Work Text:
It takes Cipher’s intervention for him to truly realize he might be fucked.
“Listen, delivery boy,” she chastises.
Phainon sighs at the nickname.
Cipher crosses her arms, narrowing her eyes at him. “I know you mean well with your sad attempt at a meal, but please, please for the love of Zagreus just take a cooking class or two. You need it. Those salads aren’t cutting it anymore.”
Phainon opens his mouth to refute only for Cipher to stick a finger in his face, shushing him. “I’ll even pay for it myself if I have to. I know how stingy you are with money, but I’d rather pay for someone to teach you than ever eat something like that again.”
“What’s wrong with salads?” Phainon frowns, glancing at the bowl of Creamy Lettuce Salad still on the counter. Really, he can’t see the issue here. Who doesn’t love a good, hearty salad? The ingredients are simple and tasty: a mix of lettuce, tomatoes, and his favourite dressing. Maybe it’s not the most visually appealing, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t delicious!
When he looks back at Cipher, she’s staring at him like he’s grown a second head. He can’t help but shrink a little under her gaze.
She pinches the bridge of her nose before whipping out her phone, fingers flying across the screen as she quickly types something.
“Listen,” she says, still typing away. “I’ve got a friend who’s a great chef, owns his own restaurant and everything. Lucky for you, he owes me a favour. I’ll get him to teach you this week. How does Wednesday night sound?”
“I don’t know, Cipher,” Phainon says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t wanna bother this guy—I mean, I don’t even know him! He’s probably pretty busy if he’s running a restaurant, isn't this too short notice? Wednesday is only a few days away, I—”
“He said yes,” Cipher cuts him off by shoving her phone in his face. Her long nails clack loudly against the screen as she points at the messages.
Phainon blinks owlishly before leaning back to read the blurry messages.
Cipher: remember how u owe me a favour
Cipher: im cashing in on that
Cipher: i need u to teach my friend how to cook hes a disaster look what i had to eat today
Cipher: IMG_2691
Cipher: wednesday 6pm thanks
Mydei: Fine.
“Cipher!” Phainon hisses.
She pockets her phone and claps him on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine, you’re in great hands. Just wear something nice.” Cipher pauses, grimacing. “And by nice I mean Agy’s standards of nice. Call her before you go out, I don’t want Mydei to ask me about that horrible yellow and purple combo of yours.”
𓎩
When Wednesday finally rolls around, Phainon is just about ready to text Cipher and tell her to call off the whole thing. He can't help but feel guilty for putting so much strain on a complete stranger, who could probably be doing something much more productive than helping him learn how to navigate the kitchen.
In a desperate attempt to not look like a complete fool during his lessons, Phainon took it upon himself to at least try to make some other recipes he found online that seemed simple enough. The result of that night was a distressed phone call to both Cipher after he nearly set the kitchen and by extension, his entire apartment, on fire.
"Please just wait until your lessons with Mydei," she practically begged over the phone. "There's only like a day left. Just stick to your salads until Wednesday so I don't have to tell him you can't make it because you managed to set your apartment on fire right before he could teach you how to cook. Do you know how bad that makes me look?"
Her tone was so convincing that Phainon stayed away from the kitchen for the next few days, opting to instead indulge in the local cafes and their cheap student deals. Even with the discounts, his wallet only lasted so long and he found himself waiting for his lessons with Mydei to arrive, if only to save his bank account.
With Wednesday actually here though, that familiar sense of guilt has come crawling back. He fiddles mindlessly with the collar of his shirt, hoping it'll distract him from what's to come. There's a pit in his stomach that won't go away and the more the thinks about it, the sicker he feels. Who is he to take up someone's time like this, and a stranger at that? No matter how much Cipher has reassured him that Mydei wouldn't mind—"Phainon, he lives for cooking. Plus, he owes me one!"—he can't help but doubt her words.
Phainon shakes his head and takes a deep breath, trying to push the tension out of his body. There's no point in dwelling on it now when he's already here, standing outside the door to Mydei's massive house. To cancel now would probably be even more of an inconvenience than him being here in the first place; might as well see it through.
With another deep breath, Phainon knocks one, two, three times on the door and waits. Anxiety eats away at him as he stands there for what feels like hours. Finally, he hears the door unlock and when it swings open, Phainon's heart practically stops.
In front of him stands a tall man with blond hair that fades into a fiery red. He's dressed in a dark collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a few buttons undone. A brown apron is draped over his front, covering part of what would be his exposed chest. He's covered in crimson markings—tattoos? Phainon can't quite tell—that only enhance his sculpted muscles. His face is striking too. Those sharp amber eyes and long, dark lashes are dangerously breathtaking. The markings extend to his face as well, the pop of red standing out against his smooth pale skin.
He's drop dead gorgeous. Phainon thinks he might've forgotten how to breathe.
“Phainon, right?” he says. His voice is deep and slightly raspy and Phainon thinks he might be in love. “My name is Mydeimos, but you can call me Mydei. Come on in.”
Mydei turns on his heel and walks into the house. Phainon quickly follows, toeing off his shoes at the front door before catching up to Mydei. Silence fills the room as they make their way to the kitchen.
"Thank you for doing this," says Phainon after confirming he can in fact still breathe. "I really appreciate it."
Mydei nods. "It's no problem. I enjoy cooking anyway. Plus, I owe Cipher."
When they finally arrive, Phainon barely managed to keep his jaw from dropping. He knew from the size of Mydei's house that the kitchen would be impressive, but he didn't quite know what to expect. The place is huge, with massive cupboards and various utensils Phainon can't even name. Shelves upon shelves are filled to the brim with fresh produce and ingredients. It almost feels like he's in a grocery store with the sheer number of supplies stocked in the kitchen.
"Wow," Phainon says as he takes it all in.
Mydei huffs a laugh. "It's a lot, I know. But I'm here all the time, and I figured it was worth it to splurge on this part of my house."
Mydei steps into the kitchen, rummaging around the cupboards. He pauses and turns to look back at Phainon, narrowing his eyes as he looks him up and down. "You're dressed nicely, but it's certainly a bold choice to wear white pants for a cooking class. Are you not worried about stains?"
Phainon looks down at himself. Like Cipher urged him to, he had called Aglaea earlier that day to figure out what was appropriate to wear to his cooking class. After some back and forth—including his attempts to wear purple and yellow which Aglaea quickly shot down—they finally settled on a black turtle neck with a white collared shirt layered over top, white pants, and a long, blue trench coat. It's a nice outfit, one he agrees he definitely wouldn't have chosen on his own.
He looks back up and flashes a smile. "With you as a teacher I'm sure I have nothing to worry about."
Mydei raises a brow. "I may be a good chef, but Cipher told me about your kitchen incident earlier this week." He pulls an apron from the cupboard and tosses it at Phainon. "Take off your coat and put that on, it'll help keep you clean."
Phainon catches it and slips his coat off, hanging it on the coat rack near the entrance. As he walks back, he pulls the apron over his head, tying the strings at the back. "Alright! So, what first?"
"Not so fast." Mydei pulls out a chair and sits at the kitchen island, gesturing for Phainon to take a seat as well. "Let's talk first. What kind of recipes do you want to make?"
Phainon hums as he thinks. "I'm not that picky about what it is I'm making. It's more that I just don't exactly know what I'm doing in the kitchen or what to make."
"Okay, that makes sense. Let's start simple then. How about beef and broccoli over noodles?"
Phainon nods eagerly. "Sure! That sounds good. I mean, how hard can it be?"
𓎩
As it turns out with Phainon's skill level, the answer is very hard. Somehow, despite how good of a teacher Mydei is, Phainon still manages to fuck up nearly every step. It's almost impressive just how poorly it's going and Phainon can tell Mydei's patience is beginning to wear thin.
"Sorry," Phainon says weakly after he looks down at yet another batch of burnt beef in the wok. Who knew cooking meat could be so difficult?
Mydei lets out a heavy sigh as he takes the wok and dumps its contents into the trash. Phainon winces at the sound of it hitting the bottom. "It's fine. This time… just watch me, okay?"
He nods and steps back, allowing Mydei to get close to the stovetop.
"Alright," Mydei says as he cleans off the countertop and sets the wok back on the stove. He pulls the flank steak close, grabbing his knife. "Watch closely. When we cut our beef, we want to check what way the fibres are going. Set your knife perpendicular to the fibres to cut against the grain. Do you remember why?"
"It makes it more tender."
"Right." Mydei makes quick work of the meat, easily chopping it into perfectly thin slices. The way he moves his knife is masterful and Phainon can't help but feel mesmerized watching him work. "Now the marinade. We combine these ingredients and then we…"
Mydei's voice fades out as Phainon watches him. He looks beautiful doing this. Every movement is precise and done with care. Even the simple act of cutting the meat was done so carefully and with such ease, Phainon could watch him all day.
"…and since we have this vacuum seal, the marinade will penetrate the meat faster. Now, we'll just wait." Mydei opens the fridge and places the bag of meat inside. After closing it, he walks back and begins to tidy up the counter, putting away some of the ingredients and moving the utensils into the sink to be washed.
"So," Phainon says, "how'd you get into cooking?"
Mydei blinks at him. A fond smile graces his lips while he begins to clean the dishes. "It was my mother. I started helping her when I was young and I've been cooking since then. I can't remember a time when I haven't been in the kitchen. I've always loved it."
"That's cute," Phainon replies earnestly. He holds out a hand for the dish Mydei just finished washing. "Give it to me, you wash, I'll dry."
Mydei hands it to him and moves onto the next item in the sink. "She's always been my biggest supporter. She's the one who encouraged me to open up my own restaurant after my father—" Mydei's jaw snaps shut, brows furrowing. He sighs before continuing, "after my father disowned me."
A heavy atmosphere fills the air, the sound of running water cutting through the silence.
Phainon opens his mouth to say something but Mydei beats him to it, voice filled with conviction. "I don't need his support anyway. He was upset I didn't want to take over the family business, but this is what makes me happy. My mother has always supported my dreams and that's what matters." His lips curl into a small grin. "The restaurant ended up being a success in the end, even though he was convinced I'd fail.
"For what it's worth, I'm glad you stuck with cooking too," Phainon says. "I can tell you really love it. It looks like what you were born to do."
Mydei looks at him and smiles warmly. "Thank you, Phainon," he says gently. "There's nothing else I'd rather do."
𓎩
The rest of the lesson goes off without a hitch. By the time they finish, the sun has already gone down, but the food is finally ready.
"Titans, Mydei, did you put crack in this?" Phainon moans as he shovels another spoonful into his mouth. The flavour bursts against his tongue and Phainon swears he's been blessed by Kephale themself.
Mydei laughs. "You saw me cook it, you know I didn't."
"You must be some type of Aeon then. How did you make this taste so good?!"
"I'm a chef, of course it tastes good."
Phainon doesn't respond to that, too busy inhaling the rest of his food. He scarfs it down in a matter of minutes, sighing in satisfaction once he finishes. "That was amazing, Mydei. Thank you, really."
"It was my pleasure," Mydei says, taking the bowl and putting it in the sink.
Phainon stands, tucking the chair back in. "Well, I'll head out now. I really appreciate it. Would you uh, be down to do this again some time?"
Mydei crosses his arms and cocks a brow. "Are you really asking me that?"
Phainon laughs, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "It's fine if not! I know I was, ah, less than a perfect student today…"
"Haikas," Mydei hisses, rolling his eyes. "Stop assuming things. I'll see you again same time next week."
Phainon stares at him with wide eyes.
"Get out of my house before I take that back."
"Yes Mydei!" Phainon yelps, rushing to the front door. He slips his coat and shoes back on and within a few seconds he's out the door. "I'll see you next week!"
Mydei leans against the door frame, smiling gently. "I look forward to it."