asked, coming upon Eurypon sitting in the middle of their new living room, surrounded by cardboard and the shattered remains of his will to live.

Eurypon pointed at all the boxes, silently asking do I even need to explain it?

And well… She kind of understood the hysterical tone now.

Gorgo probed silently at the second box that Eurypon just finished unpacking. The anger and irritation that filled her just a few minutes ago gave way to quiet bewilderment.

“Hm. I’m actually not sure where the third one came from.”

Eurypon dropped his head into his hands. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“Unfortunately, no.”

Eurypon pointed at something in the corner. “Then this candelabrum… Is it even ours?”

Gorgo squinted at the candelabrum that looked suspiciously close to the one her aunt gifted them a few months ago. The thing was exceptionally ugly and Gorgo knew it was on purpose. The old hag always hated her and this was yet another proof.

“Technically,” she said slowly. “That came from my Aunt Helen. She gave it to us on Mydeimos’ birthday. I was planning on either regifting it to someone – though I’m not sure to whom, there is no one I quite hate this much yet – or to throw it in the attic and forget this thing even existed.”

Her husband let out another deep sigh. “Of course, that cursed thing came from that damn witch. Should’ve expected it.”

“Was it giving you trouble?” Gorgo asked as she grabbed a lemonade pitcher and two glasses from the table nearby. She sat down on the surprisingly still clean couch and offered a glass of pink lemonade to a groaning Eurypon.

Eurypon rubbed his eyes as he quietly thanked her. He squinted at the drink. “Pink? When did you have time to make it?”

Gorgo took a sip from her glass, “Not me. Our son prepared it in the morning before he went out to play.”

“Mydeimos? He’s six, how did he even reach the counter? Wait, did we unbox his step ladder? I forgot.”

“Yes, I did that in the very beginning. Now shut up and try the drink our son made for us.”

Eurypon took a small sip and raised his eyebrows, appreciatively. “Surprisingly not too sweet. The boy is learning.”

“Oh, shut it, like you were any better. I remember the unholy amount of sugar you used to put in your tea when you were ten. His sweet tooth is all you.”

“I wasn’t that bad,” Eurypon immediately protested. He took another sip.

“At one point you were more sugar than blood. I’m surprised you’re still breathing.”

“Now you’re just exaggerating.”

“Am I, though?”

“Alright, alright,” Eurypon agreed, raising one of his hands in defeat. “You have a point. I did have a horrible sweet tooth back in the day,” and then he added mildly, “let’s just be glad that Mydeimos didn’t get your kitchen skills. One you is already more than enough for this family.”

“Now who is exaggerating?” Gorgo asked, full body turning to him.

“Oh? But am I, though?” Eurypon, voice deceptively soft, swished the pink lemonade prepared by his six-year-old son as if it was the oldest and most expensive whiskey. Dramatic asshole. “Who was it that nearly burned our house to the ground just a week ago? What was it that you said…” he brough a glass to his lips, his expression contemplative. He suddenly widened his eyes, “Ah, right! You wanted to make a homemade ice cream, wasn’t it?”

Gorgo groaned, already knowing what’s going to come next.

Eurypon didn’t disappoint. “How did you that even happen? You were trying to make an ice cream.”

“I told you it was the ice cream machine! The machine caught on fire!” Gorgo exclaimed just like she did when she first explained it.

That evening Mydeimos was in the mood for something sweet – because when was he not, really, the boy was no better than his father in that regard – which was a perfect excuse for Gorgo to finally take her latest kitchen gadget for a spin. Despite being famously known for her bad cooking, she had a soft spot for weird kitchen appliances, and the ice cream machine she'd recently bought was just begging to be used. Her son's reliable sweet tooth gave her the final push she needed.

Who knew the thing would literally explode in her face. Gorgo was kind of surprised that her pride and the hideous looking curtains – the ones that Eurypon bought when they were twenty and freshly married – was the only price she had to pay for the ice cream machine malfunctioning.

Gorgo later had to ask Eurypon to grab them some ice cream on his way from work because now she wanted to eat one out of sheer spite.

(Hopefully, Mydeimos, being young and all, will not remember this incident. It was more than a little humiliating.)

Suddenly her eyes got caught on something in the corner. She smacked Eurypon’s shoulder as she pointed. “Now that looks familiar. What is that?”

“That?” Eurypon shrugged, still smiling. “I bought a new ice cream machine.” His voice lost it teasing tilt; it came out soft. “You seemed to have fun with the last one, so I bought another but this one is better and it was not promoted on some shady websites,” he said pointedly.

Gorgo ignored him. People were promoting the wildest things on the internet lately and the reviews for that machine were so polarizing that she became curious. Morbidly so.

“Seriously?” she asked, something warm building in her chest. Her lips curved up in a teasing smile. She waved a hand around them. “What was it that you said about me burning the house down just a week ago and yet now you’re buying me, what? More ammunition? Do you want to get rid of this house already, is that what it is?”

Eurypon tilted his head. He put his empty glass on the floor and gently took her hand. “Well, those candelabrums did test me, I won’t lie,” he grimaced slightly. “But this time I will be right there with you and we will make an ice cream together,” he brought her hand to his lips and left a tender kiss on her fingers, “why don’t we make a date out of it?”

The sun pouring in through the windows made his eyes look like molten gold – transforming his already intent gaze into something much deeper. Gorgo’s breath hitched against her will. They’ve been together for over a decade and yet he still had the same effect on her. First at fourteen and now at twenty-six – it seemed all it ever took was just one look to leave her breathless.

The moment shattered with Eurypon’s next words.

“I already bought multiple fire extinguishers,” he suddenly smirked against her fingers. “Can’t forget that one, what with you being so fire prone.”

Nevermind, she can’t stand this man.

“Eurypon!” Gorgo exclaimed, as she smacked him with a random pillow that was laying on the floor. Out of the corners of her eyes she noticed that it was also incredibly ugly – was that yet another Aunt Helen’s gift? Was that woman just getting rid of her ugly furniture by gifting it to Gorgo or something?

Eurypon let out an embarrassing noise of surprise – one that sounded more like a squawk that he would deny until his last breath – as Gorgo launched an assault on his poor head and shoulders from every possible angle. She had no mercy.

“What are you doing?”

Both of them jumped at the sudden question. In the same breath they turned and looked at the direction that the small voice came from.

“Holy Nikador,” Eurypon let out a small wheeze as he clutched at his heart. “Make some noise next time before you speak, Mydeimos! I’m too young to have a heart attack!”

Mydeimos tilted his head, big gold eyes blinking at his father. “I did. I knocked,” his eyes trailed to the glasses that still had some pink lemonade at the bottom. His face brightened, “Did you try it? Was it okay?”

“Yes”, Gorgo, still clutching the pillow that nearly took out Mydeimos’ father, stood from her place near Eurypon and made way to their son. Dropping her murder weapon, she lifted Mydeimos and twirled him in the air before stopping and giving him a loud kiss on each rosy cheek. “We loved it! Thank you, little chef.”

Mydeimos wrapped his arms around his mother’s neck, smiling shyly at his parents. “I can make you another one tomorrow if you want,” he mumbled into Gorgo’s hair.

“We’ll help,” Eurypon finally got some of his bearing back as he walked to his wife and son. He took a leaf out of Mydeimos’ hair and gently brushed it over his son’s nose. Mydeimos scrunched his little face and sneezed into Gorgo’s shoulder. “Bless you. You had fun playing?”

“Mhm,” Mydeimos leaned into his father’s hand as he started untangling the knots in his hair. “Met Phainon.”

“Phainon? Who’s that?” Gorgo asked idly.

“A boy. He lives across the street. Got a funny looking face.”

Eurypon raised his eyebrows. “Khaslana boy?” He exchanged a look with Gorgo. His wife nodded. “You already met our neighbors. We’ll go and greet them as a family later.” Then he snorted, slightly tugging on his son’s hair. “What does ‘a funny looking face’ mean, young man?”

Mydeimos shrugged, ignoring his father’s antics. “He has that face… Looks like a puppy. It’s funny. Puppies are cute.”

Gorgo’s heart suddenly squeezed so hard she thought it was going to burst in her chest. She cooed, “You are cute,” giving her son another kiss and hugging him tighter.

Mydeimos stayed silent, burying his head in his mother’s neck and hugging her in response. He was such a quiet and loving child. Sometimes Gorgo couldn’t believe that she and Eurypon made someone this adorable.

As she was swaying with Mydeimos in her arms, Gorgo felt familiar warm hands encircle her waist from behind. A solid chest pressed against her back and Eurypon’s head landed on her shoulder. He gave their son’s head a tender kiss and then pressed his lips against her temple, staying there for a few moments.

Their move in was hectic and they still had so much stuff to unpack but none of it matter at this moment.

A new house, a new neighborhood, a new life.

Gorgo couldn’t wait to see what the future held for them. She was almost giddy with excitement.

*

A few days later they met the Khaslanas, a couple that lived in the house across from them and were known in the neighborhood for their bakery – a small family business that they opened a few years ago that has now become the thing their little town was most famous for. Audata’s honey suncakes were, apparently, to die for.

They had a son Mydeimos’ age, Phainon. The one with the ‘funny looking face’, as Mydeimos so eloquently put it.

(Now that their son has said that this would be the only way for Eurypon to identify the boy, Gorgo thought ruefully. Poor kid.)

Audata and Hieronymus were a few years older than Gorgo and Eurypon but despite being in complete opposite work fields and seemingly having nothing in common – they surprisingly became quick friends.

And all would have been fine if it only wasn’t for…

“Did you hear that? The brat calls our Mydeimos ‘Mydei’. Mydei!”

“Mhm, sure did. I was there too,” Gorgo randomly picked a jar from the shelf and narrowed her eyes at the label. “Strawberry or apricot?”

“Strawberry, of course. What kind of question is that.”

“Right, forgot you’re a werido that can’t eat apricot for some reason,” Gorgo mumbled under her breath as she put both jars in their cart.

“It tastes weird.”

“Whatever you say,” Gorgo nodded as she walked down the aisle with Eurypon following after her with a scowl. She glanced at her watch. “Alright, is there anything else we need to grab besides cakes? We have to be quick. We have around an hour before our pilates class.”

Right. Pilates was another thing that Gorgo got obsessed with recently. She thought it’d be something her husband would appreciate doing, what with him always complaining about the pain in his shoulders and back after the gym. So, she dragged a kicking and screaming Eurypon with her to their first lesson a few months ago and they’ve been regulars ever since.

Audata and Hieronymus were the most recent addition to their class – courtesy of Gorgo, of course, because Eurypon was a very kind person and he would never subject his friends to such torture.

(Krateros didn’t count. Eurypon would gladly throw him to the wolves for being a traitor and always taking Gorgo’s side. Knowing his friend though, he’d love the hellish workout and Eurypon already had enough of that with his wife.

No, thank you. That backstabber can babysit the little demon brats in the meantime.)

Audata wholeheartedly agreed with him. Hieronymus… Hieronymus was yet another weirdo who loved pilates for some reason. Figures.

“Don’t make that face,” Gorgo said without turning to him. “For all your complaints before each class, you’re always awfully quiet once it’s over and your pain disappears.” She put two cakes in their tray and clapped her hands. “Okay, that should be all. Let’s check out.”

“Why did you take two cakes? Don’t tell me one is for Krateros, the man doesn’t like sugar,” he looked pointedly at Gorgo. “That is the real weirdo.”

Gorgo huffed, her face amused. “He is, isn’t he? But no, the one is for you and the other is for the kids.”

“I don’t even –”

“Yes, yes,” Gorgo interrupted flippantly, “You don’t have a sweet tooth anymore and it wasn’t you I saw eating honey straight out of the jar a few nights ago. Must have been Mydeimos.”

Were Eurypon a decent man, he might have been properly cowed. But it was Eurypon. And Eurypon had no shame.

Especially when it came to his wife.

“That’s right,” he nodded resolutely. “You must have been seeing things.”

Gorgo smiled innocently in return. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I gave one cake to each kid? One for Mydeimos and one for Phainon?”

Taunting smirk immediately disappearing, Eurypon opened his mouth, full of righteous indignation. “That Khaslana brat is not getting my cake. He already stole my son; I’m not letting him steal my cake too!”

“’Stole’ he’s just being friends with Mydeimos. Be glad that he found a friend so quickly; otherwise, you would have been the one playing house with our son.”

And what is so bad about that, Eurypon grumbled silently. Mydeimos was an angel.

“He’s a bad influence,” Eurypon said instead. He refused to budge, not on this. “There is something wrong about that boy. Makes all of my fatherly instincts scream in alarm.”

Gorgo mouthed ‘fatherly instincts’ with a bewildered expression. Her husband was an idiot.

“And!” said idiot suddenly exclaimed. Gorgo looked at him with a placid expression, waiting for the next bizarre thing to leave his mouth. Eurypon did just that. “Speaking of playing house. Did you know that the brat brought flowers to our son? Flowers!”

Gorgo did know about that, actually. Audata complained to her at the time that someone trampled all over her hyacinths and stole a few flowers. The culprit later voluntary gave himself up, all guilty blue eyes and small hands streaked with dirt.

“And what is wrong with flowers?” she asked idly as she greeted the cashier.

“He was making fun of him, of course. Mydeimos has been on the losing streak in their games lately. The brat clearly took that as a chance to taunt him,” Eurypon pursued his lips and started unloading their cart. “I’m telling you; the boy is suspicious.”

How did he even know about the losing streak, Gorgo wondered.

“Is he? What, he plays with Mydeimos, helps him with his homework, shares his food with him and jokes around,” palm up, she made grabby motion toward her husband. Eurypon obediently gave her his card. “To me, it seems like Phainon is behaving like any child his age,” she looked pointedly at him. “You acted the exact same way, by the way, and my father did not suspect you of being a weirdo. Even if, realistically speaking, sometimes you kind of were.”

“I was an angel,” Eurypon immediately denied.

“You were banned from multiple museums before you hit double digits,” Gorgo smiled apologetically at the tired cashier and dragged her husband away.

“They were blatantly lying about history! Was I just supposed to listen to their lies?”

“Eh,” Gorgo waved her hand. She couldn’t really argue with him here. She would’ve done the same. “Still, you were far from being a perfect kid. Phainon, though, is a little angel. Have you seen the boy? He’s adorable!”

“Yeah, that’s how he gets you,” Eurypon grumbled. “And stop comparing them to us. It’s not the same.”

Gorgo raised her eyebrow as she opened the car to load their groceries. They still had around forty minutes before their class but they needed to drop Phainon and Mydeimos at Krateros’ place before that too.

“And how exactly is that different? We also were friends since childhood and,” she pointed a bottle of pomegranates juice at him. “We were neighbors too.”

“Yes, and where are we now?” came the annoyed voice of her husband. He passed her another bag full of groceries.

She blinked when the realization of what he was implying hit her. A laugh so strong it made her stomach hurt, burst out of her. “Now,” she giggled, the sound breathless and delighted. “That wouldn’t be so bad, now would it –”

“Do not speak it into existence!”

Eurypon knew himself well. And he knew, with absolute certainty, that he was not above fighting an eight-year-old.

“Oh, come on,” still laughing, Gorgo tugged him into her arms. She brushed the hair from his forehead, smiling helplessly at him grumpy face. “You’re the most ridiculous man I know. You were the one who implied it!”

Eurypon forcibly swallowed the snide ‘you know other men?’. Now was not the time.

And besides. He knew that Gorgo knew other men. Krateros was right there.

Feeling slightly calmer now, he wrapped his jacket around Gorgo’s shoulders. Seeing her amused eyes, he said, “It’s cold. Anyway, enough about that brat.” He wasn’t getting anywhere near his son and certainly not in that way. Mydeimos was to stay by their side until the very end and no hellion, no matter how cute and charming, was changing that.

Eurypon nodded resolutely, feeling himself calm down. He gave his wife a light peck on the lips. “We need to go home, drop the kids with Krateros and prepare for our,” he grimaced. “Pilates class.”

Gorgo snickered and snuggled closer to him. A few seconds later she said, “By the way, today is aerial pilates day.”

All worries forgotten, Eurypon exclaimed, “Why didn’t you say so earlier!?”

He loved aerial pilates day. In his very humble opinion, it was the best day in that demonic studio. Who even needed gym when aerial pilates existed? The silks, the suspension, the feeling of defying gravity – that was something they all agreed on.

Suddenly invigorated, he shoved the last groceries into their car and jumped behind the wheel. Sticking his head out of the window, Eurypon waved at his amused wife. “Come on! We have a pilates class in thirty minutes. Get in!”

His one-sided fight with a kid could wait.  

*

So. Eurypon was about to throw hands with a kid.

Or a teenager. Phainon turned sixteen a few days ago.

Eh, same thing. Still a kid.

It wouldn’t stop Eurypon from drop kicking him to the ground though. He may be sick with a cold right now but he still had enough strength to deal with one brat (and he always had more than enough strength to deal with this brat in particular.)

He made Mydeimos cry.

His son. Crying. Over a dumb boy.

Over Phainon that was attached to his side since they were six years old.

It was simply unacceptable.

Mydeimos came home earlier than usual. The sound of door opening was a distant thing to Eurypon’s hazy mind. Assuming it was Gorgo, he didn’t move from his place; and then he heard it. He strained his ears, a sleepy frown appearing on his face.

Sniffles. Someone was crying.

It was that that made Eurypon stir from his place near the fireplace. Drowsy, he turned around, a question ready on his lips, when he saw Mydeimos and froze, his eyes opening wide. Instantly awake.

Mydeimos pressed his head to the door, his shoulders shaking with what could only be described as quiet sobs. The sight made the words stuck in Eurypon’s throat. He sat up in his place and, still unnoticed, watched as his son took off his winter jacket and wiped his eyes. His red cheeks were glistening with tears, his blond hair a mess from the winter wind. He was a sorry sight.

Eurypon wrapped a blanket tighter around himself and took a sip of his lukewarm tea, to wet his throat. Sweet, with just the right amount of honey in it. His wife was the best.

He put his cup on the table near the fireplace and cleared his throat. The sound, despite the warm drink, still sounded harsh to the ears and made his son jump in place.

Mydeimos whipped around, coming face to face with a human looking burrito that he took for a pile of blankets at first. Seeing his dad’s tired face looking at him, he blinked in surprise. “Father? What are you –”

Eurypon showed his tea. “Still sick. Your mother forced me to stay at home for another week. She went to grab some medicine from the store on the corner.”

That persistent flu just refused to leave him alone. He was sick for over two weeks; there had to be the end to this but it seemed it wouldn’t be now.

Perhaps, Eurypon thought, chagrined, it was time for him to start taking those vitamins Gorgo kept nagging him about. He was not twenty anymore and clearly his immune system needed some boost.

“Do you want anything? I can make some soup,” his son, ever so filial, frowned. Hiding his face with his hair (it was getting long; he looked more and more like his mother, Eurypon thought absentmindedly) Mydeimos came closer and put more dry logs in the fireplace, making the previously dying fire blaze to life once more.

“It’s alright, I’m not hungry,” Eurypon pointed at his tea. “You want some? Go grab a cup, you need to warm up from the street.”

And tell me what’s wrong, he thought, watching as his son tried to subtly deny his invitation.

Well, too bad for him – Mydeimos didn’t have one subtle bone in his body and Eurypon, as his sick father, had the privilege to act as obnoxious as possible.

Eurypon moved Gorgo’s cup that still had some tea in it towards Mydeimos and nodded at the couch. “Take a seat.”

“Father –”

“Sit down.”

Defeated, Mydeimos plopped on the coach.

He could never refuse sick people; a weakness that Eurypon was more than willing to exploit.

Eurypon sipped his tea, “What’s wrong.”

“I told you it’s nothing –”

“Then why were you crying?” Eurypon interrupted impatiently. He wasn’t Gorgo; he didn’t have her gentleness, nor her kindness. When it came to emotions Eurypon was straightforward, stern. Bulshitting through the conversation would not work on him and Mydeimos knew that.

After all, that was one of the only traits he and his father shared.

They both were too perceptive for their own good.

Mydeimos breathed out. “It seriously is nothing, just a bad day at school. Nothing more.”

Eurypon raised his eyebrow. “What could be bad enough to make you cry? Did you get a bad grade or something? You know me and your mother don’t care about that.”

Mydeimos slightly recoiled, his face twisting for a second in what could only be described as offense.

Not that, then, Eurypon narrowed his eyes.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. Can I go to my room? I have class in the evening, I need to prepare,” his son said almost pleadingly.

The alarms in Eurypon’s head blared even louder. Mydeimos never sounded like this. And besides…

“Don’t you just have a baking lesson with Audata this evening? You never prepared anything for that.”

As his father, Eurypon knew about every single class Mydeimos had. Every club, every sport event, every teacher that has crossed paths with his son in any meaningful way – Eurypon knew about all of them.

Baking lessons with Audata have been a long-time thing. Their families were close and Mydeimos has shown great interest in the food Audata made. Not only the taste, the whole process interested him. He used to sneak out of the house just so he could spend the whole day in Khaslana’s kitchen, asking Audata random questions about her craft. It was quickly revealed that his fascination was not because he simply liked the taste of Audata’s cooking (that too, the woman was famous for a reason) but mostly because he wanted to learn everything he could about cooking. And Audata was more than happy to teach him.

Eurypon was never a cooking type. He could make a simple dish, could follow instruction with ease but cooking wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed. It wasn’t his hobby, more so… A necessity, that’s all.

The less said about Gorgo the better. She really shined when it came to drinks but anything related to an actual dish? Not a chance.

But surprisingly their son always loved spending his time in the kitchen. Baking, cooking – didn’t matter, he enjoyed everything. And he had the talent for that too; his twist on golden honeycakes was so good Audata had put it on their regular menu after countless customers tried to order it from their bakery when Mydeimos was working for them part time last summer.

They had a good thing going and Eurypon knew what those lessons entailed. Never once, in all seven years that Audata has taken Mydeimos under her wing, had he needed to prepare for any of their lessons.

But based on his son’s spooked look at his mention of Audata it had something to do with the woman.

“Did something happen with Audata?” Eurypon asked in alarm. He saw her yesterday but you could never be sure…

“No! No,” Mydeimos was quick to reassure him. “She’s alright, everything is fine with her.”

“Then what is it? Does it have anything to do with Khaslanas?” And then, “Did you argue with that brat again?”

His son has always been very soft, a child who felt everything very deeply even if he hid all his vulnerabilities behind a mask. Other might have not noticed the delicate changed in Mydeimos’ expressions but it was his son. Of course, Eurypon noticed. Every little detail was committed to his memory. Some people might have thought that Mydeimos was not the most expressive person out there but Eurypon strongly disagreed with such assessment. His son was kind, soft around the edges, so indulgent when it came to his loved ones that it bothered on insanity.

It didn’t take much time to notice that. All one had to do was simply look.

And for all that Phainon has been Mydeimos’ best friend since they were six and they grew up together, knew each other like no one else… Eurypon knew that Phainon had a mouth on him.

He was just glad he didn’t need to awkwardly explain to his young son anymore why his best friend kept saying weird things. Like that time with the flowers. Just what the boy was even thinking?

Eurypon was never happier than the day when Mydeimos started to snark back to his best friend. That Khaslana brat needed someone to keep him on his toes and Mydeimos, apparently, was perfect for that. Exactly what that boy needed to stay humble.

They balanced each other quite well.

“I –” his son closed his mouth and looked away. “No, we didn’t argue.”

Mydeimos was a rotten liar. He got that from his mother.

“Did he say something to you?” Eurypon continued to push.

And finally, Mydeimos snapped. “I told you it has nothing to do with him!” and then almost begging, with a sudden wave of fresh tears flooding his eyes, “Can you please drop it?”

Eurypon slightly recoiled back. He felt his chest tighten, his heart beating painfully. If there was one thing he hated more than anything, it was seeing his wife and son in pain. His voice softened almost instinctively, trying to comfort his child in the only way he could. A usually strong hand that was now a bit weaker than usual after two weeks of sickness, hesitantly reached out towards the dejected form of his child. “Son… I just want to help. What happened between the two of you?’

It seemed that this was the final straw that made Mydeimos crack. He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking from the force of his sobs. He was trying to make as little sound as possible but Eurypon didn’t need any more explanations.

He stood from his place and quickly went to his son’s side. Covering him with his blanket, still warm from his body heat, he drew Mydeimos’ smaller frame into his own, gripping his shoulders in a hug.

“It’s alright,” he said quietly. “Just let it out.”

“I feel so stupid,” his son whispered brokenly into his embrace. “I thought… I never expected this.”

Eurypon stayed silent as he gently cradled him in his embrace. His arms tightened around Mydeimos.

Mydeimos shook his head, his lips quivering from the force of his emotions. Eurypon had never seen his usually calm, collected son act this way.

It was worrying to say the least.

And then suddenly, “He… He’s dating someone.”

What. Eurypon froze, his eyes snapping wide open.

“And,” Mydeimos continued, not noticing his father’s stiffened frame. “It’s okay. It is,” he said, trying to convince his father but mostly himself and failing at both. “I just… thought he’d warn me. Tell me he was in love with someone already.”

“He never mentioned anything?” Eurypon asked quietly. From somewhere far, far away. Something hot boiled inside of him.

He was going to kill that brat.

And no one was going to stop him.

“No,” his son shook his head, his hands gripping Eurypon’s shirt. “No, he didn’t. Not a word.”

Mydeimos’ feelings for Phainon was like an open secret in their family. Both Eurypon and Gorgo knew about his crush on his best friend. They never mentioned it, for their son’s sake, but they were aware of it for a very, very long time.

There were only so many times their boy could stare and blush when his best friend did something without them getting suspicious.

And Mydeimos – pure hearted, honest Mydeimos – was never good at deception.

Titans, Eurypon wished Gorgo was here with him. She was so much better at this stuff.

For all of their sakes, Eurypon treated carefully. He knew just how delicate of the matter this was. One wrong step and his son would close off, their chance of a proper conversation lost.

“Is that what made you cry? That he didn’t trust you with his crush? Or,” he said carefully, watching every minuscule change in his son; the flicker of an eyelash, the tightening of a jaw, the way Mydeimos' hands had started fidgeting with the fabric of Eurypon's shirt. “Was it something else?”

Mydeimos stilled. He didn’t reply.

“Something else, then,” Eurypon summarized, his voice soft.

“It’s…” a broken whisper from the trembling lips.

Fuck it, Eurypon thought. He hated hearing this hesitant tone from his kid, that usually shined like the sun in the sky, so brilliant in his glory and confidence. They’re doing it his way.

He breathed out. “I know.”

“You… know?” Mydeimos asked. His hands stopped fidgeting with Eurypon’s shirt. He was now truly frozen.

“About your feelings. For…” Eurypon held his son's gaze, refusing to look away. “For Phainon. Both me and your mother know.” He then softened his voice further, letting warmth bleed into the words. “So, whatever it is that you’re hiding, just know that it’s no use.”

Mydeimos’ already weak and fluttering breath stopped entirely. A few seconds later he asked, barely audible. “How?”

“You’re our son. Of course we know,” Eurypon gave a soft squeeze to Mydeimos’ shoulders. “It’s okay.”

“Is it?” he asked, a slight tremor overtaking his figure. And then, quieter, “Does anyone else know?”

Does Phainon know?

“Don’t know about others but,” he kept his voice even, “why wouldn’t it be okay?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Eurypon hesitated, weighing his words carefully, but decided to tell the truth. His son deserved no less than that. “We wanted you to tell us yourself. We didn’t want to push,” feeling Mydeimos’ shoulder hitch up slightly, he answered the silent question. “Even I know not to push with things like that. We thought you needed time.”

Mydeimos let out a wet snort, something between a laugh and a sob. “Yeah, a whole lot that gave me. He’s still… he’ll never look at me like that. I’m just his ‘best friend’,” he added with sudden venom in his voice.

Eurypon blinked. Well, his son deserved to be a little petty. Still…

“What exactly happened?” he asked quietly.

Mydeimos took a deep breath. He lowered his eyes, long wet lashes fanning over his cheeks. Finally, he spoke, “It’s… Today is Valentine’s Day,” Eurypon frowned. His illness had pushed it out of his mind – he needed to order something nice for Gorgo. She never truly cared for such things but still. He shook his head. Not important right now. “I thought we’d spend it together, like we usually do but then he started acting… shifty. Running away all the time, avoiding me, spending time who knows where and never telling me about that – there was a lot of things. But still, I asked him about his plans for today because I wanted… It doesn’t matter. He told me he can’t because he had a date. Someone I didn’t even know about, never saw him interact with before. It was just… a random person.” He suddenly sneered, “or, well, they are a random person to me. To Phainon they must mean something if he decided to ditch me for them.”

He shivered, wrapping his hands around himself. “It’s just, I thought… I thought he’d at least tell me. That he’d trust me with this. I don’t know why he didn’t.” Mydeimos shrugged, the corners of his lips twitching in a lopsided smile. It looked wrong on his face. “He just didn’t. Maybe there’s nothing more to it.”

Eurypon frowned. “That’s not true. That brat wouldn’t do it for nothing. He always has a motive. Come on, you know that better than anyone.”

He knew what kind of relationship his son shared with the Khaslana boy. Even if he sometimes got confused with their constantly shifting labels and seemingly hostile relationship – he knew the boys were close. They were best friends, rivals, the people who knew each other best. Since the day they’ve met, to their elementary, middle and now to high school – they were attached at the hip. Constantly pushing each other, arguing about the most stupid things, competing over everything and giving a headache to all people who were unfortunate enough to get caught between them.

And Phainon Khaslana, for all his bright smiles and innocent blue eyes, could be a conniving little shit.

Eurypon, of all people, knew that better than most. From the very beginning he could see that there was something sly to that boy. He was too good at pretending, at putting up a front. Smile here, make a lighthearted joke about that, make friends with that person over there – it was no wonder the boy was so popular with everyone.

Eurypon knew the boy didn’t have a malicious bone in his body but still, it was unnerving to see something like that in a young child.

That’s why he thought Mydeimos’ honesty and straightforwardness was so important to their relationship – they balanced each other out perfectly. Only when they were together could someone truly see what kind of people both of them were.

For all Eurypon’s complaints about Phainon, he never thought the boy would ever hurt his son. It was something he never even considered, a thought so outlandish he would’ve laughed himself to tears if someone told him about it an hour ago.

Phainon was a fool and a bad influence but he cared for his son. Eurypon had no doubt about that.

Still, it didn’t erase Mydeimos’ tears.

Intentionally or not – the boy has hurt him.

And that was grounds enough for Eurypon to hunt him down and demand an explanation.

“I’ll make some hot chocolate. No,” he said firmly at Mydeimos’ wide eyes and mouth already opening in protest. “Go to your room, change and come back once you’re ready.” He planted a dry but strong kiss to his son’s forehead. He murmured into the slightly feverish skin. “It will be okay. You know that boy is hopeless without you. Whoever that person is, Phainon will run back to you once again, just as he’s always done. Right?”

Hearing no response from his quiet son, Eurypon softly tugged on strawberry blond locks. “Right?”

Mydeimos sniffled. He shrugged his shoulders, “…I guess.”

“Alright. Now up you go. If you’re not down within 15 minutes, I’m dragging you to the kitchen myself.”

“Okay,” his son stood up and shuffled for a second before wiping his eyes once again. A little hesitant, Mydeimos turned to him and sent him a small but genuine smile. The first real one since he came back from school. “Thank you, dad.”

Eurypon waved his thanks away. “Go. I’ll wait for you in the kitchen. And,” he added before his son disappeared up the stairs. “Wear something warm. It’s cold.”

Eurypon waited for a few second before he got up and walked to the kitchen. Preparing the chocolate, he grabbed his phone from the kitchen counter and shot a quick text to his wife.

Eurypon

If you know where that Khaslana brat is – tell him to come here now. Otherwise, I won’t let him see Mydeimos for a week.

And then, just to make sure, he added.

I’m not joking. If he doesn’t get here until the end of today, I will haul his ass to Mydeimos myself. It’s serious.

Gorgo

???

Eurypon's thumbs hovered over the screen, the message half-typed ‘that boy made our son cry’ when suddenly the front door to their house burst open with a deafening bang.

Eurypon jolted, phone nearly slipping from his grip as his head snapped toward the entrance.

“Mydei? Mydei, are you here?” came the panicked voice. A very familiar panicked voice.

Good. No need to search for him then.

Clutching his phone, Eurypon stomped to the door, ready to rip into the little bastard. But before he could even launch an attack, he was interrupted.

“Mr. Kremnos! You’re here,” Phainon managed to say. He was red in the face; his usually fluffy white hair was plastered to his head in a sweaty mess. Jacket and scarf undone, he carelessly threw his boots away. Breathless, he looked with wild eyes towards the living room and asked. “Mydei. Is he at home? He’s not answering his phone. I couldn’t find him anywhere at school.”

Once he was done, he pressed a hand to his chest with a small wheeze.

Did he run all the way here?.. Where the hell are his winter gloves? And his winter cap? Where did the boy lose half of his wardrobe?! Eurypon thought all anger forgotten in the face of Phainon’s appearance.

He opened his mouth but once more Phainon interrupted him. Hands on his knees, his chest rattling with each heavy breath, his blue eyes zeroed on Mydeimos’ red jacket. The one he wore every day to school.

Before Eurypon could utter a word, the boy gasped out, ‘he’s here’, and in the next breath he abruptly straightened and bolted up the stairs.

“Explain… I need to…” Eurypon caught only fragments of the frantic muttering before the boy vanished from view, leaving him alone in the doorway.

Eurypon stood there, frozen, the winter air curling past him through the still-open front door. Wrapped in warm blankets, phone with an unsent message vibrating in his hand from his wife’s new messages. Eurypon opened his mouth. Then closed. He blinked at the empty staircase.

“What the hell just happened.”

Did Phainon somehow felt his threats about not letting him see Mydeimos for a week? It wouldn’t even be the first time it happened and, at this point, Eurypon knew better than to expect anything normal from that Khaslana brat.

He closed the door and shot Gorgo a new message, telling her Phainon came to their house himself. He pocketed the phone and swiped a hand down his tired face. Looking upstairs, he contemplated for a second. And then with a mumbled ‘might as well,’ he followed the boy.

With the experience he had, he knew exactly which boards would creak and which spots to avoid if he wanted to remain unseen. Unfortunately, for both him and the boys, it wasn’t the first time he had to spy on them.

Eurypon didn't make a habit of this and it had been a long time since he'd felt the need to resort to such measures. He only had Mydeimos’ best interests at heart and he never stayed for long. Sometimes he was just worried. Sometimes he could feel that something was wrong with his child without Mydeimos ever saying anything. And right now… Mydeimos was in a fragile state. He didn’t want that boy to make it even worse.

Still, he knew exactly what a thin line he was walking. Gorgo would flay him alive if she caught him like this – invading their son’s privacy even if it was for his own sake.

He abandoned his house slippers near the stairs, the wooden floor cold against his socked feet. He tiptoed towards Mydeimos’ closed door. Leaning in, Eurypon held his breath, straining to catch any scrap of conversation, any hint of distress.  

He managed to hear only bits and pieces of conversation but it was enough for him to get the general picture.

“What are you doing here?” His son's voice, muffled but unmistakable. “Your date –”

“Not important.” Phainon's response came quick, almost breathless. “I couldn't find you. Why weren't you picking up my calls?”

“My phone died –”

A pause. Then Phainon again, quieter now but with an edge Eurypon couldn't quite place, “I left the charger for you. You could have used it.”

“I wanted to go home,” Eurypon pressed his ear harder against the wood, frustration building. For Nikador's sake, why were they whispering like conspirators? He could barely make out half of what they said. “…did your date go?”

“Grabbed a coffee, that’s all –”

Another pause, longer this time. Eurypon held his breath, willing the sound to travel through the door. His son's voice again, this time almost unnervingly even. “…Like them? Why didn’t you tell me? There was no need to lie.”

“No!” The sudden shout made Eurypon physically jolt backward, one hand flying to his chest. Damn these boys and their dramatics! He wasn't young anymore – these kinds of surprises would be the death of him.

“No,” Phainon repeated, his voice dropping back down to something barely audible. Eurypon crept forward again, cursing his aging ears. “Wasn’t anything like that. They…”

Eurypon pressed his ear so hard against the door he thought he might leave an imprint. Why had the brat fallen silent? What was he not saying? The quiet stretched on, heavy with something unspoken, and Eurypon found himself leaning into it, heart still racing.

“…Was looking out for you.” Phainon's voice had softened, losing its earlier edge, growing meeker with each question Mydeimos threw at him. Eurypon could almost hear the boy shrinking under the weight of his own confession.

“What does that mean?” Mydeimos pressed, and Eurypon imagined the furrow between his son's brows, the way he tilted his head when something didn't make sense.

“They… ask you to go –”

“Me?” The disbelief in Mydeimos' voice was palpable, even through the door. “But I don’t –”

“That’s what I told them!” Phainon cut in, words tumbling out now, desperate to be understood. “I know how much you don’t like…”

Another pause. Eurypon strained his ears harder.

“So, you don’t…” Mydeimos started, leaving the question hanging.

“No! Of course not!” Phainon's denial came swift and certain. “I would’ve told you!”

“I didn’t –”

“… Don’t need to apologize,” Phainon's reply was soft now, gentle in a way that made Eurypon's chest ache with something he couldn't name.

Right. Time for him to go. He’d heard enough – more than enough, really. With those two, he'd unfortunately accumulated a lifetime's worth of moments he was never meant to witness.

He didn't need another memory to add to that collection.

Shaking his head, he tiptoed back to the stairs and put his slippers back on.

Downstairs, the kitchen greeted him with its familiar warmth. He fished his phone out of his pocket; the screen was glowing with Gorgo's new messages. He scrolled through the chat, wincing slightly at the progression. Each message was sharper than the last, her patience clearly fraying with every minute he'd left her hanging.

He ignored them all – he'd deal with her wrath later – and typed out a quick update instead.

Eurypon

Crisis averted. The boys talked. Don’t know about what exactly but they seem fine. Will feed them hot chocolate and try to find out more.

Will keep you updated.

His wife replied a second later.

Gorgo

👍

Eurypon rolled his eyes and turned his phone off.

It was time to prepare the drinks. And interrogate the teenagers.

Easy enough.

*

“Three?” his son voice cut through the kitchen's comfortable quiet as he and Phainon appeared in the doorway and saw three cups of hot chocolate sitting on the table.

Clad in Mydeimos’ clothes and once again attached at the hip. Despite everything, something in Eurypon’s chest eased.

That was how it was supposed to be.

“Of course,” he nudged Phainon’s cup closer to the teenager. Eurypon glanced at the boy who was nervously fidgeting with the straps of his blue hoodie. “I assume you’re staying.”

“Can I?...”

“Of course. Don’t ask stupid questions,” Mydeimos looked away as he said it, his gaze fixed on some invisible point by the window.

Eurypon pretended he didn’t see the blood suddenly rushing to his son’s cheeks.

Eurypon was good at that. Pretending not to see things. Years of practice had made it practically a second nature.

“Thank you!” the brat smiled, his blue eyes sparkling as he looked at Mydeimos.

Eurypon, who was adding marshmallows to their drinks, almost gagged. He could taste the sparkles in the air. What a weird kid.

“Are you okay, father?” his son asked, concern bleeding into his voice. He took a step closer but Eurypon waved him off.

What a perceptive boy he had, Eurypon thought proudly, all thoughts of Phainon’s metaphorical sparkles forgotten.

“Nothing. Something annoying just stuck to my throat,” he looked pointedly at the brat – the source of all his annoyances – but Phainon didn’t spare him a glance. His attention remained fixed on Mydeimos like a flower following the sun.

His son tilted his head, brows furrowing.

The Khaslana boy only smiled in response, his blue eyes never once leaving Mydeimos' face. It was as if no one else in the world existed for him, as if Eurypon himself had faded, invisible and irrelevant.

What an insufferable kid.

He added another marshmallow to Phainon's cup anyway, then pushed it across the table with a grunt.

See if Eurypon ever helps him again!

*

“So?” Eurypon asked impatiently as soon as the door behind Phainon closed and the boy was on his way back to his own house. “What did he say?”

Damn everything. It was his son. He was invested.

Mydeimos, his cheeks still rosy and the corners of his lips twitching as if he was trying and failing to contain a smile. “Hm?” he said, his eyes already far away. Eurypon carefully directed his dazed son towards the living room where the fireplace was still blazing.

“Your boy. What did he say about that date of his?” he asked, feeding more dry logs to the fire. He was suddenly full of energy. Maybe these teenagers and their constant dramas rubbed off him because now his hands were itching to do something. 

“He’s not!” Mydeimos exclaimed as he snapped out of his dream. He continued more quietly, refusing to meet his father’s eyes. “He’s not my anything.”

Eurypon snorted. “Didn’t seem like it with how fast he ran here. Did his date last, what? Ten-fifteen minutes?”

Mydeimos blushed. “It… wasn’t really a date. I misunderstood.”

“Then what was it?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“He… Phainon’s heard that someone wanted to ask me on a date. He interfered. Told them I don’t do that type of thing.” Mydeimos said like it was a completely normal thing to do.

“He what.” Eurypon blinked and turned away from the cupboard he was eyeing to look at his son who was getting more comfortable on the couch.

Mydeimos hugged his knees and burrowed his chin into his hoodie. He shrugged. “Mhm.”

“Let me get this straight,” Eurypon said, trying to piece everything together. “Your best friend – the one you’re in love with – has heard that someone wanted to ask you on a date on Valentine’s Day and, instead of simply telling you, he asked that person out first just to tell them that you ‘don’t do that type of thing’, so that they’d… leave you alone? And then he ditched that person and ran all the way here to you?”

Is it appropriate to feel bad for the poor kid that got caught between his son and that Khaslana brat? Because Eurypon was starting to kind of feel bad for them.

Mydeimos only tilted his head in response. “Phainon knows I don’t like when people ask me out. He was helping me.”

“Right,” Eurypon drawled, his tone unsure. He looked at Mydeimos as if he was seeing him for the first time. “That’s. Sweet?”

“Isn’t it?”

“I guess?” Eurypon said, for lack of anything better to say. “If you think so?”

“I do. It was nice of him to do,” Mydeimos nodded, not noticing his father’s face that was progressively getting more and more bewildered as the seconds ticked by.

…Did they need to have a talk about boundaries? Eurypon thought, throwing another glance at his son who was staring at the fire with a glazed look in his eyes. He slowly started to knead a pillow he grabbed from a couch, a perfect picture of tranquility.

Eurypon shook his head. Nevermind. He was still fifteen. It was probably fine.

And anyway, he turned around and went back to the kitchen to make them some tea. He threw a look at his phone that lit up with a new message – Gorgo was on her way. That brat was weird too. Maybe it was just his bad influence.

Eurypon nodded, making up his mind.

He always knew that Khaslana boy was bad news.

*

It was only later that night that the realization hit him.

He was already in bed; with the warmth of his wife curled against his side, her breathing soft and even in sleep. One of her arms was draped across his chest, her fingers loosely curled against his shoulder. The blankets were pulled up to their chins, their bedroom dark and quiet.

And then Eurypon’s eyes shot wide open.

Oh.

Oh.

Fuck him, the thought came slightly hysterical, bubbling up from somewhere deep in his chest as the events of the day resurfaced in his mind. Eurypon stared at the ceiling, his heart thudding hard against his ribs. Beside him, Gorgo stirred slightly, murmuring something unintelligible in her sleep before she settled back against his side. He barely noticed anything.

It was mutual.

*

Was it something that he did, he watched the hand go lower. Is that the price he had to pay for the crimes he had committed in his past life. Lower, almost sliding into the back pocket of the black jeans Eurypon bought for Mydeimos just a week ago. His son turned his head from the conversation he had with his classmate – friend? Eurypon wasn’t sure who the new boy was but his face was full of judgement when he looked at Phainon and that alone was enough for him to always be welcomed in their house – and looked at his best friend. Phainon smiled, satisfied that Mydeimos’ attention was now fully on him and, ignoring everyone around them, drew him closer into his half embrace.

Because this? This was torture. 

“Losen up,” Gorgo, his beloved wife who for some reason thought his pain was hilarious, elbowed him from her seat. “It’s not that bad.”

“’Not that bad’?” Eurypon hissed. He pointed a shaky hand at Phainon and Mydeimos who were now standing in the corner of the room. With no distance between them, Phainon was leaning into Mydeimos’ space, one hand on the wall, another softly caressing his lower back. “He’s groping our son in public!”

“Would you prefer he do that in private?”

“No! I’d prefer him to not touch Mydeimos at all!”

Gorgo snorted. “Too late for that.”

“Do you think this is funny?”

“Honestly? Hilarious,” his wife said unabashedly. She took a sip of her drink, looking pointedly at him and the half empty glass of whiskey in his hand.

Of course, she thinks that, Eurypon thought. He didn’t notice his wife’s meaningful glance, too busy glaring at the boys in the corner. His eyes followed Phainon’s hand as it griped Mydeimos’ hip, drawing circles on the naked strip of skin he managed to find. Phainon leaned more into Mydeimos space, taking one of his hands off the wall just so that he could twirl a lock of strawberry blond hair around his finger as he murmured something to him. His son raised an unimpressed brow in response.

And yet, Eurypon nearly snarled. Mydeimos did not move away.

He downed the rest of the whiskey like it was a shot.

“Perhaps,” Hieronymus butted in. “We should all follow my wife’s example and go to the bar.”

“Of course, you say that.” Eurypon glared at his friend. He pointed a finger at him. “You are enjoying this too!”

And he did, Eurypon thought, bleary-eyed. He knew all of them enjoyed it.

It’s been a few years since that fateful Valentine’s Day. The boys were now eighteen and in just a few months they will graduate from high school and be ready to move on to different things.

But with them getting older, one unexpected (or expected, if someone asked Eurypon) thing that came out of it was just how shameless the boys became. No more shy glances at each other and smiles hidden into their collars. No more unsure hands twitching at their sides as if they were not sure if their touch was welcomed or not.

No. No. Now they didn’t hide anything.

It was like every habit they used to have before was now amplified by a thousand. A simple touch that previously didn’t last for more than five seconds was now bodies pressed together and hands that were almost always intertwined. A simple glance turned into eyes that were glued to each other, following each step the other made, every breath they took.

Every time Eurypon saw them, they were wrapped around each other. An arm around the shoulders, around the waist, around the neck – didn’t matter, it was as if they’d die if they didn’t touch every second of the day.

Sharing clothes was another thing. It was one of the earliest things they’ve done in their friendship but it was the newfound intimacy that caught even Eurypon off guard at first. The boys have always been very touchy with each other but lately their closeness has skyrocketed to a new level.

(Eurypon still remembered the scarf incident.

That morning, Phainon had arrived at their door without his scarf. Forgotten at home, he'd said, cheeks flushed pink from the wind and shoulders hunched against the chill. A reasonable mistake. An understandable oversight, really.

What happened next was neither reasonable nor understandable.

Mydeimos, his kind, innocent, too-good-for-this-world son, had taken one look at the shivering boy on their doorstep and decided, without hesitation, to fix the problem by giving the boy one of his own scarves.

Eurypon had nodded along, sipping his tea and thought nothing of it. A scarf was a simple kindness. This was fine.

He had never been more wrong.

When Mydeimos returned, he’d gave Phainon not just any scarf, but his favorite scarf – the one Gorgo had bought for him years ago. Deep red, with golden threads, it was a beloved thing. Warm, fluffy. Perfect for the bitterly cold winter morning they were having that day.

But instead of simply handing it over like a normal person, like any rational human being would do, Mydeimos had stepped forward and lifted it toward Phainon's neck. To wrap it around his best friend. Himself. Because apparently this was just how people borrowed scarves nowadays but what did Eurypon even know.

Phainon, the shameless scoundrel, accepted. Because why would he not. Clearly this was perfectly normal behavior.  

But it was not the wrapping of a scarf itself that scarred Eurypon for life. No, it was the weird, very much unneeded closeness, the weirdly intense gazes and the lingering hands around his son’s waist – the kind of intimacy that made Eurypon instinctively glance away, then force himself to look back because he needed to confirm what the hell he was seeing.

That. That scarred Eurypon for life.

At this point even the ever-oblivious Hieronymus had to admit that something was going on.)

“And, you’re done,” Gorgo plucked the glass from his hand and steered him away with Hieronymus following closely after them. “Time to sober up.”

“I’m sober!”

“And I’m a professional cook. Come on,” she shoved a glass of cold water into his hand and made him sit down on the chair near the balcony. Gorgo nodded at the glass, “Drink up.”

Eurypon angrily took a small sip of his water. He was not drunk; sure, he might have been a little tipsy but his head was clear!

Making sure he at least had something other than whiskey in his stomach, Gorgo turned to Hieronymus, who stood at Eurypon’s side – and pretended he didn’t exist, the damn traitor – and briskly told him to watch after her husband. Then she was off to fetch Audata that was mingling with some of their mutual friends at the bar.

Eurypon glared at Hieronymus.

Gods, Eurypon wished Krateros was here. He was the only one who understood him.

“Alright, I understand you don’t want them to be,” Hieronymus started. He waved at their kids doing Gods knew what. Eurypon certainly didn’t know what it was but he sure as hell knew that no friends acted that way. And he really, really did not appreciate his poor eyes and sanity being subjected to the brand of insanity that Hieronymus’ son apparently carried. “Like that. But would it really be so bad if they got together? Didn’t you say before that they were a good match? That they balanced each other pretty well?”

Eurypon stared at his water. He did say that in the past but.

He knew it was inevitable; the boys couldn’t stay away from each other and sooner than later something will have to give. The tension that’s been following them ever since that fateful Valentine’s Day has been building for years, simmering beneath every glance and every accidental touch, and it wouldn't be much longer until it finally spilled over.

Their eventual romance was all but written in the stars.

Still.

That didn't mean Eurypon wanted to see it, did it? Did that even make sense? It did in his head. It had to, because the alternative was admitting that he was being irrational, and Eurypon was many things but irrational was not one of them.

Mydeimos was supposed to stay pure and untouched by worldly desires.

There was a nice monastery somewhere near their house… Eurypon thought in a trance. The ice clinked softly in his glass. He walked past it a few times, he remembered it well. Peaceful place. Very quiet. Stone walls, a simple garden and the kind of solitude that could cleanse a person of impure thoughts. The monks there seemed content enough. Surely, they wouldn't mind one more. Maybe…

Eurypon blinked. The dreamlike visage of a monastery dissolved right in front of his eyes.

Holy shit he was much drunker than he thought.

Their family wasn’t even religious. What monastery? What monks? He didn't even like monasteries. He'd never set foot in one. The closest he'd ever come to religious contemplation was staring at the ceiling after being subjected to Phainon and Mydeimos’ weird mating dance and wondering why the gods had seen fit to test him so thoroughly.

“Your son is shameless,” he said instead, still reeling from the near-decision to ship his only child off to a life of celibate contemplation. At least, he tried to rationalize it to himself, that Khaslana boy wouldn’t be able to corrupt him? “It’s all your fault.”

Hieronymus snorted. “Funny to hear you of all people say that.”

“What does that even mean?” Eurypon asked, a note of complaint in his voice. He wasn’t about to tolerate some needless slander.

“Have you looked in the mirror lately? You and Phainon really… are not that different from each other,” Hieronymus told him. After thinking for a second, he amended. “When it comes to your shamelessness at least.”

“Me?” Eurypon pointed at himself. “I’m not shameless!”

“Oh,” murmured returned Gorgo with a blushing Audata at her side. “He’s much drunker than I thought.”

Eurypon barely registered the comment. His attention had already drifted from his conversation with Hieronymus, snagged on something else entirely, something that was far more important than whatever slight his wife had just delivered.

Her red dress hugged the curves of her body like a second skin and the elaborate updo highlighted the beautiful arch of her neck. Eurypon zeroed on her clavicle – that delicate stretch of skin just below her throat – where one golden curl managed to escape the tight constraints of Gorgo’s hairpin and was now laying innocently on his wife’s luminous skin.  

Eurypon frowned. Something was wrong.

“Where is it.”

“Where is what,” his wife asked in a deadpan voice.

Eurypon pointed at her skin. Specifically at the spot where something should have been and very clearly was not. “The mark. I left it there. Where is it.”

“Weren’t you just telling me –” Hieronymus started from somewhere to his left. Eurypon waved him off.

“Not important,” and then to his wife. “Where is it.”

Gorgo raised her eyebrows. Her fingers ghosted over her clavicle where the bitemark was, pressing on it slightly. “Under a concealer,” she drawled. “You helped me cover them a few hours ago, remember?”

“Oh,” Eurypon breathed out. Yes, he remembered something like that happening. They needed a lot of concealer. “Okay, then.” He settled down.

“Is that –”

“Very normal. Don’t pay it any mind. He’ll snap out of it once he’s sobered up.” Gorgo said. “Well, for the most part.”

Meanwhile Audata, her white hair in a disarray and with a soft pink hue on her cheeks, plopped down next to Eurypon. In comparison, she was a much happier drunk.

Black jacket already lost somewhere, she messily undid the first few buttons of her white shirt. With her legs crossed and one hand behind the chair, she made a striking picture.

“Is she –”

“Normal,” Hieronymus confirmed just as Gorgo did a minute ago. “She… gets a little sloppy when she drinks.”

Both of them turned as one to look at their spouses. Side by side, they made a funny duo.

“Oh, just look at them,” Audata suddenly perked up from her chair. She cooed, pointing at someone in the middle of the room. “Aren’t they just the cutest?”

“Who,” Eurypon asked, his mind immediately going back to his son. He hoped Mydeimos had managed to escape from that pervert's clutches. Found some excuse to slip away. Gone to bed early or something. Really, anything would work.

He grimaced, his thoughts souring instantly as reality hit him.

His son didn't want to get away from that pervert. His son was probably with that pervert right now, doing gods knew what, completely by choice and his own free will.

Eurypon took a long drink from his glass and tried not to think about it. Tried not to think about the scarf incident. Tried not to think about the constantly red cheeks and shy smiles. Tried not to think about the fact that he had apparently raised a child who willingly sought out the company of that blue-eyed menace that kept groping him every chance he got.

Gods, he was no better than Hieronymus when it came to raising his child. At least, Eurypon amended, Hieronymus had the excuse of being perpetually oblivious. Eurypon had no such defense. He'd seen things. He'd chosen to ignore them. He was complicit.

“No one,” Gorgo's voice cut through his spiral, calm and deliberate. “You drink your water.”

Eurypon obediently took another sip from the glass. His mind already drifted away.

(Away from the thoughts of his son and the pervert. From his pervert loving son. From the terrible, horrible, no-good realization that his baby boy had grown up and fallen for someone Eurypon had spent years calling a brat – the one with the ‘funny looking face’ for Gods’ sake – and who was now groping his son in some dark corner of their house.

Gods, what has he done?)

“Are we sure they’re not already together…” Hieronymus voice floated through the haze, speculative and almost morbidly curious.

“Who knows!” Audata’s response was cheerful. But she was also very, very drunk so Eurypon allowed it.

“Personally, I wouldn’t be surprised but Mydeimos would’ve told us. He’s so bad at keeping secrets.”

Eurypon froze, his mind immediately focusing on what Gorgo just said.

“What secrets.”

Audata peered at him over the rim of her glass, her amber eyes looking at him curiously as if she only just noticed there was someone sitting beside her.

Eurypon stared back.

Audata blinked.

Eurypon blinked back.

The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken implications.

“Should we –”

“Don’t.” Gorgo's voice was soft but firm. “I want to see where this goes.”

“Gorgo.”

“Shh!”

After another few seconds of this sudden stare down, Audata asked. “Do you think they’re dating?”

“Who.”

“Phainon and Mydei.”

“Mydeimos,” Eurypon corrected automatically. Once the question registered, he snorted. “No.”

Audata tilter her head, her hair falling down her shoulders in messy waves. “Why not? They’re close.”

“They are,” Eurypon conceded with a nod. Close didn't begin to cover it and he wasn't about to open that particular door right now, but, “I’d know if they were together.”

“How so?” she asked in a curious but slightly detached voice.

“Phainon’s a pervert,” Eurypon shrugged as if it explained everything.

“Eurypon!”

“No, he’s not!”

“He is,” Audata confirmed in the same calm tone. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Darling?” Hieronymus started but Gorgo clamped a hand around his mouth. Her eyes silently told him to stay quiet.

Audata gave both her husband and Gorgo a look. “He is,” but then she waved her hand. “’Is fine, though. Mydei likes it.”

Eurypon made a face as if he'd just bitten into something sour. “He does, doesn’t he.”

“Mhm. So?”

Eurypon thought for a second. He shrugged. Whatever. “If they were together, I would have caught them making out at least once already – and,” Eurypon raised a finger, looking pointedly at his audience. “I haven’t for now – because Phainon is a pervert and Mydeimos... Mydeimos is a horrible, horrible enabler that can’t say no to that boy.”

He dropped his hand and slumped back in his chair, the picture of parental grievance.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” he gestured vaguely in the direction where his son was presumably with that pervert at this very moment. “It’s awful,” he complained.

Audata made a quiet noise, patting him on the shoulder. Her expression was full of sympathy. “He’s always been like that, wasn’t he? Ever since he was a small child.”

“Yeah,” Eurypon confirmed, his eyes getting a slightly misty sheen. “And now look at him. All grown up.”

“Going to college soon…” Audata said in the same soft voice. Suddenly she perked up. “Oh! But imagine!” she rounded on Eurypon who nearly fell off his chair from her sudden mood change. Audata grabbed him by the shoulders. “Imagine! If they go to the same university! Wouldn’t it be so sweet! They would never have to part!” she let go of Eurypon’s shoulders and, with a happy laugh, she jumped into her bewildered husband’s arms.

Eurypon shuddered in his seat from that horrible, absolutely detestable thought.

Nikador, hear his plea. Eurypon may have sinned in the past, may have lied and did bad things that still kept him up at night but surely it was nothing that deserved this sort of punishment? Surely, there must be some mercy for him in his God’s heart?

Surely?

Bloodshot eyes narrowed as the group of people in front of them parted and he found Phainon and Mydeimos again. No longer in the corner; this time they were talking to some of their friends in the middle of the room. Phainon’s hand was wrapped around Mydeimos’ neck, his nose buried in strawberry blond locks.

Mydeimos let out a small laugh at something their classmate – the same judgy one, Eurypon remembered him – said and Phainon, just as Eurypon expected, did not like that. He whispered something into Mydeimos’ ear and, just as Eurypon expected, Mydeimos turned his head to reply, his attention diverting from their classmate to the clingy best friend at his side.

Just as Eurypon expected, there was no distance between their faces. Just as Eurypon expected, both of them didn’t move as their eyes lingered on each other. And just as Eurypon expected, Phainon, the damn mutt, not only smiled but went as far as to close the almost non-existent distance between their faces to rub their noses against each other, mumbling something that made Mydeimos’ face go all soft and open.

Seeing that, the unlucky classmate laughed awkwardly and after another second of third-wheeling whatever the hell Phainon and Mydeimos was, he bolted away with some excuse.

The half empty glass of ice-cold water shattered in Eurypon’s hand.

Nikador… Anyone, Eurypon pleaded, don’t let them get into the same college. Please, he closed his eyes when he noticed a pale hand sneak under his son’s shirt.

He turned away. He did not want to see that.

Anyone. Please. Have mercy.

*

“We got our acceptance letters today,” Mydeimos said out of nowhere one day when they were elbows deep into preparing dinner.  

Eurypon chocked on the apple he stole from his son a minute ago. Gorgo thumped him on the back so hard he choked on it once more. “What?” he managed to finally rasp out.

“Mhm,” their son said, looking dejected. Paying zero mind to whatever was going on with his parents, he continued to chop the onion, his knife work impeccable as always.

“What is it? Did you not get into your first choice?”

Eyes still lowered, Mydeimos shook his head. The onion looked… very, very finely chopped. “No. I got in.”

“Then what is the problem?” Gorgo wiped her hands on a towel and rounded on their son.

“Me and Phainon,” Mydeimos continued hesitantly. “We didn’t get into the same college.”

Holy shit, Eurypon dropped his stolen apple in shock. His lips were twitching in a barely contained glee. Gods were real.

He couldn’t believe his prayers were heard.

“But,” Mydeimos suddenly raised his head, looking hopefully at his parents. “Our colleges are very close to each other and we thought… That, all things considered, it might be better if we could move in together. We found an apartment that is close to both of our schools, the neighborhood is good and the rent is not high. We checked everything; it’s prefect,” and before either Eurypon or Gorgo could say anything, he hurriedly added. “If you’re okay with it, of course. Phainon’s parents already agreed.”

Eurypon’s smile dropped.

And here they were.

The damn traitors.

“Really. Did they now,” he gritted out. He slowly turned to his smiling wife. Already knowing what she was about to say he still tried, “Gorgo…”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea!” his beloved wife, his one and only, his soulmate – the person he would fall in love over and over again no matter the lifetime – clapped her hands together with the unmistakable glee of someone who knew exactly what she was doing.

She looked at him impishly. Eurypon felt his eye start to twitch.

“Show us the pictures!”

He dropped his head on the kitchen counter with a loud groan.

Beside him, Gorgo slid gracefully to their son's side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pressing a featherlight kiss to the top of his head. Mydeimos leaned into the touch automatically as he fumbled with his phone, his nerves making his hand shake a little. He showed Gorgo some pictures, details spilling from his mouth in a hurry as if he expected his parents to change their minds any minute now and was trying to prevent that from ever happening. He kept throwing short glances in Eurypon’s direction, watching out for his reaction.

“This looks great,” Gorgo said, barely sparing the pictures a second glance. Her eyes were fixed on her husband instead, sharp and knowing. She shot him a pointed look. “Right, Eurypon?”

Eurypon sighed. He raised his head. Met his wife’s eyes and saw Mydeimos’ quiet but hopeful expression.

Damn it, he thought. Faced with his wife and son, united in their silent campaign, Eurypon folded instantly. Fine. You win.

“Yes,” still a bit peeved but the word came out softer than he intended. His son’s face brightened. Just so he could see that expression again. Eurypon felt something in his chest crack open all over again. Just to be the one who put it there. “It’s a good idea. Now, repeat everything you just said but slower. And show me the pictures.”

Eurypon walked over to his family; Gorgo on one side, he on the other and Mydeimos between them. Just as it was meant to be.

Gorgo’s warm hand found his behind their son’s back. She gave him a lightly squeeze. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

‘Thank you,’ she mouthed. Her gold eyes, the color of molten honey – same shade as their son’s – were shinning with a soft glow as she looked at him.

The corner of Eurypon’s lips twitched. He shook his head, his expression fond, and put one hand on Mydeimos’ shoulder, leaning forward to get a better look at the layout of the apartment their boy had chosen.

The apartment their boy had chosen with that boy.

Well. Some things couldn't be helped.

Still, he squeezed Gorgo’s hand in return.

*

“Okay,” Eurypon wiped the sweat on his forehead with his arm. “That should be it.” He looked around, appraising their hard work.

Somewhere behind him Gorgo let out a soft grunt as she straightened out. “Damn it. You really start to feel your age when you help your youngsters move into a new apartment.” She joined Eurypon and looked around. “Too bad that Audata and Hieronymus couldn’t join us today but the boys weren’t lying – this apartment is good. Much better than the one we had back in the day.”

The two-bedroom apartment the boys chose was in a nice quiet neighborhood. They were correct in choosing the placement – it was right between their universities, making it easy for both of them to travel daily to their schools.

The apartment itself was flooded with light, sunlight pouring from the many windows and the small balcony that faced a nearby park. The apartment had a fully equipped kitchen – which was a must because both boys loved cooking – two medium sized bedrooms, a big bathroom and a living room that could house a small group of people if the boys ever decided to invite some friends over.

All in all, it was a nice cozy place.

Eurypon shot his wife a dirty look. “Excuse you, our apartment was amazing.”

“We had one bedroom and no private space – Krateros practically lived with us and you complained about it nonstop. And that girl,” Gorgo snapped her fingers, trying to remember the name. “The one with the pigtails. She always crashed on our couch. Still don’t know who she was.”

Eurypon shrugged. “Not sure myself but she left enough food for us so, you know, it wasn’t like she was free loading. She practically kept us alive with her cooking.”

“A good person. Wonder what happened to her.”

“I think she was in a history course,” Eurypon mused as he shot a quick text to Mydeimos asking when he and Phainon will join them. He pocketed his phone. “Maybe we will meet at our twenty-year alumni gathering.”

Gorgo quirked an eyebrow. “Think we’d be able to recognize her? We don’t even know her name.”

“Eh,” Eurypon shrugged, tilting his head to look at the neon yellow blanket that was lying innocently on the cream couch. The blanket had weird purple shapes that might have been flowers or the result of a dye explosion all over it. From this distance, Eurypon couldn't quite make out the pattern. He squinted harder, as if his sheer disapproval would reveal the truth.

Who the hell even bought something like that?

He replied absentmindedly to his wife, “hopefully she kept the pigtails. And her hair color was very distinctive, so there is a chance.” And then unable to hold himself back he pointed at the offending blanket, “Okay, what the hell is that?”

Gorgo glanced at it. “A gift from their friend, I assume.”

“What friend?” The question came out sharper than intended, but Eurypon couldn't help it. What kind of friend gave someone a blanket that looked like it had been designed by a colorblind toddler on a sugar high? What kind of people did his son associate with and why didn’t he know about it?

“I think it was from Mydeimos’ teammate? They got in the same university. Leo… Leo something. Leonnius? Yes, that’s the name.”

“Well,” Eurypon took another look at the sinfully ugly blanket. The purple splashes – definitely not flowers, he'd decided; they were too chaotic for flowers – seemed to mock him. “What a nice lad. You sure he’s not secretly plotting Mydeimos’ death?”

“Be nice. It’s a good blanket.”

“If you want to get blind, maybe. Does it glow in the dark? I feel like it should glow in the dark.”

“It does not,” Gorgo replied but her tone was unsure as she walked to the couch. She brought the blanket to her face and took a closer look. She raised her eyebrows, appreciatively. “Surprisingly, a good quality. And it’s very soft. No wonder the boys kept it.”

Eurypon scoffed. “Phainon likes everything yellow and Mydeimos is too kind to throw away something that was gifted to him.” He wrinkled his nose. “This blanket needs to be burned.”

“No burning our blankets!” Phainon’s voice suddenly cut in. He and Mydeimos entered the room, dragging multiple heavy suitcases with them. A familiar looking man with long pinkish hair followed after, greeting Eurypon and Gorgo with a polite smile.

Phainon heaved, dragging a hand through his messy white hair. “And no burning this blanket in particular. It’s nice!”

Eurypon looked at him with the most judgment he could master. Which was a lot of judgement. Years of practice had refined his disapproving glare into a fine art. Too bad Phainon had seen that look directed at him so many times over the years that it had long since lost its original intent. The boy didn't even flinch. “Of course you think that.”

Before Phainon could reply, Mydeimos interjected. “Mother, father,” he pointed at the boy next to him. “This is Hephaestion. You met a few times before but I didn’t have time to make proper introductions.”

Eurypon squinted at him. The boy looked very familiar.

“Nice to meet you, Hephaestion. I’m Gorgo,” his wife shook the boy’s hand. “You were on the same sports team as Mydeimos, weren’t you? I think I remember seeing you compete.”

Yes, he remembered seeing him on the field but, Eurypon tilted his head. It was something else. Where had he seen the boy?

He looked so familiar but for some reason Eurypon just couldn’t place where he’d seen him.

Hephaestion smiled, his cheeks a bit red. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Kremnos. Mydeimos has spoken a lot about you.”

Gorgo waved her hands with a laugh. “Hopefully nothing too bad!” And then she added, “you’re one of Mydeimos’ close friends, please, none of that formality. Just call me Gorgo.”

Hephaestion smiled but didn’t reply. It was obvious the boy was too polite to take on Gorgo’s offer. He turned to Eurypon his hand outstretched. “Mr. Kremnos –”

“Have I seen you somewhere?” Eurypon interrupted, looking closely at the boy. Long hair with a pink hue, same age as Mydeimos, lean but sturdy frame. The boy had a bit of a pale look to his face but his brown eyes were bright with life.

Hephaestion blinked owlishly at Eurypon. His hand was still outstretched. “The school competitions…?”

Eurypon brushed him off. “No. I remember that. Somewhere else. You look very familiar.”

Mydeimos, who watched their interaction from the sidelines with Phainon wrapped all around him, finally spoke up. “The recent party? I invited Hephaestion but he couldn’t stay for long.” He narrowed his eyes as he looked at Eurypon. “You might have seen him there.”

Eurypon snapped his fingers and pointed at Mydeimos. “Yes! Exactly there!” He turned back to Hephaestion and grabbed his hand in a handshake. Hephaestion whole body shook along. “You’re that,” judgmental third wheeling classmate. “Classmate. Yes, I remember now. It’s nice to officially meet you!”

“The feeling,” the poor boy managed to say. His whole face was red. “Is mutual. Mydeimos… Has told me a lot about you.”

And he calls his son ‘Mydeimos’, too, Eurypon thought, heart swelling with unexpected warmth. After so many years of being subjected to the butchering of his son’s name, he quickly learned to appreciate every person that still called his son properly. Gorgo had chosen the name for a reason, damn it. What a nice kid!

Even though Eurypon was drunk during that night, Hephaestion’s expression of intense judgement was etched into his mind. He wasn’t sure what the boy’s true feelings were but that judgement alone was enough for them to become best friends in Eurypon’s mind.

Krateros should meet this boy. They must expand their support group.

“Okay, that’s enough. You’re about to tear this boy’s hand off,” Gorgo’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked down – Hephaestion’s hand was still clasped in his own and was starting to look suspiciously red. Eurypon immediately let go.

“Ah, my apologies,” Eurypon cleared his throat, ignoring the suspicious looks his son was sending him. He asked Hephaestion, “did you get into the same school as Mydeimos? Or are you here help the boys move in?”

“Kind of both? I did get in the same school as Mydeimos but it’s not why I’m here,” Hephaestion responded. He rubbed lightly at his hand behind his back, trying to get some life back into it. He smiled good-naturedly, “I rented out a place with a friend, not far from here. I thought I’d help them with the move in and show them around.”

Phainon raised his head from Mydeimos’ neck where it was buried for the last five minutes. “And we both appreciate it,” he grinned at the other boy, utterly unrepentant. “Say, is there a good bakery around? I fear Mydei wouldn’t be able to survive long without his pastries.”

Mydeimos made a noise of protest, elbowing him in the side but Phainon, the persistent bastard, didn’t even twitch. He looked down at Mydeimos and with a mocking smile blew hot air on his ear, making the boy go pliant in his embrace in less than a second.

Eurypon made a face. Whatever that was. He shook his head and peered curiously at the suddenly quiet Mydeimos. What has his son gotten himself into?

Hephaestion, his eyes empty and smile twitching, took a seat on the couch. Face pointedly turned away from Phainon and Mydeimos and with his hands gripping the cursed neon blanket, he replied in a flat, resigned voice. It was the voice of someone who had seen too much. Eurypon could sympathize. “Yes. There is a good bakery around – the one on the opposite street has good strawberry shortcakes. And their honeycakes are just as good, or so I’ve heard from Peucesta. I myself am not really big on sweets, so you’d have to try it for yourself.”

“That’s good,” Gorgo said, though her attention had clearly drifted. She was watching Mydeimos with wary eyes when she saw him go red in the face after Phainon whispered something to him. She cleared her throat, looking pointedly at her dazed son. “I’m sure Mydeimos would love to try them out.”

The sharpness of her tone cut through whatever haze Phainon had induced. Mydeimos perked up immediately, his frame going straight and eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to remember where he was and what was happening. Face still flushed, he replied a beat too late. “Yes, I would love to.”

“In fact,” Phainon smoothly interjected. He laid his head on Mydeimos shoulder and wrapped his hands around Mydeimos waist. He blinked innocently at them. “I think we just might do that right now.”

“We… Huh? No, that’s –” Mydeimos started, then stopped. Blinked as the words finally registered. His eyes snapped into focus and he glared at Phainon, his lips pulling back into a snarl. “You bastard –”

“Nope! Not hearing you!” Phainon smiled as he danced out of Mydeimos’ reach with the practiced agility of someone who had done this many times before. He flashed a grin at Gorgo and Eurypon, who sat on the couch in a perplexed silence. “We will see you guys in a bit. Make yourself at home!”

And then he was gone, bolting out the apartment door with Mydeimos hot on his heels.

“Stop running, you asshole!” Mydeimos' voice echoed from the hallway, furious and mortified in equal measure. “You promised to never do that in public!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” a loud laugh that was closely followed by a panicked wheeze. “No! Not my hair!”

“That’s what you get for breaking your promise!”

“I said I was sorry! Do you want me to go bald?!”

“Yes! That’s the least you deserve! Now stop squirming so I can punch you in the face!”

The door slowly swung shut behind them, muffling the chaos into a distant background noise.  

Hephaestion stared at the wooden floor. His hands hadn't moved from the blanket.

“I will have to learn how live with that for the foreseeable future, won’t I,” Hephaestion mumbled, staring at the wooden floor. “That’s going to be my life for the next four years. Maybe more.”

Eurypon looked at him with genuine sympathy. He knew exactly what the boy was going through. He'd lived through the same thing himself, starting from that cursed Valentine's Day that had changed his life forever.

“Hopefully, it won’t be as bad as when they were children,” Eurypon tried to comfort him. “Back then they always cried when they were separated. Always acted as if they haven’t seen each other for decades and not just thirty minutes.”

Hephaestion looked at him, his expression empty as they listened to the weird noises still coming from the hall. “They still do that.”

Eurypon blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Without the tears but they still do that.”

Another muffled shout filtered through the door, followed by what sounded suspiciously like Phainon shrieking.

“Then,” Gorgo clasped a strong hand on his shoulder. “We will keep you in our thoughts. Call us if you ever need anything.”

“Therapy included,” Eurypon added helpfully.

At least, he exchanged glances with his wife, it won’t be them suffering this time.

*

They got a call a few months later.

Eurypon and Gorgo had just finished unpacking the newly bought groceries – more like wine and snacks for their usual Friday movie night – into Audata and Hieronymus fridge when Gorgo’s phone suddenly started vibrating on the kitchen counter.

Audata threw a short glance at the name and frowned. She wiped her hands with a towel and passed the phone to Gorgo. “Why is Hephaestion calling you?”

Gorgo blinked as she answered the call. “No idea. Hephaestion? Hello?” hearing no response she tried again. “Is everything alright?”

Eurypon straightened out from his crouch near the freezer when he saw her looking at him. He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow.

Gorgo shook her head, phone still pressed to her ear.

“Give it to me,” Eurypon held out his hand. Gorgo passed him the phone. “Hephaestion, this is Eurypon speaking. Can you hear me?”

Still no response. Only the distant sounds of booming music could be heard, as if the phone owner was somewhere at a party.

Eurypon frowned at the phone. “Maybe he called on accident?”

“A butt dial,” Audata nodded. “Probably. They’re at a party right now, no? Phainon mentioned a few days ago that they wanted to go out today,” she shrugged, grabbing four wine glasses from the shelf.

“What is taking you all so long, the movie is about to –” Hieronymus’ head popped into the room. Eurypon noticed that he was clad in some hoodie with a pikachu print. A thing he probably stole from Phainon. “What’s going on?”

Eurypon shrugged. “Not sure. Hephaestion called Gorgo and,” he vaguely pointed at the phone clutched in his hand. “No response. Just some music in the background.”

Hieronymus furrowed his brow, confused. “An accidental call? They should be at a party right now. Do you think something went wrong?”

Gorgo shook her head. “I doubt it. It should be a small gathering – around fifteen to twenty people; all friends from their high school and new friends the boys made in their universities.”

“How do you even know that?”

Gorgo nodded in Eurypon’s direction. “You know how he gets when Mydeimos is involved. He checked everyone twice over.” She rolled her eyes, her shoulders slightly relaxing as she remembered that the chances of anything going wrong at the party were close to a zero. “So, it was most likely a butt dial, as Audata said. Let’s go watch the movie.”

Just as everyone nodded and made their way to the living room, the phone still held in Eurypon’s hand suddenly came alive. A hesitant voice could be heard through the speaker. “Hello?”

Eurypon looked at the phone. He realized he forgot to hang up.

He put the phone on speaker. “Hephaestion?” The others three adults looked at him. “You alright? You called Gorgo and then weren’t responding. We thought something happened with you or the boys.”

“No, no,” Hephaestion hurriedly replied. His voice was a bit slurred. “Everything is fine. I must have accidently called Mrs. Kremnos when I was taking a nap. I apologize for worrying you; Mydeimos is okay. Phainon too.”

“That’s good,” Eurypon breathed out. Something unfurled in his chest. “Do you need anything?”

“You sound tired,” Gorgo added.

“No, I’m fine,” came Hephaestion’s tired reply. “Just woke up, that’s all. My apologies.”

“You’re okay, boy. No need for this. Okay, then. Call us if you need –”

Before Eurypon could finish his sentence, a loud noise came from the speakers.

Eurypon exchanged glances with others. He opened his mouth to ask if the boy was okay, when someone finally spoke.

It was not Hephaestion.

“Fucking finally,” the newcomer said, breathing heavily. “I found you. What the hell are you doing here?”

Audata quirked an eyebrow at the brash tone. She looked at Eurypon’s baffled expression and tried to bite back her laughter.

“Was sleeping,” came Hephaestion’s quiet voice. It didn’t sound as clear as before; the boy must have moved away. “Leonnius…”

“Of course. Sleeping. I always forget you’re a sleepy drunk,” Leonnius apparently mumbled. “Anyway, I’m staying with you. No way am I coming back there. Not until these assholes learn how to behave.”

“Hephaestion,” Eurypon tried to interrupt but the phone was too far away. The boys didn’t hear him.

“Leonnius –”

“Can you believe it? Like, we all knew it would happen soon but holy shit what the actual fuck? They nearly devoured each other! I need to bleach my eyes; I was not supposed to see what Phainon’s hands were doing with Mydeimos’ ass! I did not want to see that!”

Everyone in the room blanched.

“Leonnius –”

“No, I get it. Seven minutes in heaven, emotions are high and all that – the tension between them is crazy by the way, was it always like this? – but was there any need to stay in the closet for half an hour? And then nearly fucking each other too? Seriously, what the hell is wrong with them?!” the man continued to rant.

“Leonnius, I don’t think –”

“Right, you weren’t there for the spin the bottle. Good for you! You didn’t miss much besides, you know, Phainon and Mydeimos eating each other’s faces. Again. The bottle wasn’t even pointing at them! I expected this from Phainon but Mydeimos?!”

“Leonnius!”

“What?”

“Mydeimos’ parents are on the line,” Hephaestion replied weakly. There was some shuffling – he must have shown his friend the still ongoing phone call.

“…”

Silence.

For a moment everyone was frozen. Only Leonnius’ words echoed in their heads.

Phainon and Mydeimos. Phainon and Mydeimos. Phainon and Mydeimos.

Eurypon knew, he knew it was bound to happen, knew it was written in the stars, knew it was inevitable. He'd accepted it. Kind of, sort of made peace with it.

But to find out about it like this?!

His legs gave out. He dropped onto the couch with a long, despairing groan that seemed to come from somewhere deep in his soul.

“What a shitshow,” Eurypon muttered to no one in particular.

He stared at the ceiling with empty eyes.   

How had Eurypon gotten here? What had he done to deserve a universe that revealed his son's relationship status through a stranger's exasperated outburst over bad speakers?

“How,” he whispered to the ceiling, “is that my life.”

“Phainon’s,” Hieronymus’s voice suddenly cut through Eurypon’s mini existential crisis. His tone was delicate as if he didn’t want to spook the boys. “Phainon’s parents are also here. You’re on speaker.”

“Oh,” one of them replied softly. The boys were definitely spooked. “H-hi, Mrs. and Mr. Khaslana.”

“Hello, boys.”

Gorgo poked Eurypon’s cheek from the side. He slowly turned his head to her, looking at her with dead eyes.

The movie was long forgotten.

Gorgo gave him a small smile and then spoke to the panicked boys on the phone. “It’s alright. So, tell us. How long has this been going?”

“How long has what been going?” Leonnius, the poor soul, tried to play dumb.

Gorgo was not having it. She asked, her tone pleasant. “How long have Mydeimos and Phainon been together?”

There was a scuffle before finally Hephaestion answered. “It’s… One day? Technically?”

“What do you mean ‘technically’,” Eurypon asked in a dead voice.

“Well, you know…” the boy quietened down. “You know how they are, Mr. Kremnos. Today was a surprise for everyone.”

“So, they haven’t been together for months and we were the only ones unaware?”

“No,” Hephaestion mumbled. “I can’t say what is going on in their apartment but there wasn’t much of a change in their relationship before today. At least, not in public.”

Audata, who was the only one left standing, hummed. “Alright, boys. Thank you for telling us. Intentional or not but we will be speaking with our kids later. We’re sorry they made you uncomfortable.”

“It wasn’t –”

“No matter. We will speak to them. Call us if you need anything.”

“Mrs. Khaslana –”

“Have fun and be safe! Bye!” She ended the call with a decisive tap and turned to face her husband and their friends, all three of them seated on the couch and the floor in various states of emotional distress. “Okay. Anyone wants to get drunk?”

Three hands shot into air as one.

“Thought so.”

*

“You know,” Eurypon slurred. He frowned. For some reason there was three Hieronymus in front of him. “I kinda feel cheated.”

Five bottles of wine and three shots of tequila later, Eurypon felt like he was on cloud nine. His body felt pleasantly heavy and his shoulders were finally light from the worries that plagued him for days on end. Half-sitting, half-lying on the couch, he threw his head back, feeling it slowly loll on the pillow that Gorgo placed there before she went to grab more snacks from the kitchen.

His friend yawned from where he sat sprawled on the floor, head resting directly on the wooden coffee table. “Why?”

Eurypon waved his hand. His eyes were closed. “I was there when everything happened with our boys. Feels wrong that I missed their first kiss.”

“You didn’t miss anything,” Hieronymus snorted, the sound muffled against the table.

“You know what I mean.”

Hieronymus turned his head, squinting in Eurypon's general direction – or at least somewhere in the vicinity of where Eurypon's voice had come from. The accuracy was questionable at best. “Did you want to see them make out?”

Eurypon’s eyes snapped open from shock. “What?! No!” Just the thought of that made him shudder in disgust. He did not want to know anything about his son’s… Eurypon cringed, sex life. Bleugh. “Don’t ever imply something like that ever again.”

His friend shrugged. “Your fault. You knew how you sounded.”

“Disgusting.”

Hieronymus pointed at him with a shaky finger. “Exactly.”

“That’s not –” Eurypon started. He closed his eyes once more. “Eh, nevermind. You won’t even remember anything I said tomorrow.”

“I won’t,” Hieronymus nodded. He put his head on the table and rolled the empty wine glass around. “What do you think of them getting together?”

“Are they, though?” Eurypon mused. “We don’t really know if they will get together after this. Maybe they’re just playing around. You know how kids are.”

The thought that would have sent him into apocalyptic rage just a few hours ago, now sounded incredibly funny.

Perhaps it was tequila speaking. Wouldn’t be the first time it happened.

Hieronymus didn’t share his tequila induced amusement. “I can’t imagine them doing that. Can you?”

“Not really, no. Would be funny, though.”

“You’re actually sick in the head,” Hieronymus barked out a laugh. Sky-blue eyes peered at him from behind the fringe. “Weren’t you always complaining about their ‘annoying pining’?”

“Kinda got used to it. Don’t get me wrong – it’s still annoying,” his friend snorted, not disagreeing. “But,” Eurypon shrugged. “I knew what to expect from them. Now… I’m not so sure. It’s not a bad thing, though.”

Feeling a familiar warm body join him on the couch, he shuffled a bit, making more space for Gorgo. Eyes still closed, he wrapped one hand around her shoulders, pulling her to his side. Honeyed scent washed over him as he felt his wife’s golden curls – the same as they were over twenty years ago – brush over his neck. Eurypon buried his nose, breathing in deeply, and then pressed his lips to the soft golden strands.  

Something in his chest unwound.

“What isn’t a bad thing?” murmured Gorgo at his side. Her voice was as soft as a cloud on a lazy sunny day.

Eurypon hummed. “Phainon and Mydeimos getting together.”

“I knew you’d warm up to them eventually,” long fingers sneaked between the gaps of his shirt, softly caressing his warm skin. “Mydeimos was worried that if it ever came to it, you’d never accept them. You’ll need to talk to him.”

“Phainon was worried too,” Audata added from her place on the floor. She rested her head on her husband’s lap, playing with his hand. An unopened bag of dried fruits was laying beside her. “He never said it outright but he doesn’t think you like him that much.”

Eurypon snorted. “That boy sure is something – If I didn’t like him, I’d never let Mydeimos anywhere close him.”

Even if Mydeimos asked for it, begged to be allowed to be friends with Phainon… If Eurypon got even one whiff of something suspicious from that boy no amount of pleading would change his mind. He’d move their family to a different city, switch Mydeimos to a different school if needed but his son wouldn’t be anywhere near someone both Eurypon and Gorgo had a bad feeling about.

Mydeimos was kind. Too kind sometimes.

Eurypon and Gorgo knew how cruel people, even kids could be. They’d never let their boy be used by someone else.

Thankfully, it never came to that. Phainon was a scoundrel but he was a familiar, well-meaning scoundrel that didn’t have even one malicious bone in his body. Little Mydeimos wasn’t so wrong when he first described him as a ‘puppy’.

The boy really did act like an overexcited needy pup when their son was nearby. No matter how much Eurypon hated to admit it… It was kind of cute.

Audata shrugged. “I tried telling him that but the kid is stubborn. He felt like he needed to prove himself to you. To earn your approval or something. I doubt today was planned; Phainon is a romantic. No matter how many weird things he says about Mydei’s body, I know he would have preferred to do everything by the rules. He’s a bit old fashioned when it comes to romance.”

‘Earn his approval,’ Eurypon mouthed. He huffed. Was he the villain in their love story? The obstacle, the main reason – or one of the major reasons – why the boys didn’t get together until now?

Would have they even found out about their relationship if it wasn’t for Leonnius’ big mouth and Hephaestion’s confused state during their call?

Somehow Eurypon doubted it.

Throughout his life he only had a few big goals – be a good husband, be a good businessman, be a good man. Then Mydeimos came along, a small bundle of sunshine wrapped in baby blankets. His face was so red when he was born and his screams were one of the loudest the nurses have heard in a very long time.

He was perfect.

Eurypon fell in love at the very first sight.

And so, a fourth goal was added to his list. Last but no less important.

Be a good father.

He felt that he might have failed a little in that regard.

He was overprotective by nature even if his wife or his son never gave him real reasons to worry about. Gorgo and Mydeimos, they were both so similar, so fiercely independent, so confident in their abilities. Leaders by nature, it was no wonder people flocked to them with constant praise on their lips.

To others Eurypon’s overprotectiveness might have seemed stupid. Unnecessary. Gorgo and Mydeimos were both strong, stronger than most people. They didn’t look like someone in need of protection.

But to Eurypon they were. That was his wife, a girl he knew since he himself was a little boy that loved to run away from the big empty house just for a small chance to get a glimpse of golden curls shining brightly in the sun and a big grin that has never failed to make his heart beat faster. That was his son, a bundle of joy and happiness that still looked at him with quiet stars in his eyes that were so similar to the eyes of his beloved. A boy that relied on him for support, for love. Who should never doubt that his father would always be in his corner, would always defend and protect him no matter what.

A worthy husband. A worthy father.

The only things he had ever wanted.

But maybe he went a little overboard with his protectiveness. Because for all his complaints… Eurypon could not imagine anyone who’d fit his son better than Phainon.

“I’ll talk to Mydeimos,” Eurypon said. He felt Gorgo’s fingers freeze on his chest. Without opening his eyes, he laid his hand over hers, pressing her fingers deeper into his skin. “I’ll call him tomorrow. No need to make the kids fret more than usual. It’ll be fine.”

It’ll be fine.

Eurypon believed it with all his heart.

*

“Darling?” Gorgo asked him a few minutes after he finished his talk with Mydeimos. “Everything okay?”

Eurypon shrugged. He leaned against the balcony railing, looking pensively in the distance. The summer heat has finally faded into the autumn chill. The trees have been slowly shedding their bright green crowns and the sky was awash with gray clouds. He heard the distant booms of thunder in the distance.  

It was about to rain.

Eurypon rubbed his hands, trying to warm up.

“Good. As well as you could possibly expect.”

They just finished talking to Mydeimos and Phainon. The boys video called first thing in the morning, sitting uncomfortably close, eyes alight with happiness and their faces blushing every three seconds. It was as endearing as it was embarrassing for everyone involved.

Gorgo and Eurypon were the first on their list to call, Audata and Hieronymus second. Mostly because they… wanted to deal with possible ‘issues’ Eurypon might have had with their relationship first before they could tell the happy news to Phainon’s parents.

“Oh?” Gorgo came closer, red fuzzy blanket trailing after her.

Eurypon shrugged again, “Calmed down Mydeimos.” He half-turned and sent his wife a lopsided grin. “Threatened Phainon.”

Gorgo snorted. “Please tell me you weren’t as banal as to threaten him with a classic ‘hurt my son and I hurt you’?”

“Who do you think I am? Of course not,” Eurypon fully turned around, grabbing the edges of Gorgo’s blanket to pull her closer to him. Fully leaning onto the balcony railing behind him, he brought his wife into his arms and kissed her forehead. He grinned. “Told him if he ever hurt Mydeimos, I’d sic you and Audata on him.”

“You’re impossible,” Gorgo laughed quietly into his collarbone.

“You love me. Physical threats would never work on that boy but emotional manipulation? Fair game, if you asked me.”

Gorgo left them mid call. She sent her husband a look, “Mydeimos, your father has something to tell you. I’ll be back in a few minutes. You,” she pointed at Eurypon and then at a slightly nervous Mydeimos. “Talk.”

Phainon twitched in his seat, his throat bobbing.

Eurypon sighed. “Alright. I guess we’re doing it like this.”

“That’s true. The boy has a very soft heart.” Gorgo smacked Eurypon’s bicep, smile twitching in the corner of her lips. “You’re evil.”

Eurypon chuckled and opened Gorgo’s blanket, wrapping it around both of them. He didn’t reply.

The wind has slowly picked up, tugging at their clothes. Eurypon shivered, feeling cold air slip between his sweater and the warm skin of his unprotected back. He blinked hard when the wind stirred Gorgo’s golden curls, sending the strands into his eyes.

He hugged her tighter.

“But you…”

“No, Phainon. I don’t. If I did, you would have never had a chance to get close to my son. Do you think you were the first one that had tried? Trust me, you weren’t.”

The thunder rolled in the distance.

“Am I getting old?”

Gorgo slipped her hands under his sweater. She hummed as her chilly hands spread across his lower back. “Aren’t we all?”

“So, what is your plan?”

“Father, we only just started dating –”

“I want to marry him.”

Silence.

Mydeimos turned to his boyfriend, his golden eyes wide. Phainon didn’t look at him; instead, he stared at Eurypon with hard eyes, his expression serious.

“…Phainon?”

Eurypon smiled. He shook his head, “Lies. You don’t look a day past your twenties.” He kissed her temple when a few silver strands of hair caught his eye. His heart squeezed. “Still as gorgeous as ever.”

“I know now is not the time,” Phainon continued. “We’re still students and we only just started dating but,” he looked away from frozen Eurypon and met Mydeimos’ eyes. His lips quirked into a small smile. “I know this was something I’ve wanted for a very long time. This is not and will never be a ‘have fun and forget’ kind of relationship for me. I plan to stick around.”

Mydeimos swallowed. His eyes were glued to his boyfriend, his voice quiet. “You can’t know that. In the future there might be someone –”

Gorgo smiled. She raised her head and put a little distance between them, palms flat against his chest. “Flatterer. And speaking of it – I’ve seen the way youngsters check you out when you’re not looking,” laughter danced in her bright eyes, the same teasing smile he fell in love with decades ago pulling small wrinkles on her face. “You still got it, old man. Do I need to worry about someone sweeping you off your feet from little old me?”

Two different voices merged into one – one young, with a lilt that could only belong to a boy in his early twenties, and the other older, slightly hoarse but with a commanding presence that could only be found in a man who had decades long experience.

Both belonged to two different people and yet despite their differences, both were burning with the same conviction.

“As if there is anyone that could ever hope to compare to you.”

*

“Pass me the salt, dear.”

Gorgo was flitting in their kitchen, red skirt swishing between her tanned legs. The sun danced across her skin, warming her open shoulders with its silent kisses as she hummed a song under her breath. Her golden curls were gathered in a bun, held together by an intricate wooden pin Mydeimos gifted her when he was fourteen. Hearing no movement, she turned around and smiled in Eurypon’s direction.

“Darling? The salt.”

Eurypon started in his place at the kitchen counter where he was watching his wife and quickly looked around.

Phainon and Mydeimos were visiting and Gorgo wanted everything to be perfect. Currently she was helping Audata with cooking and though her cooking has not changed much from what it used to be years ago, Eurypon could admit that, with clear directions and a healthy amount of supervision, she made a pretty good sous chef.

“Here,” he passed her the salt and with a quick thanks Gorgo turned back to the pots Audata left in her care.

“By the way,” she started. “Has Krateros said anything to you? When is he joining us?”

Eurypon checked his phone. “I called him a few minutes ago. He should be here in less than thirty minutes.”

“Good, good. The boys have missed their favorite babysitter.”

Eurypon snorted, “Right. Not like they didn’t see him every other day in their schools or anything.”

“You know it’s different,” she tried the soup and nodded, satisfied with the flavor. “There he is their teacher. Here he is their uncle. Krateros is a stickler for rules, I can’t imagine he made it easy for them.”

Eurypon knew he didn’t. Krateros worked part time as a history teacher in boys’ schools and even though he knew them since they were young, he has never indulged the boys in anything when it came to their studies. If anything, he was even stricter with them because he knew what exactly they were capable of when they actually applied themselves, and he refused to accept anything less.

But besides his role as their teacher, Krateros also happened to be Eurypon's best friend. And that friendship came with certain obligations. One of the most important ones among them was keeping Eurypon and Gorgo informed about everything involving Mydeimos and Phainon while they were away.

Krateros was a good source of information and he never skimped on details, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant.

It was a time-tested system. One that had served them well for years.

Eurypon’s phone pinged with a new message. He glanced at it. “Krateros is five minutes away.”

“Good. Now make yourself useful and go greet him. I need you both to set the table. Not sure when Hieronymus gets off work but,” Gorgo looked at the time as she continued to slowly stir the soup. “He should join you soon. Now go.”

“Yes, yes,” he dropped a kiss on her shoulder and with a small tug on a wayward curl that has managed to escape from her bun, he went outside, ready to welcome Krateros.

As soon as he was out of the house, his skin – slightly cool from the hours he spent under A/C – warmed up immediately. The sun was up high, playing hide and seek with the fluffy clouds that have dotted the bright blue summer sky. A light refreshing breeze tousled Eurypon’s hair as he breathed in the scent of blooming flowers from the garden that Audata helped them cultivate a few years ago.

The weather was nice; the weeks of constant summer heat and humidity were finally coming to an end.

The streets were empty – half of the residents decided to travel abroad for vacation, while another half was busy sweating bullets at work. Eurypon was neither – working from home had its perks and it was one of many. He hummed a little tune as he walked down their neighborhood, furtively looking around and trying to spot Phainon and Mydeimos.

The boys were staying with them for a week. They came home a few days ago and have been revisiting their favorite childhood places ever since.

Now that Phainon has started working in a prestigious law firm it wasn’t often that they could visit their parents together. Phainon has finished his masters a year before, and has started working soon after. The law firm in question was one of the best in their country much to Eurypon’s surprise. Not that he doubted the boy's skills; he'd watched Phainon argue his way out of trouble too many times to not respect his capabilities. But he also knew that the line to get an interview at Goldweaver LLP was miles long, staffed by hopeful graduates who would sell their souls for a chance. Getting an interview was nearly impossible, passing it was a feat reserved for the extraordinary.

Aglaea, the owner of the Goldweaver LLP, was a woman with an incredible, razor-sharp mind and eyes that seemed to be everywhere at once. She ran her firm like a general commanding an army – no wasted movements, no room for error. Even Eurypon, with his decades of experience and hard-won wisdom, was wary of her. He'd crossed paths with her type before; they were the kind of people who played chess while everyone else played checkers, who saw ten moves ahead while you were still figuring out your first.

And yet to Phainon she was no more than his beloved supervisor that has taken him under her wing as soon as the boy, fresh out of university and still green around the edges, was free to roam the world.

Mydeimos had explained it once, during one of those rare evenings when they'd all managed to gather together. She must have seen Phainon during one of the Debate Club events at Okhema University, he'd said. Had probably watched him eviscerate opponent after opponent with that infuriating blinding smile and sharp blue eyes.

A Debate Champion four years in a row – a record that still hadn't been broken, probably wouldn't be broken for a very long time. It was no wonder Aglaea had taken an interest in him. The boy was smart. Annoyingly, even obnoxiously but undeniably smart. 

Eurypon still remembered that time Phainon had come home after landing the position, vibrating with barely contained excitement, babbling about Aglaea this and Goldweaver that while Mydeimos watched him with that soft, fond expression on his face.

The boy had earned his place.

Eurypon looked around, trying to spot Krateros. Not seeing him anywhere yet, he took a seat on the bench right by the road.

That way he wouldn’t miss him.

Once he sat down his mind drifted back to the boys.

Mydeimos meanwhile was still in school. His business course had lasted a year longer and he was just finishing it this year. In no time, he’d be finally free of all school work. Eurypon knew with him, Gorgo and Krateros here, Mydeimos would never have to worry about securing a job – their family business was booming. Had been booming for years, actually, expanding in ways Eurypon hadn't quite anticipated when he'd first started. And the ‘Kremnos’ name carried weight. It opened doors and guaranteed opportunities that others could only dream of.

The boy was practically set for life.

(But Eurypon knew, even if Mydeimos hasn’t told him yet, he knew of the plans to open his own bakery, a little place of haven that would only belong to Mydeimos and Mydeimos alone.

Those long days spent helping Audata in her kitchen had left its mark.)

Eurypon stretched his arms up and over his head, and slouched a little harder on the bench.

Krateros should be here any minute.

Eurypon’s eyes slid over the houses on the opposite side of the road. He didn’t walk far from home – the houses were familiar. He knew who they belonged to.

The one with the dark green roof belonged to a single woman in her early thirties. Eurypon has talked to her a few times. Valerie was a nice girl with a loud parrot and with a horrible – horrendous even – taste in partners. Eurypon had met two of her exes and had spent both encounters resisting the urge to tell her to run. It was a shame, really, but at least she had the parrot. The bird seemed more reliable than any of the men she'd brought home.

In the house next to Valerie lived the Barlas, a family of four. Cute kids, annoying parents. Eurypon wasn’t their biggest fan but Gorgo loved them for some reason. Go figure. 

And right after that – just past the Barlas property line – sat the Khaslana house. It didn't look particularly special. Two stories, like most of the others on the street, with a light gray roof that had held up well against the elements. Sturdy construction. A certain charm to its proportions, maybe, but nothing that would make a passerby stop and stare. As far as houses went, it was pretty unassuming. 

Eurypon of thirty years ago would have never thought that such a place would belong to one of the best people he’d ever met in his life.

(But frankly speaking, Eurypon of thirty years ago was an ass. So, what he thought was entirely beside the point.)

He leaned heavily on the bench, propping one arm on his knee as he looked at the Khaslana house.

Audata was probably there, finishing up last preparations for Mydeimos’ birthday. It was right around the corner but she loved to prepare in advance. Must have been making some last-minute calls to her colleagues about their menu for the event.

Eurypon knew Gorgo had finished her part of preparations just the day before. Even if the party was small – small for their standards but perfect for Mydeimos – it was still a party. Gorgo has already sent the invitations to everyone close to their son and now they were just finalizing the details.

Eurypon made a silent note in his head to check if Mydeimos’ gifts were delivered. They should be in his hands by the end of this week but it never hurt to check.

He slowly breathed out as his eyes drifted across the flowers decorating their friends’ front porch. Blue, violet, yellow, baby pink – Eurypon didn’t know their names, has never showed much interest in flowers but he could appreciate their effect. It was the flowers that gave the house its unique charm, its lived-in warmth. Audata changed them every few months, rotating through colors and varieties like an artist refreshing a palette. She hadn't repeated herself so far. Or that's what Gorgo said, anyway.

Eurypon moved on to the spotless parking spot that was now missing its car because Hieronymus was still at work – probably annoying some poor soul with his relentless optimism. And, of course, the lush green lawn that Eurypon knew took Hieronymus no time to grow. Bastard had the hands of gold, everything he touched seemed to flourish, and he has never failed to shove that fact in Eurypon’s face.

He scoffed, his eyes lazily drifting across the corner of the back patio he could see from his bench when his eyes got caught on something. Eurypon blinked and looked closer.

It was… Phainon. Standing there on the patio, bathed in the warm glow of the sun. And next to him, close enough that their shoulders touched, stood Mydeimos. They were chatting quietly about something, heads tilted toward each other, body language natural and unguarded.

Eurypon knew Phainon was taking his son somewhere today. With nervous sweat beading on his forehead, he had told Eurypon and Gorgo that they might be a little late to the dinner party today. When Eurypon asked why, Phainon did not say anything, choosing to stay quiet, his smile full of quiet anxiety.

Neither Eurypon, nor Gorgo managed to pry the information from him so they let him be. The boys would come to them for help if they needed anything.

Eurypon silently stood up from the bench, all thoughts of Krateros forgotten.

Just because they failed to find out what Phainon had planned, didn’t mean they weren’t curious.

(Eurypon suspected that was half the reason why Gorgo had sent him out to greet Krateros and not to wait for him in the house, which would have been the more logical thing to do. Krateros had been in their neighborhood thousands of times. The chances of him suddenly getting lost were lower than zero.)

Shooting a quick look around in case anyone else was around, he crossed the road and crept up along the wall of the Barlas family house. Back against the wall and with an old tree right in front of him, Eurypon peeked out of his hiding place.

It was semi good – he could hear everything the boys said but the big tree and its thick branches made it hard to see what they were doing, only the patio itself was somewhat in his line of sight.

Eurypon sighed, preparing to strain his ears like he did in the past. He hadn’t had enough practice with that nowadays, what with the boys moving places and all.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Phainon asked.

Mydeimos twirled a yellow flower in his hand.

Hyacinth, something whispered in Eurypon’s mind. That was one of the flowers he remembered very well. Was hard not to when Phainon kept gifting them to Mydeimos back when they were kids.

The boy gave his mother so much grief with those gifts. Audata’s garden still felt the consequences of baby Phainon’s generosity.

“It is,” Mydeimos replied after a few seconds of silence. “Did your parents change the patio? The couches are new. They look great.”

Yes, they are, Eurypon puffed out his chest a little. He helped to pick these ones specifically.

“Mhm,” Phainon slowly walked around the little garden, getting uncomfortably close to Eurypon’s hiding place. He stopped and looked at his feet.

Eurypon held his breath and crouched a little behind the tree. Just in case. “Yeah. Your father helped.”

“He did? That’s good. Old man has good taste when it comes to furniture.”

Eurypon felt a small surge of pride. At least someone appreciated him.

Eurypon saw one of Phainon’s eyebrow fly up. He sounded doubtful. “Really? That cupboard on the second floor tells a different story.”

“Aunt Helen.”

“Nevermind,” Phainon immediately conceded.

Exactly, you little brat, Eurypon thought from his place. Don’t you dare doubt me.

Phainon turned around, his back now to Eurypon's hiding spot. The tension in Eurypon's shoulders eased slightly and he let out a breath he'd been holding.

“So,” Mydeimos drawled slowly. He took a seat on the new couches – the ones Eurypon had helped pick out, thank you very much – and put a pillow in his lap. “I’m not complaining but is there a reason for why we’re here?”

Bless him for being Gorgo’s son, Eurypon shifted slightly, trying to find an angle that didn't make his back and knees scream in pain. The crouch was killing him. Never one to beat around the bush.

“Right,” Phainon mumbled. “Okay.”

Eurypon inched closer and peeked out from behind the tree. Phainon was facing Mydeimos, his fists clenched. Eurypon raised his eyebrow when he saw the boy’s back muscles strain against the white t-shirt.

What’s gotten him so nervous? Eurypon curiously cocked his head to the side.

“Do you know that this is where we first met? Right here, at this place?” Phainon suddenly asked.

Eurypon saw Mydeimos blink. His hands unconsciously started to knead the pillow in his lap. “Here? I don’t remember this patio. Didn’t we meet on the road near your home?”

Phainon shook his head and took a step closer. “No. It was right here. The patio came later at my request. I,” he cleared his throat, looking away bashfully. “I wanted something to memorize the occasion.”

Eurypon and Mydeimos simultaneously raised their brows. “And you asked your parents to build a patio?”

Thank you, Eurypon silently directed at his son. Asking the right questions.

Phainon shrugged. “They already wanted to build something here; the place looked too empty. I just… gave them an idea, so to speak.”

“Whatever,” Mydeimos looked away, blush high on his cheeks. “Doesn’t explain why you dragged me here.”

“Yeah, I guess it doesn’t,” Phainon laughed as he roughly dragged a hand through his hair. His shirt rode up a few inches and Mydeimos eyes immediately zeroed in on the revealed patch of toned stomach. His eyes slowly followed the trail of white hair that disappeared behind Phainon’s trousers. He stared at it, not blinking.

Eurypon grimaced from behind the tree. Gross.

“I don’t even know why I’m so nervous. It’s not like you have no idea what I want to –” Phainon mumbled, the muscles in his arm flexing as he continued to pull on his hair.

Mydeimos hummed, clearly not listening to what his boyfriend was saying. His eyes darted between Phainon’s arms and his stomach, unsure of what he should focus on more.

Eurypon decided to ignore him, more concerned with what was going on with Phainon.

He already knew way too many things about his son’s sex life. Much more than he’d ever wanted to know but nothing he could do about it at this point. Phainon remained shameless, Mydeimos remained an enabler and the walls in their house remained despairingly thin.

Eurypon made a note to himself to buy better quality earplugs. He, unfortunately, was not blessed with Gorgo’s talent to sleep through an apocalypse.

He heard everything.

So, what was yet another gay panic from his son? Just another Tuesday for Eurypon.

“Even your father knows –” Phainon continued to say under his breath.

Eurypon perked up behind the tree. What was he supposed to know?

It seemed to wake up Mydeimos too. “My father?” he asked sharply, looking away from Phainon’s arms and focusing on his face. His hands stopped kneading the pillow in his lap. “What does my father have to do with whatever you want to tell me?”

Phainon blinked as if he just realized Mydeimos has heard everything. “Nothing.”

Mydeimos narrowed his eyes.

“No, seriously, your father has nothing to do with this. This is about us.”

‘About us’, Eurypon mouthed. He frowned. Thanks to Hieronymus and his inexplicable love for terrible romance movies, Eurypon had been subjected to a fair share of cheap dramas over the years. And this? He did not like the sound of that.

That was how the it's not you, it's me conversations started. Eurypon recognized the setup. The hesitant preamble, the careful avoidance of eye contact. The way Phainon shifted on his feet like he was bracing for impact. And if that was what Phainon was going for then Eurypon refused to silently live through that drama. Screw his cover and his aching knees, he’d march up to that boy and beat some sense into him.

Breaking up with his son. Hah! Who does he think he is!

Eurypon crossed his arms over his chest and mockingly raised his eyebrows.

He was ready. Aching knees or not – one chance and it’d be over.

Clearly, Mydeimos didn't fully share his father's sentiment. He sat there with infuriating calm, one eyebrow raised in that patient way of his, prompting Phainon to continue.

“Right, okay,” Phainon took a deep breath. “Here goes nothing.”

And then he dropped to his knees.

Mydeimos shot up from the couch like he'd been electrocuted. “What the –”

Fuck! Eurypon continued. His fingers dug into the tree. What the fuck was that boy doing!?

“No, sit down,” Phainon pulled Mydeimos back to the couch. “It… will be easier that way.”

Eurypon stared, frozen, his entire mental script derailed. This wasn't a breakup. This was... something else entirely.

What the hell was happening?

Phainon fell silent, slowly gathering his thoughts. Mydeimos dropped back to the couch, eyes fixed on his boyfriend’s face. His hands blindly found the pillow he was kneading a few minutes ago.

“Okay,” Phainon closed his eyes and breathed out. “I had a whole speech planned but,” he shrugged, opening his eyes and smiling helplessly at Mydeimos. “I don’t think I can remember it now.”

Eurypon practically plastered himself against the tree to see what was going on.

“We’ve known each other for so long. Went to school together, then university. We’ve lived together ever since we turned eighteen and,” Phainon continued, “there have almost been no moment in our lives when we weren’t by each other’s side. When we first met I,” he paused, and when he spoke again, there was a little bit of laughter in his voice – soft, self-deprecating. He ducked his head down, a rare moment of vulnerability. “Wasn’t the nicest to you. I teased you constantly, fought you and competed with you about the silliest things. I was a little nightmare. I don’t know how you tolerated me.”

Mydeimos' lips twitched. "You haven't changed much from that time."

The words were dry, but his breath hitched on the last syllable. Eurypon could hear it even from the distance between them.

Based on the private smile Phainon sent to Mydeimos, he’d heard it too. “Yeah. I didn’t. And yet you’re still here.”

“And yet I’m still here,” Mydeimos murmured with a soft voice.

Phainon swallowed, gently taking Mydeimos’ hands from the pillow. “I’ve been racking my brain, trying to come up with a speech that would even be half deserving of you but… I don’t think that’s possible.”

Eurypon bit his lip, trying to stay as quiet as possible. The corners of his eyes burned.

“Mydei,” Phainon raised his head. His eyes were blazing, the corners of his pink lips slightly quivering. “I’ve been in love with you ever since I was a little boy. Whenever I look back, there has not been a moment in my life where you were not there. Meeting you…” Phainon swallowed, his chest heaving and voice trembling at the edges.

Mydeimos pried one of his hands from Phainon’s hold and gently caressed his cheek with his own slightly trembling hand. He shuffled on the couch, bringing them closer and tenderly kissed the corners of Phainon’s eyes that were already wet with tears.

“Crybaby,” he teased quietly.

Phainon let out a wet laugh. “Perhaps. It’s all your fault anyway.”

“Oh? And what did I do?”

“Exist,” Phainon replied. “That alone is enough. You need to take responsibility.”

Mydeimos nodded, his golden eyes as bright as the sun. “I will. As soon as you actually ask the question.”

“You just refuse to make it easy for me, don’t you.” Mydeimos shrugged one shoulder, a soft smirk on his lips. Phainon laughed as he gathered himself together. He nodded and then continued after a few seconds. “Meeting you... was the best thing that has ever happened to me. When we first started dating, I told you and your father that my plan was always to marry you. If it wasn’t for,” he waved his hand in the air, “us being students and all, I would have married you as soon as you said ‘yes’ when I asked you on a date.”

Once more Mydeimos interrupted. “So, when you asked me on a date that was actually you asking me to marry you?”

“Yes. And you agreed back then; you don’t get to change your answer now. Be quiet.” Mydeimos pursed his lips, his eyes bright with humor. “We’ve been together for over six years. And we’ve been friends for even longer. I can’t, I don’t want to imagine a life without you. All this time I’ve been waiting until you were done with your studies, until we both could stand on our own two feet, and now that the end is close, I just… I couldn’t wait any longer.”

Phainon reached into his pocket and took out a dark red velvet box. He carefully held out the box and opened it, showing a beautiful gold ring, stark against the rich velvet. “I wanted to ask our moms for help but it would have ruined the surprise.” Phainon admitted, his voice rough at the edges. His hands tightened around the box. “Aglaea helped. I… wanted to pick the very best for you. Nothing else would have made the cut.”

Eurypon held his breath. His fingers dug even deeper into the tree, shoving splinters into the tender flesh of his hands.

Come on. Just ask. Ask already, he begged, his chest tight.

“Mydei,” Phainon held out the ring, his blue eyes were fixed on Mydeimos with an intensity that could have set the whole world on fire. “I wanted to formally ask you – will you marry me?”

Yes! Eurypon screamed internally, the word echoing through his head with a desperate force. Say yes!

So many years of watching them dance around each other, of pretending not to notice, the hyacinth flowers and the eavesdropping from behind closed doors. So many years of knowing this day would come, and yet…

So many years together and finally Phainon was asking the question that everyone was wondering about. Marriage. They knew it was coming but when neither Phainon, nor Mydeimos came to them for advice, they all thought the boys changed their minds and decided to wait for a few more years. That maybe a marriage could come later for them, after careers were settled and after life had sorted itself out.

Who could’ve known that all this time Phainon was just lying in wait.

Eurypon swallowed hard. His heart was pounding, his hands clammy. He peeked a little more from behind the tree, unable to help himself.

Waiting for the answer.

And then after what felt like hours – that in reality was no longer than five seconds – Mydeimos finally replied.

“Yes,” lips trembling and cradling Phainon’s face in his hands, holding it like it was something impossibly precious. His son smiled as he sat on the patio that was built on a little boy’s request simply because he wanted to forever remember the place where he first met his soulmate.

“Yes,” Mydeimos repeated, his voice full of quiet wonder. “I will marry you.”

Eurypon brought a fist to his lips as he watched the boys hug and murmur something to each other, their foreheads pressed together. Eyes closed, their bodies fit into each other like they'd been designed for exactly this.

His eyes were burning with unshed tears.

Quietly Eurypon slipped away from his hiding place. He left them there, wrapped up in each other, basking in a moment that only belonged to them.  

He’d already seen enough and he knew – some things were not meant to be witnessed.

*

“Why do you look someone just stole your beloved cat.”

Eurypon blinked at the shoes that suddenly appeared in front of him. He was back on the bench near the road, waiting for his best friend to arrive. He raised his head, squinting at Krateros’ figure. “I don’t have a cat.”

Krateros joined him on the bench, their shoulders brushing. “Maybe you should. Wouldn’t be too far off from your son.”

“Mydeimos is not a cat.”

“Might as well be with how he acts.”

“Excuse you,” Eurypon protested halfheartedly. “Mydeimos is perfect.”

“You and Phainon are the only people who think that,” Krateros snorted. His suit was a little wrinkled. He must have come straight from his fancy job.

“Not Gorgo?”

“She knows better than that. Who do you think had to deal with your son acting like a brat all these years? I know it was definitely not you.”

Eurypon blinked. “Mydeimos is not a brat. He does not have qualifications to be considered a brat.”

Krateros shot him a sidelong look. “How many hours did you spend in the sun?”

“For your information, I got here less than twenty minutes ago.”

“Early dementia then,” Krateros nodded like the asshole he was. Seriously, why were all Eurypon’s friends such bastards? Did that say something about him if that were the people that surrounded him?

“Oh, shut it,” Eurypon shoved his friend lightly and pushed himself up from the bench, joints protesting after sitting for too long. He stretched, arms rising above his head, and felt something in his back pop with a satisfying sound. “Let’s go. Gorgo wants us to set the table.”

Krateros nodded and fell into easy step beside him as they started the slow walk back toward the house. For a while, neither spoke. The summer air wrapped around them, warm and fragrant, carrying the distant sound of children playing somewhere down the street.

Not looking at Eurypon, Krateros asked, “Is everything alright? Your eyes are red.”

Eurypon waved him off with a small huff. “Fine,” he breathed in the fresh summer air. He could see their house in the distance, with Gorgo waiting for them on the porch. She was leaning against the railing, arms crossed, probably wondering what had taken them so long.

Something settled in his chest.

He glanced at Krateros and offered him a small, genuine smile – one that he didn’t give out often. Then he sped up, his pace quickening with purpose.

“Perfect even,” the words floated back over his shoulder, light and sure. “No need to worry.”

*

Later that day, when Phainon and Mydeimos stood before the gathered family and announced their engagement – voices steady and with hands intertwined, their smiles so bright they could have lit the entire street – Eurypon finally let the tears fall.

They slid down his cheeks, warm and utterly unashamed.

Gorgo's hand found his, squeezing tight. He squeezed back.

Perfect, he thought when it was finally his turn to hug his sons. Absolutely perfect.

*

“This shade of white looks nice,” Gorgo squinted at the fabric sample.

Audata shook her head firmly. “I prefer the first one.”

“The first one had some yellow in it. We need pure white; it’d fit better with the flowers.”

“What about this one?”

“Too cold. I don’t like it.”

“Then the first one –”

“What is with Khaslanas and yellow?” Gorgo interrupted, genuine bewilderment creeping into her voice.

Audata drew herself up. “It is the color of the –”

“Red would look good here.”

Both women stilled.

Eurypon stood before them. He grabbed a strip of red fabric and held it to the light and then to the table. He nodded resolutely, having reached a verdict all on his own. “Yes. Let’s add red. This shade specifically.”

Silence.

“Yeah, you need to go.”

“Look, there is Krateros. He looks lonely. Go bother him.”

“Come on! Just look!” he tried to shove the strips of fabric into their faces but Gorgo and Audata didn’t budge. “Fine. See if I help you again!”

Wedding preparations were stressful.

It’s been a year since Phainon’s proposal. The wedding venue was chosen, the guest list finalized and invitations already sent, the food, the cake – everything was perfect.

Everything but the damn napkins.

For some reason that was the thing that stumped them all. A piece of insignificant fabric that would be discarded almost immediately by everyone and yet it divided them all. Everyone had a different opinion. Eurypon wanted red – the color of passion, a splash of life in a sea of white. Gorgo and Audata wanted white – classic, elegant, cohesive with the flower arrangements. Hieronymus wanted blue, because Hieronymus wanted blue for everything and no one listened to Hieronymus anyway, which was why the man gave up days ago and was now focusing on the guest list.

Thankfully for everyone involved, the lovebirds didn’t care about the napkins.

(But knowing them, they already hatched a plan to elope just to escape their families and the stress that came with a wedding. It was exactly the kind of thing these two would do.

Eurypon was keeping a very close eye on their rooms. Nobody is escaping the wedding, not after all the blood and tears that were put into it.)

Eurypon stomped off to the corner that was occupied by Krateros, muttering under his breath about ungrateful women and beautiful red napkins and how they'd all regret this when the wedding looked like a snowstorm had vomited everywhere. He leaned against the wall with a deep frown.  

“Nothing?” his friend asked without looking at him.

“Nothing.”

Krateros raised his brows, his gaze sweeping slowly across the venue. The reception hall stretched before them, pristine and gleaming. After a long moment, Krateros offered his assessment. “The wedding is… too white. Needs some color.”

Eurypon threw his hands up. “That’s exactly what I said! But they refuse to listen to me!”

A heavy pat landed on his shoulder. “Just let them do their thing.”

“I’m trying,” Eurypon let out an explosive breath. “That is exactly why I was in charge of decorating our house.” He pressed his knuckles to his red-rimmed eyes, rubbing hard. Gods, he was tired. “Whatever. How is the security going? You’re in charge of it, right?”

“Yes,” Krateros nodded. He crossed his arms over his chest, confident that he took care of every single problem that could possibly arise. “Everything should be in order.”

“Good, good,” Eurypon nodded absentmindedly. He closed his eyes. “Any new measures in case someone tries to sabotage the wedding?”

Beside him Krateros went completely still. “What.”

“Y’know,” Eurypon said lazily. Sleep was evading him these past few days and he was so tired, he could fall asleep right next to this wall. “Sabotage the wedding. It’s a big thing nowadays, apparently.”

“Is it.”

Eurypon nodded and opened his eyes. “Hephaestion told me. It’s something people do now. When the priest asks,” Eurypon cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “’If anyone has a just cause to object to this union, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.’ This whole thing. Apparently, people are going around shouting ‘I object!’ at strangers’ weddings because they think it’s the funniest thing in the world or something.”

“Or something,” Krateros repeated skeptically. “You sure he wasn’t pulling your leg? I haven’t heard anything about it.”

“Hephaestion wouldn’t!” Eurypon exclaimed. “And besides, he showed me the video. There’s a whole tag for it too.”

“Really,” Krateros still refused to believe him. He nodded at his phone. “Alright then. Show me the videos.”

*

“Oh, Nikador save us all, they’re actually doing it.”

“Told you it’s a thing. What is it with you people doubting everything I say?”

*

The wedding was a relatively small affair with their immediate family and closest friends in attendance. Aglaea helped to choose the venue, a sun-drenched courtyard draped in late summer blooms, and surprisingly had designed the suits herself. The woman used to be a designer, as it turned out, and still dabbled in it as a hobby.

If, Eurypon looked consideringly at the matching white suits with gold and silver threads respectively interwoven in beautiful, intricate patterns, that could even be considered a simple hobby. This was clearly a work of a professional.

The suits fit Phainon and Mydeimos like a glove. The light fabric hugged their frames, highlighting every curve, every angle. The gold and silver threads shimmered softly in the late summer sun, glittering with different colors as the light shifted, almost as if the patterns were alive.

But the biggest difference was the flowers that each groom chose to adorn their suit with.

A purple hyacinth for Phainon. A yellow one for Mydeimos.

The flowers that held so many sweet and warm memories, ones that followed them from their childhood ever since that first puppy love had taken root and grown into something more. Something that would never fade, no matter how many years have passed.

They’ve come a long way, Eurypon thought as he watched the boys stare into each other’s eyes, utterly oblivious to the guests around them or the priest that was trying to get their attention for the past few minutes. They were fully and irrevocably lost in each other. 

Eurypon gently squeezed Gorgo’s hand as he stood up to join Krateros at his place behind Mydeimos.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed some of Mydeimos’ friends following him.

He nodded approvingly.

They had a wedding to protect.

*

And so, when the priest finally said the long waited ‘If anyone has a just cause to object to this union, let them speak now or forever hold their peace’, Eurypon and Krateros with an unexpected addition of Mydeimos’ friends were ready.

With a grace and subtleness they were decidedly not known for, they all slightly shifted behind Mydeimos. As one their black jackets flared, their hands moving to positions that were very clearly not for show.

On the opposite side of the aisle, Phainon's groomsmaid choked on air.

She recovered just long enough to elbow the purple-haired girl standing next to her. Distantly, Eurypon could hear her whisper shout to someone in attendance ‘that idiot married into a fucking mafia family!’

Eurypon ignored her and her friend that was now staring at them and their weapons – or an expensive, heavy metal cane in Eurypon’s case – with an open mouthed, baffled expression.

Nothing shocking here, Eurypon thought as he glared harshly at someone in the venue. He narrowed his eyes. His cane was ready for some blood. No one will sabotage the wedding. Not after everything they've all been through. Not on his watch.

No one objected.

Eurypon nodded. Smart.

The ceremony proceeded as planned – the vows were said and the rings were exchanged. The priest pronounced them married with the relieved air of someone who had made it through the war without a single incident.

The newlyweds did not notice anything that happened behind their backs.

Eurypon nodded once more when Phainon dipped Mydeimos in front of everyone, trying to steal another kiss. Mydeimos threw his head back with the force of his laughter, his strawberry blond curls escaping the elaborate updo that Gorgo spent an hour trying to perfect. The curls tumbled free, catching the light and framing his face as he laughed with pure, unguarded joy.

Tan skin on display, Phainon, ever the opportunist, burrowed his head there, his own happy, triumphant grin bright against Mydeimos’ neck.

The wedding was a success.

Eurypon slowly lowered his cane and let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He exchanged a brief look with Krateros. Satisfaction curled in his chest.

Then Eurypon turned his attention back to his son, who was laughing in his husband's arms, and he finally let himself smile.  

*

Bonus part

Deep breaths. Eurypon told himself. Calm thoughts.

This was fine. He was just about to meet his first ever grandchild. What could possibly go wrong?

“Let me through! A grandfather is coming!” Eurypon bellowed, his voice echoing off the hospital walls and scattering a cluster of waiting patients like startled birds. He brandished his cane like a weapon and pushed away a random teenager that was unlucky enough to get in his way. “Get out of my way! Have some respect for the elderly!”

The teenager stumbled backward, eyes wide with terror, and pressed himself against the wall.

Behind him, Gorgo followed at a significantly more sedate pace, her scarf pulled up to cover the smile tugging at her lips. She snorted softly into the fabric. She, better than anyone, knew that after the surgery Eurypon had undergone a few years ago, the cane was nothing more than for show. Her husband simply liked how serious it made him look. How distinguished. 

Or something along those lines.

Personally, Gorgo thought the praise had gone to his head. All those years of people commenting on his authoritative presence, and now he couldn't walk through a hospital without acting like he owned the place.

She shook her head. No matter. At least he'd finally stopped trying to make hats work, and right now his decorative cane was the absolute least of her worries.

Gorgo caught up to him just as he was squaring up to a baffled passerby who'd made the mistake of making eye contact and directed him to a hospital room where Mydeimos and Phainon were staying.

It wasn’t her first time visiting her son and his family but it was for Eurypon, who refused to wait for his personal driver and jumped straight into an overpriced taxi as soon as his plane landed and he heard the news.

It was a hectic hour.

But she couldn’t blame him for being worried. Not when she was worse the first time she visited.

Gorgo sent a small smile to the attendant at the desk. Poor girl put on a brave front but Gorgo could see the nervous twitch of her hands that were itching to push a security button in case the same incident happened once more.

The less said about that, the better.

“What room?” Eurypon asked impatiently, his head swirling from one door to another. He raised his hand, ready to check every room when Gorgo stopped him.

“1010. Come on, it’s right around the corner.”

They hurried along the way and in no time they were standing in front of inconspicuous door that held their son and their grandchild behind it.

Eurypon swallowed, finally catching his breath. He turned to Gorgo. “How do I look?”

She patted his travel clothes. “Like you just got off the plane,” she combed his dark blond hair with her fingers. “You’re a mess.”

“Am I? Where is the mirror? I need to –”

“It’s a baby. It’s not like she’d care what you look like.”

“Baby or not, first impressions are important!”

With their usual bickering filling the air, Eurypon felt the remaining tension slowly sip out of his shoulders. He was about to meet his first ever grandchild – his granddaughter. Nobody can fault him for being nervous, not when he was the last grandparent to meet her thanks to his unexpected work trip to Styxia.

Just as he opened his mouth to reply to Gorgo’s last remark, the door in front of them opened.

“Are you guys going to come in?” asked Phainon.

He was leaning against a doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. His voice was quiet as if he didn’t want to alarm someone in the room.

Granddaughter, Eurypon thought, trying to peek behind Phainon’s frame. Phainon didn’t want to alarm Eurypon’s granddaughter.

“Is she?...”

Phainon nodded. His white hair was a mess as it fell across his forehead. “Yeah,” he smiled tiredly. “She just woke up. Come on, we’ve all been waiting for you.”

Phainon opened the door wider to let them in. As one, all eyes fell on Mydeimos that was lying in a surprisingly spacious hospital bed, a small bundle cradled carefully in his arms.

Gorgo glanced around the room. “Where are your parents? I thought they were already here.”

“They are. They left a few minutes ago, probably to buy some fruits. I’m not sure,” Phainon said, eyes locked on his husband and their daughter like he couldn't bear to look away.

“You alright?” Gorgo asked quietly, studying him as Eurypon hurried to Mydeimos' side.

“Hm? Yeah, why do you ask?”

Gorgo frowned. “You look dead on your feet.”

Phainon’s face was pale, paler than Gorgo has ever seen him. He had dark circles under his eyes and his eyes were slightly bloodshot as if he wasn’t getting enough sleep. But despite all of that he still shot her a quicksilver smile when he replied, “I’m alright. Just… worried. It wasn’t easy for either of them. Thankfully, the hard part is over.”

Gorgo snorted. She ruffled his hair, bringing back his usual boyish look. “This was the easy part. The hard part is about to start.”

Gorgo still remembered that her pregnancy was relatively easy and perhaps it was this that made her complacent back then. When she was just a young naïve girl, she always thought that pregnancy and childbirth were the hardest part of having a child. Everyone around her put so much emphasis on it that she never spent too much time thinking of the after, of what happens once you give birth to a child.

She could still remember the first time she held Mydeimos in her arms. He was so small, his little face so red when he was born. With a scattering of golden fluff on his head, Gorgo remembered how worried she was that Mydeimos was too small, that maybe there was something wrong with him, with his health. Every day was a new problem, a new battle. And the thing no one told you about having kids? Those battles were never-ending. A random bruise on your child’s skin; sleepless nights spent in terror, listening to your child's fevered, rattling breaths; days, years spent wondering ‘Am I a good parent? Is my child happy? Do they know I would do everything for them?’.

Those thoughts never went away. Even when your child grew up. Even when they had children of their own. They stayed with you forever.

“Take it from me,” Gorgo started slowly. “Childbirth is relatively easy. It’s the after that no one tells you about.”

After all, nobody had ever told her anything.

Phainon ducked his head with a smile. “Perhaps, but,” he looked at Mydeimos that gently lifted their daughter up so that Eurypon could take a better look at her. Gorgo followed his gaze, watching as her husband stroked their granddaughter’s feathery white hair with one trembling finger.

Eurypon looked at Gorgo, his eyes filled with tears, before he went back to cooing over the little girl.

The door, slightly ajar, swayed open further. Audata and Hieronymus walked in, their hands full of grocery bags. Audata immediately began unpacking, pulling out an absurd assortment of items – bottles of water, loose-fitting, comfortable clothing, pillows, socks, baby clothes and a ton of snacks, enough to feed a small army.

Then, Audata, her usually pristine white braid now half undone, shook multiple packages of pre-cut mango and watermelon at Mydeimos. “I fought three people for these. You better be grateful.”

Mydeimos pursed his lips, fighting back a smile. “Thank you, auntie. I appreciate it.”

“Well, you certainly took your time,” Hieronymus directed at Eurypon, then did a double take, “are you crying?”

“Oh, shut it, you hypocrite!” Eurypon snapped, his voice cracking slightly. “Like you were any better. I saw the videos of you sobbing in our groupchat!”

“Audata!”

“Did you seriously think I wouldn’t send them?”

Phainon’s body shook with barely contained snickers. He took Gorgo’s hand and gently pulled her to the bed where her son and granddaughter were lying in. He looked at her, his blue eyes exhausted but warm, full of something soft and grateful. A small smile pulled at the corners of his lips. “I don’t think we have anything to worry about. Not when all of you are here.”

Listening to the familiar bickering around her, Gorgo let him guide her forward. She joined Eurypon at their son's side, slipping into the space beside him.

“Mom,” Mydeimos – her son, her golden boy – held out one hand to her. “Come here.”

He brought his daughter closer to her. She was just as small and just as red as Mydeimos used to be.

A small bundle of sunshine. Gorgo felt her heart skip a beat, something soft unfurling in her chest as soon as she laid her eyes on her child and his little girl.

“Look,” her son smiled, exhausted but radiant. “She has your eyes.”

The gentle warmth inside of her grew stronger until her whole chest was filled with a fierce, bright fire. A trembling smile pulled at the corners of her lips. 

Yes, Gorgo thought. Tears sprang to her eyes when a tiny hand gripped her finger with surprising strength. 

A new family, a new adventure, a new life.

She looked around the room: at Eurypon, still tear-streaked and watching them with trembling lips; at Phainon, leaning against the bed frame with quiet joy; at Audata and Hieronymus, bickering softly in the background as they unpacked their chaotic assortment of supplies.

They had nothing to worry about.

Nothing at all.