Adult Content Warning
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Summary
Phainon’s hand has now reached the junction between Mydei’s thighs. Palm flat over where he’s hottest, and Mydei grips him with two hands to keep him there, knowing damn well a man who can throw three grown men off of him wouldn’t struggle to get out of Mydei’s clutches. He moves his free hand to tuck Mydei’s hair behind his ear after it fell back out of place sometime during his spiel, and he wets his lips. “Twenty years is a lot, sweet pea,” he murmurs against his ear, earning a shudder, “How old is your father?”
“Sixty-one.” Mydei whimpers, now white-knuckling the man’s wrist, itching to keep his big hand pressed onto his groin.
“Exactly my point. I’m closer in age to your own father than I am to you,” Phainon moves away, allowing Mydei to keep desperately clutching his thick wrist. “There are tons of guys out there who’re young, spry and have enough energy to keep up with you—I don’t, peach, I’m old.”
OR: Phainon is Mydei's favourite (now retired) rugby player, and Mydei learns the valuable lesson of why you should meet your heroes. (They fuck)
Series
- Part 4 of all of my anonymous PhaiDei fics