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Summary
Phainon clicks his tongue in annoyance and pulls on the other’s hair a little, to which Mydeimos doesn’t even budge. “With all the things I’m doing for you, I might as well be your mate.” He grumbles.
“Would you like to?”
He laughs a little at the sudden suggestion. “You’re not getting out that easily.” Phainon pauses and shakes his head, perhaps a little at himself, and his voice drops, unintentionally. “I’m an alpha, I can’t give you any heirs.”
Mydei turns around to look at him, something dark and unreadable in his eyes. The water from the tub shifts with his body and spills over the edge of the tub, soaking through Phainon’s trouser and shirt.
“So if you can,” he asks, “you would be my mate?”
The silence stretches on between them as Phainon struggles to find his own thoughts.
“Just let me do my job.” He opts to shove the other man back into the tub instead.
Mydei lets himself be pushed back without saying another word. He turns forward and sinks into the tub.
In another life, Phainon would’ve loved to be Mydei’s mate. It’s just too bad he can’t bear any heirs.