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Breaking Point (Phaidei fanfiction)

Chapter 1

Summary: Mydei has always prided himself on his self-control, but Phainon makes rational thought feel like a lost cause. Between sparring sessions, market encounters, and quiet conversations that expose truths neither of them expected to share, Mydei finds himself unraveling. When the tension becomes unbearable, he finally acts on what he’s been resisting all along.

Word count: 3585

Warnings: None (except for heavy sexual tension, I guess).

AO3

___

Chapter 1: Temptation

Mydei had never met anyone like Phainon. He challenged him. Like a warrior who didn’t shy away from battle, who gave everything but always remained honorable. Like someone who stimulated his mind in a way that made his tongue run away with him. So it came as no surprise that his body reacted to Phainon. Especially not when they fought in the midday heat. When Phainon suddenly removed his chestplate, as he did now, standing before him in nothing but a shirt soaked with sweat and open at the top, Mydei had to swallow.

Even during their first fight, when they had battled against each other for ten days and nights, he had felt the other’s presence so intensely. Phainon had this aura that seemed perfectly attuned to him. Even when they only circled each other, figuratively and literally, his body found him. Burned with flames, but not from rage. From something deeper. Yes, Phainon was attractive, left him aroused and distracted. But between two men who spent as much time together as they did, who never missed an opportunity to challenge each other, physical reactions were normal. It was nothing Mydei couldn’t resolve in the solitude of night.

“Oh? Want to make it easy for me today? I understand. It seems you’re not quite at your best.” Phainon moved toward him, fast and precise. Not wild like a force of nature, but like someone possessed who had trained for years to be the lone fighter against the enemy.

“Warm-up. Continue,” Mydei said through gritted teeth. He lunged forward. Phainon dodged to the side, but Mydei followed the movement, using his momentum to drive him against the stone wall. Phainon’s eager gaze distracted him, the way he pressed his lips together when fighting, how his blue eyes focused on every one of Mydei’s movements.

His body wanted to fight, but his mind wanted to convince him they should use their time differently. That Mydei should provoke that expression again, just between them. That Mydei should rip that stupid shirt and all clothing off and worship the Deliverer’s body in a way that was his privilege alone. Images of an undone Phainon flashed through his mind. Phainon would taunt him even then, making Mydei’s primal instincts take over.

He breathed deeply in and out, and a cry broke from him. If his body was already reacting to his friend like this, he should at least use that energy purposefully.

“Disappointing, truly disappointing, my friend,” Phainon continued to tease him, even as Mydei successfully disarmed him and brought him to the ground.

Mydei pressed further into Phainon’s body, pinning the other’s arms down. Looming over Phainon felt familiar. Like something that hadn’t always been this way, but should have been from the beginning. Phainon looked up at him, as always, with those sky-blue eyes. His eyes were the first thing that had truly fascinated him. A deep, intense blue that reminded him of frozen lake surfaces, of winter mornings in the mountains. Almost piercing in their clarity and yet warm. How was that possible? How could eyes look both so cold and warm at the same time?

“You’re heavy, Mydeimos,” Phainon said, again with that light tone. As if they hadn’t just been fighting for hours. As if they weren’t lying intertwined. As if they wanted to release their energy in other ways. Which was, of course, an absurd thought. And yet it sent Mydei’s mind in directions that were normal in Phainon’s presence, but rather unusual for a friendship.

Phainon’s thigh pressed directly against his groin and he wondered if he had completely lost his mind. The heat between them had nothing to do with the midday sun anymore. Every small movement from Phainon sent sparks through his body that he desperately tried to ignore. Maybe both of us, he thought as he noticed how Phainon’s breathing became shallower.

“And you’re getting rusty,” Mydei replied with a grunt. He didn’t bother to move away from the other, despite Phainon's comment. “If I didn’t work you over like this every day, you probably wouldn’t be able to take down a single Titankin soon.” Redness crept across Phainon’s cheeks and Mydei was tempted to stroke his face. He was probably just as heated from the fight as he was.

“I know you like it,” Phainon responded immediately. “Because I’m the only one who’s your equal. You defeat everyone else as a warm-up,” he said and had the audacity to puff out his chest, to arch his body beneath him, as if they weren’t pressed together like two parts someone had welded together.

A moan rose in Mydei’s throat. Not from the fight, but from the way Phainon’s body moved beneath him. He quickly covered it with a combat-induced grunt. “You’re practically begging me to fight you. I never say no to more training.” The irony of his words wasn’t lost on him. Who was really begging whom here? His mouth spoke without thinking, far too aware of the other’s proximity. Phainon moved beneath him, and his thighs closed around his legs.

“If you don’t get up, I’ll have to make myself comfortable,” he said, his expression relaxed and downright amused. Mydei laughed.

“Is that your next crazy idea? Which one of us gives in and gets up first?”

“Who knows,” Phainon said. “Maybe I need a break too. And where could I be better protected from danger than under the natural cloak of the Crown Prince?”

“You speak more nonsense in a day than others do in their entire lives," Mydei muttered. “Do you ever listen to yourself talk?” Still, he had to laugh. His body wanted to stay lying there, but he knew they would eventually draw attention, despite the secluded place where they were. With some effort, Mydei pulled himself away from the warm presence beneath him and stood up, extending his hand to pull Phainon up.

“It’s enough that you do,” Phainon said and shrugged. “Let’s continue.”

In the days that followed, Mydei found himself observing Phainon's movements more closely during training and remembering his laughter for longer. It was all perfectly normal, he assured himself. After all, they spent a lot of time together.

On a rare morning that he had all to himself, Mydei watched the hustle and bustle of the city. Mydei bought a simple beverage from a street vendor and sat on one of the many stone benches placed along the main paths. From here he could observe the bustle without being the center of attention himself. Even though Mydei had been in Okhema for quite some time now, he still felt the differences. The city awakened differently than Castrum Kremnos. Not with the weary sighs of people facing another difficult day, but with a kind of vibrant energy. Merchants called out their wares, waterfalls rushed between the buildings, and everywhere you could hear conversations and laughter.

Scholars in elegant robes discussed animatedly with each other, while craftsmen carried their goods to the markets. Children ran among the adults, their voices high and cheerful. And again and again he saw groups of people who clearly weren’t from Okhema—refugees from Castrum Kremnos, he suspected, recognizable by their different clothing and the cautious glances with which they regarded their new surroundings. He would mingle with the people later, try to get to know them.

Part of him felt connected to this cautious observation. He too was still a stranger here, he too was still learning the rhythms of this city.

“You have your brooding face again, my friend. It makes me think of a striking scholar, not that fierce warrior I have come to enjoy so much.”

He looked up and saw Phainon approaching him with his characteristic warm smile. He wore a less formal version of his armor today. Still elegant, but less imposing than for official occasions. Apparently he had already finished his duties. Mydei had to think of their joint missions. The many hours they spent alone together. Their mutual goading that now drove him to even greater achievements. The lava in his veins that sometimes took hold of him so unbridled that it kept him awake at night. That forced him to seek relief.

“Good morning, Deliverer,” he replied and gestured to the space beside him. “Sit down. You look like you’ve been on your feet since the Entry Hour again.”

“The early hours are often the most honest,” Phainon said as he sat down. “Before the day puts on its masks.” Mydei glanced at Phainon. That was what always fascinated him. How Phainon could transition from light, almost superficial comments to a wistful and philosophical tone.

Phainon glanced at his beverage and smiled. “Since I’m meeting you anyway. I found a shop that you’ll like. If you’re in the mood for something more authentic. Kelara makes the best bread in the city. She’s from Castrum Kremnos. She even bakes this shield-shaped bread from your city you told me about before.” Mydei caught the hopeful tone in Phainon‘s voice. He felt strangely warm because Phainon had remembered this little detail about him. Crusty bread really did wonders to his mood.

“That sounds tempting,” Mydei said sincerely. The beverage was perfectly fine for relaxing, but the prospect of something warm and fresh made his mouth water. As if on command, his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten anything yet. Since his thoughts revolved so much around Phainon, it had become far too easy to forget the nutrition advice he always gave others.

“And the market,” Phainon continued, his eyes sparkling with slight amusement, “is an experience in itself today. The pomegranates there are especially delicious. If it were up to my sparring partner, one shouldn’t start any day without eating properly.” His voice took on a slightly teasing tone, as if repeating an often-heard lesson. “‘A strong body and a healthy mind both rely on proper nutrition,’ as he likes to say.”

“You should live by that instead of settling for meaningless quotes,” Mydei said. Despite his comment, he had to laugh. “Your sparring partner sounds like a man of many qualities.”

As soon as he had spoken this sentence, he regretted it. It was too easy, far too easy, to fall into this teasing back and forth with Phainon. He was used to meeting people with sarcasm. But with Phainon, he didn’t use this language to keep him at a distance, but to draw him out of his reserve. To keep him in the moment.

“He is,” Phainon said, and something warm and familiar resonated in his voice. “Even though he would never admit that caring is his motive. He would insist that it’s purely practical. Warriors need to be well-fed to fight effectively.”

A smile tugged at Mydei’s lips. Phainon was always so accommodating. Mydei knew no one who gave people such open compliments and meant them.

“I’m glad you take my words to heart. You’ve lost weight lately,” Mydei said, his voice becoming more serious. “Your armor can’t hide that from my eyes,” he added.

“You’re observant as always, Mydei. But there’s no cause for concern.” Mydei always worried about him, but he wouldn’t talk about that now.

“I don’t intend to tell Aglaea about it, if that’s what you fear,” Mydei replied. “But how do you expect to have any chance against me if you’re completely weakened?” he said challengingly, and Phainon’s face brightened. He laughed out loud. It wasn’t that charming and composed laugh he had rehearsed for the crowds. It was open and free. Mydei stared at him for a moment before clearing his throat. Phainon possessed this natural, captivating aura.

It was no wonder that Mydei reacted to it. After all, Phainon practiced this kind of performance every day, after waking up and before going to sleep. Immediately Mydei despised himself for the thought. He doesn’t want it, he thought to himself. He would prefer to be silly, not mentally conducting the conversation before he had even said the first sentence. His heart contracted because he knew exactly that Phainon would never admit out loud how much he wished he didn’t have to put on a performance all the time.

He sighed loudly and stood up. “Enough rest. My legs will go numb if I sit here any longer. Besides, people indeed get the idea that I'm handing out free life wisdom.” The corners of his mouth twitched and he looked down at Phainon. Phainon didn’t move, stared straight ahead. Suddenly the radiance had disappeared from his face.

“Hmmph. You’ve made me hungry,” Mydei said and raised an eyebrow. “Show me the way.”

“You want to come with me…?” Phainon murmured, and Mydei didn’t miss how his entire expression brightened. Because of two sentences.

Phainon still seemed confused, as if it threw him off that Mydei actively sought his presence. And it was strange that Phainon had this effect on him. But Mydei saw no reason to send Phainon away. After all, they both had the same goal. To satiate their hunger. What would people say if they saw that the Chrysos Heirs actively avoided each other? Mydei furrowed his brow.

He had spent so much time focusing on his mission, on what he had to prove. That he could offer the Kremnoans a better future. That he wouldn’t succumb to madness like the kings before him. In doing so, he had forgotten to allow himself to simply arrive.

They went to a small, cozy shop that smelled of fresh bread and sweet spices.

“Ah, the handsome one,” the woman, Kelara, said with a head shake that was more loving than irritated. Mydei’s laugh got stuck in his throat when Phainon kissed her hand. “Always so charming. Take the bread with herbs—baked fresh this morning.” Phainon made a gesture with his hand, approaching Kelara and putting an arm around her shoulder and then her waist.

He looked down on her like it was a thing they did often and it did things to him. You’re no fool, Mydei, he thought. You know what it means. You’re jealous. So what if he was jealous. There was a woman in front of him he’d never heard of let alone seen. And now he witnessed the one person that he wanted to keep in his life…for sparring, be overly familiar with her. Touching her almost softly. Not that he needed that kind of attention. He merely enjoyed his presence, that was all.

Now, Phainon whispered something in her ear, and from this angle it looked as if Phainon was nibbling at her ear and neck. Mydei swallowed. They were shopping like normal citizens. This meant nothing. Kelara laughed. No, Mydei corrected himself inwardly, as their hushed conversation went on. She giggled.

Phainon was funny, he knew that better than anyone, but surely, the things Phainon told her couldn’t be that hilarious.

He didn’t even use his teasing voice, the one where his voice first went higher and then dropped dangerously low. That tone Mydei tried to imitate in his mind at night when he pleasured himself to the idea of Phainon sucking him off and talking to him while doing so. He’d tried to solve matters differently but failed miserably. So, to not sabotage his duties, he’d accepted that only the thought of Phainon could get him release these days. There were more frightening things in the world. Theoretically speaking.

“Is this your special friend? The one you want to…?”

“Yes, that’s the mighty warrior that helps me keep in shape in all areas. The one and only.” Phainon’s voice had risen an octave and he looked somewhat panicked.

Mydei raised an eyebrow at that. Was he afraid that the woman would learn his true identity as the Crown Prince? That didn’t make any sense for a couple of reasons. He wasn’t known to be a cruel person with his people. They liked him. So it had to be something different. Besides, she must be familiar with his looks. Still, it was entirely possible that she had been in Okhema her whole life, making it easy for her to never have seen him.

“If we really want to stay in shape, Deliverer, we ought to buy that meal you mentioned.” Mydei could talk to her, could tell her who he was but he wasn’t in the mood any longer. When they placed their order, his restlessness began to fade. Soon enough, they would be alone again. Just the two of them. Steadiness was good. Better than unpredictability in this case. Mydei let Phainon do the talking. And at least this time, he didn’t start the charming again. They took their leave, and Phainon grinned at him.

“Wasn’t that a wonderful moment just now? Seeing you so flustered. I will not let that image leave my memory anytime soon.”

Mydei rolled his eyes. “There is no word for flustered in the Kremnoan language.”

“Oh but I think there is. It’s probably something that sounds harsh and unforgiving but shows something soft about your culture. It’s kind of like you. That really doesn’t come as a surprise,” Phainon added. “Especially considering what we’re dealing with here. Words shape how we understand feelings, don’t they? So I’m suggesting that we just invent our own word and be done with it.”

“You are not making any sense,” Mydei said dryly while his heart, so used to rage and nothingness, swelled at the passion with which Phainon spoke. If there was one thing he genuinely enjoyed about sparring and conversation, it was listening to this menace talk.

“Did you even listen to what I just said? I explained why the lack of a word alone is not enough reason to imply that you weren’t flustered when in fact you were very flustered. And I, Phainon of Aedes Elysiae, will go on the mission to find out what caused it.”

“I was being hungry. There’s a difference,” said Mydei, not able to hide the smile on his face. That was how it was supposed to be. Not this nonsense from before. Phainon laughed out loud and handed him a small bag. They started eating and engaged in their usual banter on the way to the market.

The market was a feast for the senses. The colors, the smells, the voices of the merchants. Everything was so alive, so full of energy. Mydei bought some pomegranates from a friendly older man who patiently explained how to choose the best ones. “I already know that,” Mydei said with a laugh, and wanted to continue asking the merchant about a special variety when Phainon appeared in front of his face.

The next moment he already felt his hand on his lips. With a hmmph, Mydei closed his mouth and chewed. It was some kind of pastry. Sweet and slick.

Phainon’s thumb stroked over his lips. Then he murmured something about “you had something there” and licked his thumb. A growl rose in him. Phainon really wasn’t of this world. Then Phainon licked again and moaned, and a wave of desire shot through Mydei’s body. How could he do such a wicked thing and act like it was normal? His heart hammered against his ribs, and he was suddenly aware that any passerby could observe their intimacy. What had that been just now?

“You’re incredible,” Mydei murmured, his breathing strangely fluttery, his voice hoarse. His lips still burned from the touch, and he could taste the sweet flavor of the pastry on his tongue, mixed with something that was distinctly Phainon. Every instinct screamed at him to take a step back, to create distance. Instead, he remained rooted to the spot.

“Incredibly amusing? Incredibly inspiring? Incredibly strong? Incredibly admirable? There are so many possibilities,” Phainon said and raised and lowered his eyebrows in that way that only he was allowed to do. How about a bit of everything, shot through his head.

Mydei pressed his lips together, because Phainon’s eyes sparkled so full of mischief and something else that he suddenly forgot where they even were. He crossed his arms in front of his chest once more, because apparently that was what still grounded him somehow. When Mydei didn’t respond, something happened with Phainon’s gaze, and he didn’t like it. “Or incredibly annoying after all? Tell me. You know I’m resilient.”

Mydei clicked his tongue, wanted to snap at him, wanted to tell him how he could even get the idea that Mydei saw him that way. He, above all others, should know how Mydei really saw him. That only he deserved his complete trust.

“Incredible. No additions necessary.” Mydei paused. “In my dictionary, that’s a synonym for Phainon.” Had he really just said that? May the ground open up and swallow him.

Phainon laughed out loud. “I don’t think the scholars would be pleased if you started making unofficial dictionaries, dear Mydeimos.” Why did the way Phainon pronounced his name always sound like a promise? Not reverent, but just for him?

For a moment he was tempted to simply pull the Deliverer to him and kiss him.

But he didn’t.

Not when they continued walking. Not when Phainon again pulled him by the hand behind him and lectured him about amphoras. Not when Phainon's thumb stroked over the back of his hand. And certainly not when they arrived at Mydei's chambers to wish each other good night and Phainon smiled at him as if Mydei had given him the greatest gift. ________ A/N: Writing their dialogue (and Mydei‘s thoughts) has been way too much fun. I tried to capture the way they talk in the main story and make it…more charged and slightly absurd.

I interpret Mydei as someone who is attuned to his feelings and physical reactions (there are many examples in the Trailblaze mission) but tries to stay in control and channel/solve those feelings pragmatically until he snaps. I hope that worked out and that I did him justice (or them, for that matter). Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. :)

Chapter 2 will be up soon. Stay tuned. :)

#phaidei #fanfiction #phaidei fanfic #phaidei fic #phainon x mydei #mydei x phainon #phainon #mydei #hsr phainon #hsr mydei #mirrorwritings

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