Work Text:
Phainon cut through the early-evening streets with purpose, barely even noticing the gold light of the sun pooling across the rooftops or flickering in the various storefront windows. A warm breeze skimmed past him and kept pulling at the hem of the jacket he wore—Mydei's jacket—loose on his shoulders, a little heavy, and still faintly carrying the scent of the man himself. It reminded him why he was moving so quickly in the first place.
His hands stayed tucked in his pockets, excitement simmering tight beneath his ribs, the motion pulling the slightly worn edges of Mydei's jacket closer around his body. He had put on Mydei's cologne before leaving, and its rich notes rose from him with every shift of movement. The necklace Mydei had bought him thumped lightly against his chest as he continued forward, pairing nicely with his favorite choker.
He'd taken his time getting ready before heading out, putting some real thought and effort behind every detail. The jacket. The necklace. And especially the cologne.
Phainon knew it would drive Mydei crazy. Hopefully crazy enough to ignore whatever workplace decency policy he was definitely about to violate.
He hadn't had enough time with him lately, not with Mydei's marathon late nights. Too many streams had ended with Phainon staring at an empty chair just off-screen, the one where Mydei sometimes sat when he came home. Phainon felt his absence in every empty hour.
It had gotten under his skin so much today that he'd cut his stream noticeably short—something his viewers picked up on immediately, spamming his chat with teasing questions when he couldn't stop smiling towards the end.
Phainon missed him, and the ache only worsened with each passing day. So tonight would be different. He wasn't going to sit around all day hoping for the sound of the door. He was going to pay him a little visit instead.
His steps only slowed when the familiar shape of Mydei's building came into view, outlined in the warm light of the early evening. Phainon lifted his head then, drawing in a sharp breath as he approached, the anticipation he'd been nursing all day tightening in his chest.
A set of tall glass doors slid open, the soft hum of the mechanism greeting him like it always did. Just inside, two of the building's security staff stood positioned on either side of the entrance. Neither of them even blinked, and one gave him a brief nod in acknowledgment. They knew him by now, had let him through more times than anyone bothered to count. Phainon dipped his head in return, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he passed.
The lobby opened into a spacious room with clean lines and muted colors. A few seating areas were set off to the side, empty at this time of day except for someone absently scrolling through their phone. The air carried a faint hint of coffee and something floral—probably whatever the building used in its diffusers.
Behind the reception desk, the attendant glanced up from her screen. Recognition flickered instantly in her eyes as she saw him, her expression lifting into something brighter and almost amused.
"Well, well," she said, straightening a little. "Evening, Phainon."
Phainon drifted towards her desk, leaning lightly against the counter as her shoulders relaxed in a way they never did around actual clients. "Don't sound so surprised."
She rolled her eyes in a fond, exaggerated way, then lowered her voice just enough to make it feel like they were sharing a secret. "Heading up?"
"Yeah," he whispered back, playing along even though everyone knew there was only one reason he'd come.
She nodded, then gestured toward the elevators. "He should be in his office."
"Figured." Phainon pushed off the counter. "I'll be going then."
Her smile softened. "Have a good evening, Phainon."
"You too." He dipped his head in a grateful gesture before turning toward the elevators, the quiet of the lobby settling around him and making his footsteps echo as he crossed the floor.
When he reached the elevator, he pressed the call button with his thumb, the small light blinking on beneath it. The doors slid open a moment later, and Phainon stepped inside, selecting Mydei's floor with a quick tap. A moment later, the doors closed and the elevator began its ascent. Phainon exhaled once, watching the numbers tick upward.
He hoped Mydei wasn't too stressed today. Hoped he hadn't dug himself so deep into work that he'd forgotten to come up for air. The thought tugged at him, threading through his excitement with a thin line of nerves he couldn't quite shake.
As he shifted, the fullness inside him moved along with the motion. It was a quiet, intimate reminder of the plug he'd put in before leaving home—just in case his visit went the way he hoped it might. The idea of Mydei discovering it sent heat rushing up his neck and stole a bit of his breath.
It felt like minutes, but the elevator eventually eased to a stop and the doors parted. The top-floor hallway stretched out ahead of him, mostly empty at this hour. Phainon started forward into the direction of the CEO's office. Halfway down the hall, an assistant hurried past him with an armful of files. He offered Phainon a quick nod, and Phainon returned it with a small one of his own before continuing on.
The closer he came to Mydei's office, the more the mix of anticipation and nerves curled low in his stomach, tightening with each step. He smoothed a hand down the front of his hoodie and took a deep breath.
Then—without knocking—he wrapped his fingers around the handle and walked in.
Mydei's office was its usual mix of tidy and lived-in: clean surfaces, everything in its place, but with some scattered notes and pens showing that he actually worked here. The evening light filtering through the two wide windows along the far wall softened the room into a muted gold, catching on the red accents threaded through the paneling. His desk was positioned a short distance from the windows, dark wood with a laptop pushed off to the side, and papers fanned out across it.
Along the left wall, tall bookshelves held various binders, a few books, and small decorations tucked between them. A tall potted plant filled the corner near the shelves.
Mydei stood in front of one of them, a file open in his hands. His jacket sat neatly on him, but the open top button of his shirt gave him a slightly undone edge that Phainon noticed right away. His blond hair was tied low, red tips brushing his back, and a few loose strands had slipped forward across his cheeks.
He glanced up at the sound of the door, most likely expecting an assistant with another armful of work. His eyes widened instead, a brief flicker of surprise breaking through his focus when he saw Phainon standing there. Then his eyes softened into fond exasperation. It was the expression he wore whenever Phainon disrupted the rigid structure of his day.
Phainon's smile rose on instinct, crooked and a little sheepish, an apology and a hello tangled together. He stepped fully inside and eased the door shut behind him, letting it click softly into place. His hand lingered on the lock for only a second before turning it—a small, decisive motion that he wasn't going to bother pretending was innocent. Not today.
"Evening," Phainon said, a bit too casual by several degrees.
Mydei caught the tone immediately and his eyebrows lifted. He didn't comment on the locked door though, only looked at him.
"Phainon." Mydei's voice landed somewhere between a greeting and a warning as he closed the file in his hands with deliberate calm. He slid it onto the shelf beside him. "Didn't I tell you to stay home?"
"You did tell me that," Phainon replied, tilting his head, a slow, shameless grin forming on his face. "And I very politely ignored you."
Mydei sighed in surrender, his gaze dropping briefly as though he needed a second to gather whatever authority he had left. Phainon couldn't help but notice, though, that Mydei didn't even try to put up a fight. It made something stupidly soft bloom in Phainon's chest.
A breath later, Mydei's calm was back with practiced ease, his expression evening out. He stepped away from the bookshelf and started walking toward him.
"You know I have deadlines," he said as he approached.
Phainon' smile curved wider as he stepped forward to meet Mydei in the middle. "Are you implying that I'm distracting?" he asked lightly, his voice carrying the exact shade of false innocence that always got him in trouble.
Mydei just stared at him, giving him the flattest, most unimpressed look.
But then his gaze sharpened, almost imperceptibly. Phainon caught the exact instant Mydei recognized the scent on him—his scent. Mydei's eyes drifted down next, taking in the jacket resting on Phainon's shoulders before lifting back up with a slower, more deliberate pass.
Phainon tugged at the lapel with an easy, teasing gesture. "Oh, this? Thought you wouldn't mind."
He kept the grin on his face, but the warmth under it was real. Yes, he'd done this to provoke Mydei, to pull Mydei's attention away from endless deadlines—but wearing Mydei's things made him feel close to him, especially now, when their time together kept shrinking into smaller and smaller pockets of the day. And he knew exactly what it did to Mydei, too; the man always got a little riled when Phainon walked around in his clothes or wore them while streaming.
Mydei closed the last steps between them, and Phainon felt the air shift before Mydei's hands even touched him. Then those hands lifted, smoothing down the front of Phainon's borrowed jacket as if checking its fit. His palms slid a little lower, brushing the fabric of Phainon's hoodie before moving up again to his neckline. With practiced fingers, Mydei adjusted the soft edge where it fell open, nudging it into something neater, something properly framed.
It was such a small, composed motion, but it made heat unfurl low in Phainon's stomach. Mydei fussing with his clothes always did that to him, the quiet ownership tucked into every touch.
Then Mydei's hands shifted.
His right traced the necklace resting against Phainon's collarbones, thumb brushing lightly over the metal he'd chosen for him. The touch lingered, warm and contemplative. His other hand settled on Phainon's shoulder and gave a single, grounding squeeze that made Phainon's breath catch.
Mydei's thumb followed the line up to the choker just above the necklace, slow enough that Phainon felt every point of contact. Then the hand rose higher, cupping his cheek with a softness that contrasted with the firm hold on his shoulder.
Phainon leaned into it instantly.
Mydei's forehead dipped toward his, breath brushing warm across Phainon's mouth. His touch shifted there, sweeping over Phainon's lips, tracing the shape of it before pressing down in a silent request for permission. Phainon parted them for him without hesitation.
Mydei acted on that permission at once, his lips meeting Phainon's in a kiss that was so soft, it made Phainon's chest tighten. He kissed him like he meant to savor every second and Phainon returned it just as gently, wanting to linger in that closeness for as long as he could. For a moment, nothing else in the room existed—just the warmth of Mydei's mouth against his and the way their breaths mixed.
When he finally pulled back, his hand stayed on Phainon's shoulder for a beat before he gave it a firm, measured pat. The shift in his posture was unmistakable; the softness of the moment tightened into something more controlled.
"I need to finish work," Mydei said, stepping back enough to look responsible again, even though his eyes hadn't cooled in the slightest.
The change hit Phainon hard, heat rushing through him in a sudden surge that left his whole body on edge. His breath caught because he'd been pulled under and then released just as quickly. It left him aching, already leaning after a closeness that was no longer being offered.
He nodded though, his lips tugging downward before he could stop it. Disappointed wasn't the right word. He understood that Mydei had to finish up, but understanding didn't do anything to calm the restless tension humming in his body.
Mydei, ever composed, turned away with a small exhale and made his way to his desk. He settled into his chair and angled himself toward his laptop. A few quiet clicks followed as he woke the screen, fingers moving with practiced efficiency. He reached for a paper on the corner of the desk, scanning it with a faint crease between his brows.
Meanwhile, Phainon hovered. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other before pulling his arms behind his back. Rocking lightly on his heels, he tried—and failed—to pretend he wasn't doing it out of restless, awkward energy. The room felt too silent, too still after that kiss.
He cleared his throat once, and then again, because it came out too soft the first time.
"Nice office," he blurted, voice a touch too bright. "Nice place. Very, uh. Office-y."
As soon as the words left his mouth, he winced because he had absolutely been here before. Multiple times. He knew every inch of this room. Why had he said that?
Mydei let out a quiet, put-upon sigh. "Phainon."
Phainon straightened a little, then lifted a hand and mimed zipping his mouth shut, locking it, and tossing the imaginary key away. His expression said, See? Perfectly behaved. Mydei, unfortunately, looked like he believed none of it.
He returned to his work with a small shake of his head, eyes dropping back to the document in front of him.
Left to his own devices, Phainon drifted toward the bookshelf with all the enthusiasm of someone approaching a museum exhibit. He stopped in front of the rows of binders and books, leaning in as if studying something profound.
Wow, he thought dryly. Folders. Incredible.
He scanned a few spines—project reports, budgets, records—and blinked slowly.
Yep. Fascinating.
Phainon let his gaze drift over the rows again, more out of boredom than real curiosity, until something actually caught his eye. It was a book about authenticating artifacts from a specific region he knew all too well. Absolutely something Phainon loved reading about, and absolutely something Mydei wouldn't pick up.
Which meant it had to be here for him.
Warmth bloomed in Phainon's chest, and he found himself tracing the spine with his fingertips before sliding the book free from the shelf. Without saying a word, he walked to the nearest chair and settled into it, crossing one leg over the other as he opened the book.
Mydei glanced over at him, eyes flicking from the book to Phainon's face. He held his gaze for a moment and then gave a small, approving nod before returning to his screen.
Phainon smiled against the page as he started reading. Or… tried to.
Normally this kind of book would've had him hooked in seconds, but tonight the words sat strangely flat on the page. They blurred, swimming in and out of focus as his mind kept drifting back to the man sitting a few feet away. Still, he kept at it because Mydei needed time to work, and Phainon could at least attempt to be patient.
Every few sentences, he glanced up over the top of the book. Mydei hadn't moved from his position at the desk, posture straight, shoulders set, looking at his laptop. He was fully absorbed, his brows slightly knit.
He looked good like that, which did absolutely nothing to help Phainon's ability to concentrate. Phainon swallowed and put his focus back on the book. He liked this topic. He wanted to read this.
The room felt too quiet. The only sound was the faint tapping of Mydei's keys and the occasional rustle of paper when he double-checked something. Yet somehow he managed to get halfway through the chapter. He turned the page, blinked at the text, and realized with a helpless sigh that he had no idea what he'd just read. His brain had been too busy tracking every shift of Mydei's shoulders, every exhale, every sign that maybe a break was coming.
He had to have a break soon, right? Because if he had to sit here much longer, he was going to combust.
Phainon shifted in the chair, trying to find a position that didn't make his legs fall asleep. The motion was small—barely anything—but it changed the angle of his hips just enough for the plug inside him to press deeper.
A sharp, bright jolt of pleasure shot up his spine. His breath hitched hard in his throat and the book slipped a fraction lower in his hands.
He straightened immediately, back snapping back into perfect posture. His fingers tightened on the edges of the pages, knuckles whitening for a second before he forced them to relax.
Fuck.
Heat crawled up his neck. He could feel it settling along his cheeks, prickling under his skin, impossible to hide. He stared very intensely at the book as if sheer force of will could keep him looking normal.
But the plug stayed exactly where it had shifted, thick and unyielding, filling him so completely that he couldn't even pretend to ignore it now. Every tiny movement nudged it, and the resulting pressure made his pulse kick up.
Across the room, Mydei only continued typing away on his laptop.
Phainon squirmed in his seat, trying to ease the feeling, to shift the fullness inside him back to something manageable.
Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect.
The angle changed, the plug pushing deeper in a slow glide that made his breath stutter out of him in a thin, soundless gasp. He clamped his thighs together on instinct, trying to trap the sensation, to contain it. But even that tiny motion sent another rush through him, a warm, unbearable throb that made his toes curl.
Titans. He was going to lose it. Right there. In a chair. Doing absolutely nothing.
Inhaling deeply, Phainon stared at the same sentence for a full, miserable minute. His eyes tracked the words, but nothing registered. The letters may as well have been abstract shapes.
His leg bounced once and he immediately froze when the movement rocked the plug again.
Slowly, he lifted his gaze toward Mydei's desk.
Mydei still hadn't looked up. His brows were furrowed, lips set in a faint line, completely engrossed in the screen. The light from it cut along his cheekbones, the sweep of his hair secured at the nape of his neck, the slight flex of his fingers when he typed.
He was painfully beautiful. And completely ignoring him.
Phainon felt achingly aware of his own body, of the weight inside him, and of the suffocating quiet stretching between them. The silence pressed in on him. Every second Mydei didn't glance his way wound tighter and tighter in his chest until the need for his attention became too much.
He couldn't sit here anymore. He couldn't pretend to behave, couldn't pretend to read, and he especially couldn't keep drowning in the heat curling in his core.
He was done.
With a soft exhale, he gently set the book aside on the chair next to him. Then he rose to his feet carefully, trying not to let the plug send another spike through him.
Honestly, Phainon thought Mydei would've cracked ages ago.
With the jacket, the necklace, the cologne—something should've broken that impeccable composure by now. Instead, Mydei had just… gone back to work.
How rude.
Phainon narrowed his eyes slightly. Mydei was being professional. That infuriating, self-controlled, responsible version of him that only showed up during work hours. And late into the night. And on the weekends. And on any day ending in -day lately.
Phainon knew that version well. Respected it. Admired it, even.
But right now, he hated it.
Because he had seen the cracks. He knew Mydei wasn't unaffected by him. The man could pretend all he wanted, but Phainon had felt the truth in every touch earlier—the way Mydei's fingers had lingered at his neck a little too long, brushing over the necklace. The way his eyes had taken him in like he was something to savor and memorize.
Mydei was overdue for a break anyway. A very long and necessary one. Hours of staring at a screen couldn't possibly be good for him. Phainon was doing him a favor, really.
He very deliberately ignored the tiny voice in his head pointing out that he spent hours staring at a screen for a living. That wasn't relevant.
Phainon crossed the remaining distance to the desk with slow, unhurried steps. When he reached it, he eased himself onto the corner, settling on it with a soft thud. His legs swung idly in the air.
Mydei glanced up at the movement. Then—just as quickly—his gaze dropped back to the screen and a quiet sigh slipped out of him.
Phainon's lips curled.
His own gaze drifted over the desk until it landed on a pen near his thigh. He picked it up without thinking, twirling it between his fingers, letting it spin once, twice—
Mydei paused in his typing.
Without looking up, he said, "Put that down."
Phainon froze. Then, very slowly, very obediently, he set the pen back onto the desk with exaggerated, delicate care, never breaking eye contact with the side of Mydei's face.
His smile crept wider, entirely too pleased with himself.
He could practically feel Mydei's strained patience from here, and it made something warm flutter in his chest.
Phainon waited—long enough to confirm that yes, Mydei was truly, stubbornly committed to ignoring the fact that Phainon was on his desk—before pushing himself off the corner with a light hop. Fine. If it wasn't enough to get a reaction, he had other methods.
He wandered around the desk and came to stand beside Mydei's chair, leaning in so he could peer over his shoulder at the laptop.
Mydei stiffened instantly.
"You spelled that wrong," Phainon said, tone bright and unhelpful.
Mydei's hand shot out to cover the screen. "Go. Away," he said flatly.
Phainon snorted. He wasn't really allowed to read any client-sensitive material, so he doubted Mydei was actually hiding something important—not that he'd gotten more than a blur of text anyway.
He backed off a few steps, laughing under his breath.
Mydei, frowning, lifted his hand and checked the line. His eyes narrowed. Then he exhaled through his nose in half groan, half disbelief.
Phainon's grin turned positively wicked.
There was actually nothing spelled wrong. He'd just wanted to see Mydei's reaction. And Mydei definitely knew, because he shot Phainon a look that promised consequences.
Despite Mydei's words to go away, Phainon hovered beside his chair, rocking on his heels before leaning in again.
"Do you want water?" he asked. "Tea? Coffee? A snack? A break? A stretch? A hug?"
Mydei rubbed both hands over his face, dragging his palms down slowly. "No," he said. "And please be quiet. I have to work."
Phainon's mouth fell into a wounded little pout. Quiet? Quiet? He'd come all this way, wearing all these things, and Mydei wanted him to be quiet?
Unacceptable.
"Hug it is," he declared, stepping behind Mydei's chair, sliding his arms around his shoulders, and hugged him from behind. His body draped over Mydei's back like a blanket that refused to be shaken off. Then he nuzzled into the side of Mydei's neck, inhaling the same scent of cologne that Phainon was wearing right now.
But, infuriatingly, Mydei's hands stayed on the keyboard and he continued working like Phainon wasn't currently wrapped around him.
Titans, Phainon thought with a growing scowl, he's so stubborn.
The longing inside him sharpened, twisting his stomach until frustration prickled under his skin. He needed Mydei's attention like air, needed him to look. So, before he could talk himself out of it, Phainon slipped around the chair.
He stepped right between Mydei and the desk, blocking the screen and the paperwork.
Mydei blinked, finally looking up, confusion breaking through his composure. "Phainon, what are you—"
Phainon didn't let him finish, he simply lowered himself, sinking right into Mydei's lap, and the chair dipped under the added weight. Mydei froze beneath him. One of his hands shot out automatically, fingers curling around Phainon's waist in pure reflex.
Phainon's palms settled on Mydei's shoulders, steadying himself. The chair wasn't really built for two, and sitting like this was… a little awkward, if he was honest. His balance wobbled a bit, knees bracketing Mydei's hips, the narrow armrests digging into his thighs. But he didn't care. He wanted to be here.
He leaned in, so close that their noses almost touched, and pouted directly in Mydei's face.
"Mydei…" A soft, wounded sound colored his voice. "You're barely looking at me. I miss you."
Phainon saw the moment Mydei's composure wavered, the crack opening enough to show the warmth and exhaustion underneath. Layered above it, though, was pure exasperation.
His other hand came up, settling on Phainon's waist too, firm and warm through the fabric. His voice came out strained. "Phainon… I told you, I have to finish—"
Phainon squirmed in Mydei's lap, arms winding around his neck as he leaned closer. Then he rolled his hips in a slow, deliberate grind.
Mydei inhaled sharply, breath catching, and his fingers tightened at Phainon's waist. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment. When he opened them again, he looked at Phainon and his expression softened.
A tiny crease formed between Mydei's brows, faint but unmistakably apologetic. Then he adjusted his grip and pushed up from the chair, rising to his feet.
Phainon's thighs clamped around him immediately, a startled sound catching in his throat. But Mydei held him easily. In one smooth motion, he placed Phainon on the edge of his desk.
Mydei held him there for another beat, eyes locked with Phainon's. Neither of them blinked. The air between them was charged, until Mydei finally shifted, leaning sideways to close his laptop with one hand.
He stared at the device for a second… then tried to step back.
Phainon's legs tightened around him instantly, hands gripping his shoulders. "Mydei!"
Mydei paused, his hands smoothing down Phainon's sides in a calm, soothing glide. "I'm not going anywhere," he murmured. "I'm just putting the laptop away."
"Oh." Phainon loosened his hold. "Finally taking a break?"
Mydei gave him a look he didn't bother interpreting and carried the laptop to the nearby bookshelf, putting it onto an empty space.
Phainon stayed perched on the desk, legs parted slightly where Mydei had been standing a moment ago. His hands braced behind him on the desk, supporting him as he watched Mydei walk back with barely contained anticipation.
And Mydei didn't hesitate. He stepped right back into the space between Phainon's knees, as if that spot belonged to him, his palms coming to rest on Phainon's thighs.
Phainon's breath caught and his fingers curled against the wooden surface.
Mydei's eyes met his, wry and impossibly fond. "Someone climbed into my lap and refused to get off," he said. "Hard to ignore."
Heat bloomed under Phainon's skin, creeping up his neck to his cheeks. Embarrassment fluttered through him—alongside something undeniably pleased.
"Oh," he whispered, trying and failing to sound unaffected. "Well. Good."
Mydei's mouth curved into a small, dry smile. His fingers rose and caught Phainon's chin between his thumb and forefinger. Then he leaned in close, his breath ghosting over Phainon's lips.
Phainon's eyes went half-lidded instantly, his mouth parting in a small, helpless invitation.
"I missed you too," Mydei said.
Phainon's heart thudded hard, and didn't recover before Mydei's hand slid from his chin to the back of his head, fingers threading into his hair as he pulled him into a kiss.
The kiss was nothing like the earlier one. It was deeper, more consuming, making warmth bloom everywhere their bodies touched. Phainon melted into it, and his arms rose to wrap around Mydei, holding him close.
Mydei angled his head, tilting Phainon's slightly with the hand at the back of it, deepening the kiss with ease. His lips pressed firmer, guiding the pace entirely. His other hand stayed steady on Phainon's thigh, grounding him.
Phainon yielded under him without hesitation, opening for him easily, the kiss pulling quiet sounds from the back of his throat that Mydei swallowed down.
When Mydei finally broke from the kiss, it was only far enough for air to pass between them. Their lips hovered close, both of them drawing in unsteady, shallow breaths that warmed the narrow space separating their mouths. Phainon's chest rose against Mydei's, every inhale brushing their bodies together.
Slowly, Phainon lifted his arms from around Mydei's neck. His hands cupped Mydei's cheeks and guided their foreheads together. They stayed like that, sharing the same, thin air.
"I love you," Phainon whispered, the words slipping out soft and earnest, raw with how long he'd been craving this closeness. Being here like this—touching him, holding him—felt like finally relaxing after days of holding tension in his chest.
Mydei hummed. He caught Phainon's wrist, thumb brushing the inside of it as he smiled.
"I love you too."
Then he leaned in and gave Phainon a fleeting peck on the mouth.
Mydei stayed close, but his gaze drifted downward, tracing the line of Phainon's body, pausing where his thighs were parted. Without a word, Mydei's hands moved to Phainon's clothes, finding the hem of the jacket. He pushed it off his shoulders, guiding it down Phainon's arms.
Once he was free, Mydei turned, clearly intending to put it away.
"Ah!" Phainon blurted.
Mydei paused mid-step, glancing back at him with one brow lifted. "What?"
"The pocket…" Phainon pointed at the jacket.
Mydei blinked, then reached into the pocket without comment. When he pulled his hand out, it held a small bottle of lube. His eyebrows lifted higher.
Phainon lifted his own, unbothered. "What? Clearly we need it."
Well, technically he'd already prepped at home, but he brought it anyway. Just in case.
Mydei huffed a laugh under his breath and hung the jacket over his chair. Then he placed the bottle on the corner of the desk within easy reach.
When Mydei returned to him, his hands smoothed down the front of his hoodie before slipping beneath it. His cool palms met Phainon's bare skin, and Phainon jolted in surprise. Mydei leaned in at the same moment, his mouth brushing the side of Phainon's neck, lips warm where his hands weren't.
Phainon swallowed, tilting his head to give him more room. He hoped the necklace against his collarbone wouldn't get in the way—not that Mydei seemed to care. Every place his hands traveled left a trail of heat in their wake, the contrast making Phainon shiver.
Mydei's hands drifted lower, settling on Phainon's hips. He worked the button open easily, then dragged the zipper down. He helped Phainon lift enough to slide the pants down his legs, tugging them free and dropping them aside. The boxers followed next.
The fabric slid down, exposing skin and the hard, aching line of his cock. It sprang free, flushed and already hard.
Phainon squirmed a little as the cool air touched his newly bare skin. His gaze flicked downward—and winced. Papers were scattered everywhere, even crumpling under his legs.
He blinked down at them. "Uh… these aren't important, right?"
"Ignore them," Mydei said without looking away from him. He lowered himself into his chair, sliding close, his mouth level with Phainon's cock. His hands came up to grip his thighs, fingers pressing into them in a slow massage.
"Oh…" The sound escaped him, soft and dazed. "Mydei, you don't have to," he managed a bit unsteady. "I—I came here to make you feel good."
Mydei chuckled, low and warm, and titans, it went straight through Phainon. "You think watching you fall apart doesn't do anything for me?"
Phainon's face heated. Okay, yes, Mydei had said something like that before… but still…
Mydei's fingers stroked once more over his skin. "Let me take care of you."
Phainon exhaled, his entire body loosening at the words. He bit down on his lower lip and nodded. "Okay."
Mydei's smile deepened and then he leaned in and dragged his tongue slowly up the underside of Phainon's cock, tracing a line from the base to the flushed tip, savoring every inch.
Phainon braced his hands behind him, fingers curling against the desk as his head tipped back. Heat coiled in his stomach, tightening with every slow stroke of Mydei's mouth.
Mydei hummed faintly, the sound vibrating against Phainon's skin as he licked him again. His tongue circled the head, teasing the underside where Phainon was most sensitive, before sliding back down in a long, unhurried sweep that made Phainon's hips twitch forward.
"Oh—Mydei…" Phainon breathed, leaning back further, elbows and forearms catching his weight as his body arched toward the warmth of Mydei's mouth.
Mydei didn't rush. He explored him instead, licking along the sides, tracing the veins, stroking the head with careful pressure until Phainon felt like he was burning from the inside out.
Then, finally, Mydei parted his lips.
He took the head into his mouth, sinking down to envelop him in heat, tongue flat against the underside as he sucked. Phainon gasped, his hips jerking but Mydei's hands held him down so he couldn't move.
"Ah—titans—" The moan ripped out of Phainon.
Mydei kept him there, working him slowly, setting a steady rhythm. Each stroke sent a sharp, sweet pulse through Phainon's whole body.
Mydei eventually pulled off with a wet sound, breath unsteady. His chest rose and fell a few times, then stilled as his gaze dropped. It slid past Phainon's flushed cock, lower, to where Phainon's legs were spread wider now that he was leaning back. His hole was more exposed, and the plug nestled there in full view.
Mydei stared.
He stared so intensely that it made Phainon's breath falter. The silence stretched, thick and unbearable, until a small, helpless whine slipped out of him. His hips squirmed, trying to move, to pull Mydei's attention back onto him—onto doing something instead of just looking.
Mydei blinked, snapping out of whatever trance he'd fallen into. His hand lifted, almost automatically, and his thumb brushed across the base of the plug.
The touch was barely anything, yet Phainon clenched around it and moaned, spine curving.
Mydei exhaled, rough at the edges. "You prepared yourself for me?" he asked, voice thick.
Phainon nodded, cheeks burning. "Yeah, I… I missed you. I… just in case…"
A slow smirk tugged at Mydei's mouth. "No wonder you couldn't sit still."
Phainon groaned, a bit mortified.
Mydei's smirk sharpened, darkening with intent. Then he stood from the chair and reached for Phainon's hoodie, pushing it upward until it bunched above Phainon's chest. He barely had time to react before Mydei guided him backward.
His spine met the cool surface of the desk, and he sank into it, startled but yielding. Mydei caught his wrists and raised his arms above his head, and Phainon kept them there instinctively even when Mydei let go to lean down and kiss him… everywhere.
His mouth met his collarbones first. Then lower, lips brushing a line across his chest. He kissed over Phainon's sternum, across the curve of his pec, and then down to one nipple. His mouth closed around it, tongue flicking once, twice over it. He lingered there before moving to the other side and doing the same.
Phainon's entire body trembled. Heat throbbed through him, shooting straight to his cock. He was already leaking, the wetness gathering at his tip as he clenched helplessly around the plug. The ache in him was unbearable now. All he could think about was how badly he needed Mydei inside him, replacing that plug, filling him.
Mydei continued downward, lips following the line of his ribs to his stomach. Then lower, toward the soft crease of his hip.
A flicker of awareness cut through the haze. He was spread out on Mydei's desk, hoodie bunched up high on his torso, everything else bare. Nearly completely naked while Mydei was still fully dressed. The sight, the imbalance of it, hit him with a new, dizzy wave of arousal.
They weren't even at home. They were in Mydei's office. There could be an employee walking down the hall, someone just outside the door—
He swallowed hard and resolved to be quiet.
And then Mydei licked up Phainon's cock again.
The sound that tore out of him was anything but quiet. He swore he could hear it echo embarrassingly loud, bouncing off the walls. But he couldn't concentrate or care about anything except the mouth on him anymore.
Mydei settled back into his chair again, positioning himself between Phainon's spread thighs. This time, he lifted Phainon's legs and draped them over his shoulders, hands sliding down to anchor his hips before lowering his mouth again.
He closed around Phainon's cock with far less patience than before, sucking him down in a smooth, hungry motion. Phainon was already trembling, and each bob of Mydei's head sent a sharp ripple through him, tightening in his core, dragging him closer and closer to the edge.
"Mydei—ah—" His voice cracked, hips wanting to move but held firmly in place by the grip on him. "Wait—I'm—I'm gonna—"
Mydei pulled off just in time, his hands replacing the warmth of his mouth instantly. He stroked him through the final, desperate seconds.
Phainon came with a sharp cry, back arching off the desk.
Pleasure tore through him in a hot, blinding rush. He spilled over his stomach in thick pulses, streaking up to his chest, and dripping over Mydei's knuckles. His muscles clenched hard around the plug, body shaking with each wave until he had nothing left to give.
He panted, blinking up at the ceiling, barely aware of the papers sticking to his back or the sweat cooling on his skin. He was distantly aware that he'd just come from nothing but Mydei's mouth on him and a plug.
For a moment, it was quiet… and then Mydei stood.
Phainon barely had time to process it—still drifting in the afterglow, until Mydei wiped his hand on a nearby document and reached for the plug.
Phainon's breath hitched. "Mydei—wait—"
Mydei pulled.
The plug slid free and a shocked whine tore from Phainon as his hips rocked upward toward nothing. His thighs shook where they rested, and he clenched around emptiness, the absence hitting him with a startling force.
He felt empty. Hollowed out. It was unbearable. It made his body ache for something—someone—to fill him again.
"Mydei," he whimpered. "Please."
Humiliatingly, he could feel his cock twitching again with a faint pulse of need he had no business feeling so soon after coming. Was he really this worked up?
Mydei's hand returned to his hips, rubbing a slow, grounding circle into his skin. It was meant to steady him, but the touch only made his head swim harder. His eyes squeezed shut, jaw clenching to anchor himself, fingers scrambling uselessly for purchase against the desk as more helpless noises spilled out of him.
Titans, this was embarrassing.
Maybe it was the office, this desk, this place they absolutely shouldn't be doing this in that had him wired so high. The uncomfortably hard surface against his back, the faint rustle of papers, the cool air hitting the streaks of his own cum drying on his stomach and chest. Maybe it was knowing that someone could walk by the door at any time, even as unlikely as that was at this hour. It made everything more overwhelming.
Somewhere above him, he heard the soft rustle of fabric—Mydei was removing his jacket, though Phainon didn't dare open his eyes to look. He was wound up enough already.
A firm hand gripped his thigh and spread him open. His leg was guided up, braced against Mydei's shoulder.
"You wanted my attention, didn't you?" Mydei murmured. "So hold still… and take all of it."
The words shot straight through him and a sob escaped him. He nodded, frantic, stuttering. "I—I do," he managed. "I want all of it."
Mydei rewarded him for that honesty immediately, and pressed a kiss to the tender skin of his inner thigh. Something warm and hungry flickered in Mydei's eyes when he lifted his head again.
"Good," he said, voice low.
When Phainon finally opened his eyes again, the sight nearly undid him. Mydei's shirt was still on, sleeves pushed up his forearms, exposing strong wrists and the elegant lines of his hands. He looked composed and devastating… and he was looking at Phainon like he was the only thing in the room that mattered, unlike earlier.
Mydei's hand came back down between Phainon's legs, fingertips brushing lightly over his stretched rim.
Phainon gasped soundlessly, the breath punched right out of him.
Mydei didn't speak. He simply pressed a finger inside.
It slid in effortlessly—slick and ready from all the prep Phainon had done—and the ease of it made his heart stutter. His cock gave another hard twitch, already stirring again despite everything.
Mydei's finger curled inside him. "So open," Mydei murmured, almost to himself. "You stretched yourself so well for me."
Phainon barely registered the words, too overwhelmed to process anything except the fact that one finger wasn't nearly enough. His body clenched around it, wanting more.
"Please," he whispered, voice faint. "I'm ready."
Mydei hummed, amused. "I guess we don't need the extra lube you brought."
Phainon nodded quickly, desperate, hoping Mydei would stop talking and do something.
"Impatient," Mydei chuckled, and then began to withdraw his finger.
Phainon whined the second it started to leave him. He even lifted off the desk a little, trying to follow after Mydei's hand.
Mydei clicked his tongue. "Do you want my cock or not?"
Phainon nearly choked on air. He nodded so fast his whole body shook with it. The words tumbled out of him in a frantic rush. "Yes—yes, titans, please—"
Mydei's breath hitched. The sound alone made Phainon's pulse jump.
"Good," he said, "then hold still."
His hand left Phainon's thigh and moved to his own pants, fingers finding the button. He wasn't rushing despite the desire in his eyes. The zipper slid down, and Mydei pushed the fabric open with his thumb. His hand slipped inside, and Phainon's held his breath without realizing it.
Then Mydei drew his cock out.
It was thick, flushed, and heavy in his hand. Phainon's mouth fell open, eyes fixed on the length of him as Mydei wrapped a hand around the base.
He wanted it inside him. No, he needed it inside him.
Titans, he would never get used to how big Mydei was—no matter how many times they'd done this, no matter how many times he'd taken him. His body remembered the stretch, the burn, the fullness, and still, it shocked him every time.
"Mydei…" he managed. "It's… so big…"
"You can take it," Mydei's thumb stroked along the base of his cock as he looked at Phainon. "You're already so open for me."
Phainon's cock gave a helpless little jump at the reassurance.
Mydei adjusted the angle of Phainon's thigh, lifting it just a little higher, guiding it until the position pleased him. Only then did he bring his cock forward, the head nudging against Phainon's hole, and every muscle in Phainon's body went taut, bracing for the moment he'd been craving.
"Breathe," Mydei told him.
Phainon dragged in a sharp inhale and forced the air out again, his muscles softening at the command. Mydei's approving hum washed over him.
"Good."
Then, without warning, Mydei shifted his hips forward in one steady, confident push.
He slid inside in a single smooth motion. There was barely any resistance, just Mydei filling him all the way to the hilt in one deep, seamless thrust. Phainon's vision went white at the edges, everything inside him blanking under the overwhelming intensity.
His mouth fell open around a strangled sound as his eyes rolled back. His nails scraped across the desk, papers crinkling beneath the arch of his spine as it bowed off the surface.
The burn of the stretch hit him first—sharp, and sweet, and absolutely perfect—and then the fullness followed, settling deep inside him until he thought he might actually lose his mind.
Phainon could feel every inch. He felt split open around him, stretched wide and stuffed full, and a flicker of shock stirred through him at how effortlessly his body had taken him. He clenched around the intrusion, and gasped Mydei's name as he struggled to pull in the breath he'd just lost.
The clench drew a low, rough groan from Mydei.
He went still, every muscle tight with restraint. One hand stayed firm on Phainon's leg, keeping him open, while the other braced against the desk. His breath escaped in a harsh exhale.
"You took me so well," he breathed, voice strained in the most devastating way. His thumb stroked Phainon's skin, grounding and possessive all at once. "Such a good boy."
Phainon could hardly process anything beyond the cock buried inside him. His thoughts kept circling in desperate, frantic loops—how good it felt, how impossibly deep Mydei was, how nothing compared to this, not the plug, not his imagination, not the aching anticipation he'd spent all night drowning in. He'd missed this. He'd missed him.
If Mydei moved right now—if he so much as breathed wrong—Phainon was certain he would pass out. Thankfully Mydei stayed still, holding him open, letting him adjust.
Bit by bit, Phainon's breathing evened out. His mind remained foggy, thick with sensation, with heat, with pleasure that bordered on too much. "…full…" he whispered, barely aware he'd said it out loud.
Okay… maybe I can… handle—
Mydei shifted before Phainon could finish the thought. He pulled his hips back, the thick drag of his cock slipping nearly all the way out, then pushed forward in one long, slow thrust, burying himself deep again.
Phainon felt everything. Every inch leaving him. Every inch returning. Every moment of empty ache followed by overwhelming fullness.
His throat locked up as he fought not to scream, and what escaped was a choked, broken noise as his hands flew to his mouth to smother it. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes from the sheer overstimulation, the shock, and the pleasure that hit too fast and too hard.
Office, his mind echoed weakly. Even through the haze, he knew how wildly inappropriate this was. The danger only made heat surge through him harder.
Mydei exhaled sharply, the sound ragging through his chest, and a groan followed as he pushed all the way in again. He stayed there, deep, letting Phainon drown in the sensation of being stretched around him, held open, made to take every bit of him.
Phainon's breath quivered against his own palms.
Mydei reached for Phainon's other thigh and eased it up until it came to rest beside the first, so both of them were pressed together over Mydei's shoulder.
Phainon gasped at the new angle. Heat radiated from Mydei's body where the back of his thighs met his shoulder, seeping into his skin.
Mydei's hands gripped his knees, bracing him exactly as he wanted him. And without hesitating, he pulled back.
Phainon felt the drag of him all over again—nearly all the way out—
—and then Mydei snapped his hips forward in a deep thrust that drove into him with decisive precision, the force of it rocking Phainon against the desk as the wood groaned beneath him.
Mydei found a quick rhythm, and each thrust hit the exact angle that made Phainon's vision blur at the edges. Every movement punched a moan out of him, messy and high and impossible to swallow down. His hands stayed clamped over his mouth, palms trembling as they tried—and failed—to muffle the noises spilling through his fingers. His cock bounced against his stomach with each snap of Mydei's hips, smearing slick across his skin.
"Mmm—Mydei—" he gasped into his hands, the sound breaking apart as Mydei's hips drove forward again and again, leaving him wrecked and shaking under the force of it.
Mydei groaned, and his hips stuttered. His grip on Phainon tightened, digging into his skin like he needed an anchor.
"Just like that," he rasped, voice rough. "So good for me."
Phainon whimpered under the praise. His hips lifted automatically, chasing the next thrust, offering himself up without thinking.
Mydei didn't slow. He drove forward again, pistoning into him, each thrust landing with a wet, obscene sound that echoed far too loudly in the office.
Phainon choked out a desperate plea. For what, he didn't even know. More? Harder? The word spilled out without thought, dragged from somewhere deep within him.
Mydei's rhythm faltered as his composure began to slip, the control he held so tightly fraying. His breathing turned rougher, each inhale scraping out of him. Phainon felt the muscles along Mydei's abdomen tighten, and saw the way his jaw locked.
"Phainon," he groaned.
His hands traveled down to hook behind Phainon's knees, lifting them off his shoulders, and began lowering them, angling them around his hips. Then both of his hands grabbed Phainon's hips.
His fingers dug in just before he yanked Phainon forward across the desk.
Phainon's body slid across the desk a few inches, pulled back onto Mydei's cock with a strength that knocked the breath from him. The wood dug awkwardly into his back, but the discomfort barely registered under the flood of pleasure.
Mydei leaned forward, bracing himself with both hands on the desk on either side of Phainon. Phainon blinked up at him and could see sweat beading along his temple, could see the fine sheen on his throat and collarbone.
Like this, Mydei slammed back into him harder than anything before. The desk jerked beneath them with the thrust, but Mydei didn't stop. He wasn't fast now, but every thrust came heavy and punishing, driving into Phainon with deliberate force.
Phainon's breath fled him in a shocked gasp. His voice cracked, dissolving as Mydei pushed in again and again. The desk shifted another inch with the impact, protesting under the weight and power behind each movement.
Mydei's breath came through gritted teeth. "Phainon—" he ground out, the name strained, nearly a growl.
Phainon shook helplessly, his cock leaking freely onto his stomach.
Mydei's fingers curled into fists as his thrusts turned urgent, more raw. Papers scattered across the floor in every direction. Something toppled off the edge—Phainon vaguely recognized the clatter as the bottle of lube Mydei had placed there earlier.
Heat raced through him, everything building too fast, too intensely, too much.
"I—I can't—" Phainon gasped, overwhelmed.
"You can," Mydei's voice broke through the haze. "You're doing so well."
Phainon felt delirious, his vision blurred, the world narrowing to nothing but Mydei's presence and the relentless drive forward of his hips. At one point he genuinely feared the desk might break.
"The—the desk—" Phainon managed to get out.
"It'll hold," Mydei growled back.
Phainon wasn't convinced, but he didn't want him to stop either.
He tore one hand away from his mouth and reached blindly for his leaking, aching cock. But Mydei caught his wrist mid-movement. His grip was firm, and he guided Phainon's arm upward, pressing his wrist to the desk beside his head. Then he leaned down until his breath rolled hot across Phainon's throat. His mouth found the curve of it, lips dragging over flushed and sensitive skin, and his teeth grazed the spot just beneath his jaw.
For a dazed second, Phainon panicked about smearing cum on Mydei's shirt—streaking the clean fabric with the mess on his chest and stomach—but then Mydei's hand left his pinned wrist and slid down between them.
His fingers wrapped around the base of Phainon's cock and began to stroke.
Phainon broke with a sob, hips bucking as his orgasm tore through him. Mydei leaned back slightly as Phainon came, giving him room to spill over his stomach and chest again and his limbs jerked.
But Mydei didn't stop fucking him.
Another sob burst out of him, then another, but even through the trembling he still tried to rock back into Mydei's thrusts as best as he could, desperate for every inch, desperate to keep Mydei inside him.
Mydei's voice broke as he spoke again. "Titans… Phainon…"
Phainon dragged his arms up around Mydei's shoulders, pulling him down until their chests pressed together again. His fingers curled into the back of Mydei's shirt, gripping tight, desperate for something to hold on to.
"Don't," Phainon's voice cracked, completely wrecked. "Don't stop."
Mydei didn't. He rocked into him a few more times, wringing more noises out of Phainon.
Eventually, his hips snapped forward in a harsh, uncontrollable jerk.
A guttural groan tore from Mydei's throat, his whole body going rigid above Phainon. His breath punched out against Phainon's shoulder, hot and uneven. He spilled inside Phainon in thick, hot bursts, each one a shock of heat that made his overstimulated body clench around him. The sensation stole his breath all over again and a faint stutter tumbled out of him, "My…dei…"
Mydei stayed buried to the hilt, unmoving except for the tremors rippling through him. His forehead dropped to Phainon's shoulder.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Mydei's fingers lifted, brushing lightly along Phainon's cheekbone, wiping away the dampness there with a grounding gentleness utterly at odds with the intensity of moments before.
"You're perfect," he murmured, voice low and warm against Phainon's skin.
Now that the high was fading, Phainon became aware of other things—the cool air prickling across his sweat-damp stomach, the tacky mess between them, the way the desk still dug uncomfortably into his back.
Mydei lifted his head just enough to look at him. "Still with me?" he asked.
Phainon nodded, a quiet hum slipping out, soft and dazed.
Mydei leaned in and pressed a gentle, sweet kiss to his lips. He lingered there for a bit longer before he drew away, rolling his hips back gently. Phainon winced at the tender drag, though he stayed still for him. The glide of it felt endless until the head finally slipped free, and Phainon felt the warm spill of cum slide out with the loss. A gasp tore through him at the sudden emptiness punching through his overstimulated body.
Before the cold could settle in, Mydei reached for the plug he'd set aside earlier on the desk before everything had spiraled into chaos. Phainon's dazed mind registered the absurdity that it had somehow survived the storm of movement around them. Papers had scattered, the lube had fallen, yet the plug remained exactly where Mydei had left it.
He pressed the tip of the plug to Phainon's still-open entrance and eased it in slowly, guiding it until the base settled flush against Phainon's skin and the warmth inside him sealed once more. Phainon whimpered in exhaustion and relief as the fullness returned in a way that felt immediate and perfect.
"That's it," Mydei said, approval threading through every syllable. "You hold everything I give you."
He brushed his fingers through Phainon's damp hair, smoothing it from his forehead.
Then Mydei helped him sit up slowly. Phainon winced, every muscle sore, aching, and trembling.
A warm hand cupped his chin, guiding his gaze upward. "When we get home," he said, "I'll take this out myself. I'm not done with you yet."
Phainon's breath hitched, and he nodded slowly. "Okay…" he whispered.
Mydei steadied him with a hand at his waist, before reaching for Phainon's clothes. Phainon swayed, still dazed, and let Mydei dress him piece by piece. He pulled his own pants up after, smoothing the waistband into place.
Phainon let out a weak laugh when he finally glanced at Mydei's shirt. A wide smear of dried cum stretched across the front, near his chest and collar. Mydei looked completely disheveled—hair mussed, shirt rumpled, sleeves still shoved up, face flushed.
Mydei paused. "…What?"
"Your shirt." Phainon gestured at him weakly, snorting. "You look ridiculous."
Mydei only lifted an eyebrow, unamused and extraordinarily attractive like that.
He tugged Phainon's hoodie down, straightened the fabric, brushed the wrinkles away, and made sure it hung right over him. Phainon tried to ignore the dried mess on his own stomach.
When Mydei finally stepped back, Phainon glanced down at the desk. It had shifted several inches from where it belonged.
Phainon blinked, then started laughing again. "You almost broke your desk."
Mydei made a noncommittal sound.
"Mm," Phainon echoed. "That's all you have to say?"
"It held," Mydei replied.
"Yeah, but I barely did. You nearly killed me."
"You're exaggerating."
"Mydei," Phainon said, pointing at the displaced desk with both hands. "My soul left my body."
Mydei's lips twitched fondly. "You liked it."
Phainon opened his mouth to deny it… and closed it again without saying anything. He dragged a hand down his face, then finally looked around at the floor and the desk properly. The mess hit him all at once.
Scattered papers everywhere—some bent, some folded in on themselves, several torn straight down the middle where his back had arched over them. A few sheets had been ripped by the desk leg when it scraped across the floor. And on some… Phainon recognized some unmistakable smears.
He groaned into both hands. "The paperwork—it's ruined."
Mydei glanced down, entirely unbothered. "They can be reprinted."
Phainon let out another, louder groan.
Mydei was quiet for a moment, then his expression shifted into something apologetic. "I still have work to finish…"
Phainon froze, lowering his hands slowly. "…Now?"
Mydei nodded.
Phainon's shoulders sagged and he pouted in Mydei's face.
Mydei stepped closer, looking suspiciously amused. "Give me thirty minutes to wrap up the important things, and then we'll go home." Then he tilted Phainon's chin up with his fingertip and met his eyes. "Can you be patient for that long?"
Phainon straightened despite his sore muscles and grinned, a little too bright and sharp. "I'll behave."
Mydei held his gaze for a few seconds longer, very clearly not believing him… but he still sighed softly and went to retrieve his laptop from the bookshelf. He carried it back, set it beside Phainon, and sat down.
Mydei typed with a steady focus, slipping into work mode so smoothly it almost irritated Phainon—for no reason other than how unfairly composed he suddenly looked, considering what they'd just done to each other.
Phainon slouched in the chair beside him, eyeing the disaster zone around them. They were going to have to clean all of this. And how were they supposed to walk out looking remotely normal? Mydei still had dried cum streaked across his shirt, for fuck's sake.
Phainon's gaze drifted back to him, and he watched him work for a bit.
"…So," Phainon said casually, "what do you think about cockwarming?"
Mydei froze. Then he inhaled sharply, brought a hand up, and covered his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose with a noise that could only be described as pained resignation.
Phainon blinked innocently. "I'm just saying, it'd work better than the plug—"
"Phainon." Mydei didn't even let him finish. The refusal was immediate, low, and edged with danger.
Phainon's lips curl into a slow, unrepentant grin. "Alright, maybe next time."
Mydei didn't even look up at him. "There won't be a next time in the office."
"You said that last time too."
Mydei just shook his head, though a quiet warmth softened the corner of his mouth, and Phainon couldn't help but notice that he didn't disagree.