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On the golden morning of a random Tuesday afternoon — emphasis on afternoon — Phainon found himself sleepily rubbing his eyes in his blue pajamas on the stone Kremnos Castle staircase. Bumping into a rather sturdy backside with vividly bright red tattoos.
"Ah, Mydei," Phainon had yawned, stretching his arms wide, and then scratching his own bum, "what's for breakfast?"
"Breakfast was over five hours ago. There is no breakfast," Mydei gestured in a shoo-shoo go away hand manner, as he had an open book in one palm. "Do not disturb my reading time."
"You are reading on the staircase?"
"I read where I please. This is my domain, after all. In which you... are over-generously staying in. Perhaps you have stayed too long," there's a bit of a tone there that Phainon cannot decipher.
Phainon pouted, although Mydei cannot see it, as his back is still turned to him.
"But I'm hungries..." he says in a quiet voice. (On purpose.)
"You are a nearly 30 year old man. Don't say 'hungries' when you can clearly walk on over to the kitchen yourself and make your own breakfast. I'm sure the chef wouldn't mind giving you space with one of the stoves. There are over a dozen. Knock yourself out. Preferably with a heavy bag of flour, and then if that doesn't work try knocking yourself out with a pan. But remember, three times is the lucky charm. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to finish this book."
"But the kitchen is so far," Phainon made sure to emphasize and elongate the subtle whine in that word. Phainon smiled, pretending to not know it would agitate the man further. "And I'm hungries."
He physically sees Mydei — giant of a man — deeply sigh and pinch his own nose bridge in frustration. 32 year old Mydei, King of the Castle. Leader of the Kremnoan people. Literally, they were the same height. But inwardly, Mydei always felt taller somehow. Perhaps it was his aura. The overall presence. Or maybe it was the natural born leadership (or was that drilled into him as a child?) Phainon knew much. But also he knew little.
"So breakfast?" he pestered, clearly getting joy from it, if only it ever shown beyond the subtle smirk.
Mydei rolled his eyes in the opposite direction.
"You know what I don't care, fine. If it'll get you to stop bothering me and stop interrupting my duties. Then yes, I'll make you breakfast."
Phainon reeled in his arm towards his side in victory scheme. Running up the stone staircase back to his room to get changed. By the time he was done brushing his hands through his snow-like hair, he finds himself seated at the table. Just the two of them. Fork and knife in hand, licking his lips and all, he smells the morning (afternoon) meal on a steaming plate being set down in front of him by none other than that hunk of a King. He was a meal for the eyes too.
"This looks delicious, Mydei!" Before Phainon could relish in the grin, he tilts his head at an ever so slight angle. "But... no pancakes?"
Mydei's eye twitched.
"No. No pancakes."
"But Mydei—" he was about to whine, but Mydei cut him off.
"No, now eat."
There was a bit of rougher, jagged edge to that tone this time. Almost like a command; an order. A dismissal of the situation, of sorts. Somehow it made Phainon's chest fuzzy. Somehow it made the blood pulse to his crotch for just a single second only. Somehow Phainon obeyed. Digging into his meal slowly with a knife, as the King of the Castle drooped into a chair on the opposite side of the table, kicking his legs up on the surface and began reading from where he left off.
Usually there were table manners to go off of, like for example no feet (armored shoes?) on the table, but it was just the two of them. And well, Mydei is the man of the castle technically. So it's not like Phainon could say anything, and he didn't really want to in the first place. It didn't bother him much. He knew the King and the Castle were practically spotless anyway. So he let the thought go as quickly as it came. The two relaxing into the silence. Mydei flipping a page; Phainon doing a little dance in his chair as he chewed a lot on one side of his mouth, his cheek like a chipmunk's.
"You know," Phainon eventually broke the silence, "I have noticed something."
"What is it now?"
"This breakfast in particular lacks flavor."
"Oh, do tell," Mydei wasn't exactly interested, monotonous and indifferent, as he flipped another page.
"It would appear you have poisoned the meal again, giving it a rather terribly wet aftertaste, and I have never said anything before, though the dosage of poison isn't intriguingly high today. Couldn't kill me if you tried. However, it seems when you make breakfast for the other Chrysos Heirs, theirs contains no poison."
"What an astute analysis, Lord Phainon, you are truly sharper than anticipated," it was sarcasm. Mydei continues, "by this poison you clearly speak of, by any chance, would you mean my spit?"
Phainon choked on his food. It was lodged in his throat. Mydei smiles, glancing up at him.
"What's wrong? Don't like the meal I cooked for you, over a blazing hot stove? How rude."
Lord Phainon is knocking hard at his own chest to get the food out, and it finally does after several tries, gasping for air.
Now Phainon is wiping a tear, not because he's actually crying, but because of the surprise catching him off guard and stifling him of sparable air, resulting in his eyes watering.
"I am always grateful for the hospitality, truly."
"Oh? Doesn't seem like it. Why don't you tell me instead what your heart desires. Is my recipe off the mark? Was it not to your satisfaction, Lord Phainon? How can I simply break my back for you, to make it all better? Please do let me know."
"Well, you see, maybe the spit wouldn't be noticeable if the meal was sweet," he jabs.
"Ah. I see now. Pancakes. That's it, now, right? You wanted pancakes. My apologies, Lord Phainon. Let me go get that for you."
Mydei sets his book down on the table calmly. No anger whatsover. Which was strange and unsettling, but that's usually how he always is. It was their push and pull. Their average golden morning-not-so-morning afternoon. Mydei returns. Placing a clear-glass bottle with a handle right at the center of the table. Within the container contains a brown sugary liquid.
"Here you go, Lord Phainon. Perfect for that sweet tooth of yours," it's playful yet snarky. That's more like Mydei. "Oh, but my apologies. It would seem we have run out of pancakes for the day. Not much can be done about it," Mydei casually shrugs without a care, returning to his seat. "Enjoy."
It is a bit disappointing that there is no pancake to go with this syrup. But alas, Phainon supposes it's better than nothing. He reaches out for the glass syrup handle. But Mydei takes it before he can even touch it.
"I was being sarcastic. Were you really going to gargle down an entire glass container of syrup?"
"I can gargle a lot of things. Water, orange juice, that new fizzy pop that goes flying off the shelves these days," Phainon shrugs, "what's the bother?"
"It's nothing but dissolved sugars."
Phainon looks at him blankly.
Mydei sighs deeply.
"It holds literally zero nutritional value. Honestly, where were you raised? Did they teach you nothing?"
"Who cares, it's just syrup."
"It'll make you sleepy and groggy and tired all day. You're supposed to be a Golden Successor — the prophecized Chrysos Heir!"
"Did the prophecy say no syrup?"
Mydei stares at him, and then Mydei calmly closes his own eyes and counts to ten in his head.
"Just hand over the syrup, and nobody gets hurt."
"Was that a threat?"
"Barely. I'm just desperate. Come on," Phainon does that signature cute whine again. "What do I have to do in order to get some syrup around here? Beg? If I have to, I'll do it. I have no shame, you know."
"I know." Mydei deeply sighs. "Don't do that."
"I'm doing it." Phainon scoots out of his chair and gets on all fours, begging. "Please hand over the syrup."
"Cut it out already. Stand up."
Phainon bows his head to the floor.
"Syrup, please."
"No."
Phainon crawls under the table like the gremlin he is, passing the table cloth which is long enough to cover the floor, and is now clinging to Mydei's leg underneath the table. Begging for it.
Mydei simply rolls his eyes, as this is not out of the ordinary for Phainon. Although, he's questioning if Lord Phainon is an appropriate title for such a pathetic display as it is.
"You are embarras—" he couldn't even insult Phainon.
Mydei's breath hitching and the sudden hand movement on his thigh. Too close, he thinks. But that Lord Phainon, continuously utters begging words underneath the table. If anyone were to come in right now, surely the scene would be questionable.
"Okay, okay, enough—"
The King's face flushes red, as Phainon's is begging into his thigh.
"Fine, fine here take your stupid syrup." Mydei hands it to him under the table. Phainon celebrates underneath there, until suddenly Phainon stops talking.
It's a little too quiet now.
"King Mydei... are you, perhaps...?" Phainon pauses. "Turned on?"
Mydei's facepalming. His dick must be a little hard right now, from the earlier stimulation around the area.
As Phainon is sitting there underneath the table, he gulps, nervously. Staring at... well, it. Mydei's cock.
All this talk about food. But really, Phainon was hungry for something else.
Mydei sighs. Reaching under the table and grabbing the syrup back again from Phainon's hands. Mydei unzips his pants, whipping out his cock.
"Here, we don't have pancakes. But this should surely substitute. Go on then, we don't have all day."
Phainon is underneath the table with his eyes widened so big.
"K—King Mydei—"
Just as he uttered the name, he watches as King Mydei generously pours syrup over his cock. Glazed and alluring, drenched in such sticky and thick liquid.
Phainon inhales sharply. As Mydei's legs are planted firmly on the cobblestone ground underneath the table, the long table cloth hiding his lower region just where the waistline remain. Phainon was drooling and didn't even realize it, as he wipes the drool away with an arm. Phainon shuffles slowly over again, nervously opening his mouth and taking in King Mydei's tip.
Oh, the flavor is indeed nice, Phainon thinks, as his eyelashes flutter. It's slippery too. He tries to have a firm grip by placing both his hands around the base of Mydei's cock, which only seems to grow more upon further stimulation. The syrup is almost like lube, really, passing through Phainon's mouth easily. His lips suctioning — or rather sliding — around the syrup.
"You'll need to finish every last drop," Mydei suggests, his face twisting in pleasure as he focuses in on the bliss, "we don't want to leave the area messy."
"Mhm," Phainon didn't speak but hummed it instead.
The small but affirming vibrations making the two men feel safer with each other. Like it was their own secret, only they could tell. It was as if Phainon humming around his cock was not only sensually arousing, but also oddly emotionally supportive. As if Phainon had his back on this.
One of the chefs suddenly walks in the room, and Mydei scurries to pick up the book on the page where he left off. Pretending to read, and his expression must have stone-cold serious too, as it seemed to work. The chef carrying leftover plates onto his arms expertly and walking back out of the room.
Phainon had seen the chef's silhouette behind the table cloth, luckily the fabric had been long and large enough to cover the perimeter of the table and enough to hide Phainon.
The suddenness of the situation seemed to excite the King, he notices, as Mydei's cock pulsed inside Phainon's mouth, having become fully erect. He can't even comprehend just how good this must feel for Mydei.
The problem, however, is the syrup itself. Seemingly a blessing, it's also quite a nuisance. No matter how much and how hard Phainon sucks with such intensity, obscene noises and twists and jerks of his hands, the syrup's thickness was impossible to lap up entirely with his swirling tongue. Even if he licked it clean with the flat of his tongue, the stickiness of the syrup on Mydei's cock remained. It was just so, soo messy. It's going to take forever for Phainon to clean this up.
Even Phainon's lips had become sticky, he licked it off to no help or benefit. Sugary sticky lips. Heavy breaths and heat on King Mydei's crotch.
Mydei was sweating.
And he could even feel trickles of syrup leak down to his balls. Phainon fondled them in his hand, like if he was cupping them. Jacking off Mydei's shaft with the other, and full on sinking his head deeply on the man. Nose touching pelvis. Phainon gagged as it touched the back of his throat, and he pulled off quickly gasping for air. Phainon's chest heaved so visibly, going back down for more.
Mydei began white-knuckling the edge of the table so hard. Trying to not crack. Trying to not explode, as a butler came into the room to ask Mydei if he needed anything.
The King calmly smiled in a friendly manner and shook his head that he was fine, and Mydei pressed his hand on Phainon's soft hair, to make sure he didn't make any noise. The butler nodded and slowly walked out the room.
He couldn't read. He couldn't read the book at all in front of him.
Phainon was such a huge distraction. A tempting, seductive distraction.
All at once.
All-encompassing.
And on his cock...
Mydei exploded inside Phainon's mouth. The man on his crotch swallowing it like a champ greedily. And Mydei's jaw dropped. He began seeing constellations and a white light. As Phainon was sucking the living soul out of him. Mydei died in that moment, and then revived, he had to of, as his orgasm spread throughout his entire body. Draining him of energy. Draining his soul out.
Phainon had to be an incubus as described in the holy texts.
Surely that was it.
A walking sex demon.
Phainon bobbed his head up and down. He wasn't finished. He wasn't finished at all. Not satisfied until that cock was squeaky clean. And it would not be clean, not for another two hours.
The two plopped onto Phainon's mattress, in the tiny room the King had kindly gave him a while back, their sugar sticky lips meshing and completing and pulling and meshing again. Mixed with spit and magic. Mydei was caging him on the bed, Phainon's backside on the covers but his heaving chest tempting Mydei. Mydei grew furious, ripping Phainon's shirt off with his bare hands and diving in to suck on Phainon's nipples. Phainon moaned, seemingly pressing Mydei's face harder onto the sensitive and erect buds. The wooden bed squeaked, as Phainon had been bent in half and was being plowed by King Mydei's massive cock. Over and over. The squeaking becoming faster. The headboard banging on the wall becoming more erratic, growing in strength.
Until hot cum poured into Phainon, filling him to the rim.
Their energy totally spent, and Mydei having collapsed next to him. Phainon laughed, breathless, his palm on Mydei's chest, kissing those sweet lips before knocking out himself.
When morning came, Phainon woke up to piercing eyes staring right at him. He blushed.
"Good morning..." he says slowly.
"Morning........" it was awkward.
But kind of nice.
The bed was small. Too small. Yet it was enough to fit these two men. Who basically drenched the sheets in sweat and cum. They were naked.
They were naked.
Somehow that thought barely internalized, and they both were flush pink on their cheeks.
"I thought you hated me," Phainon confesses.
"Hate you?" Mydei stares blankly, in disbelief. He reaches out a delayed beat later, hesitant, but ultimately wraps his arm around Phainon. The two now on their sides and staring into each other's eyes earnestly. "I cook you breakfast every day."
"You do that for the other Chrysos Heirs too though?"
"Not every day. Only when I manage to see them once in a blue moon. I don't cook them lunch and dinner. Even if you do get on my nerves and I spit in your food, it's only because you're obnoxiously irritating sometimes, and also because you say stupid things."
"Sometimes," Phainon was touched as he repeated the word. It was almost like a compliment.
"You're literally staying in my castle. My castle," Mydei repeats. "Free of charge, too. No rent. Nothing of the sort. Your own room. I don't even make you work, although honestly maybe you should, but you thought I hated you?"
"Well when you put it like that— oh."
Mydei squeezed Phainon's ass abruptly, a firm spank resonating through the room loudly. Mydei growled closely in Phainon's ear, and the blood was rushing to Phainon's cock.
"If I hated you, then why do I want you so badly right now."
Phainon smirked, rolling on top of the other man and pinning Mydei helplessly to the mattress.
"Fine, but I'm going to ride you. And I'm going to show you one hell of a time, and we might break this stupid frail bed."
"Hard and fast."
"Wouldn't want it any other way right now."
Mydei grinned cheekily, "Deal."