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"Cas."
"Good morning, Phainon. Are you not on duty today?"
Phainon catches up to her as they walk down the hallway. Being the president of the student council means having to run himself ragged before and after class on most days, but he's figured out a few ways to escape the load.
"I traded with Hyacine. You're my best friend, right? You'll be honest with me?"
Castorice frowns at him in suspicion, her hands clasped behind her as she tilts her head at him. "Of course—but why are you asking that? What do I have to be honest about?"
"I'm not saying that you're not! I just need to know something!"
"Oh? What is it?" Castorice asks, her eyes now lighting in curiosity.
Phainon doesn't care much about the eyes of others. He's used to it, with all the roles he's picked up over the years in this school. He likes chatting with his classmates, and being recognised is not unusual at all.
But—
"Why has everyone been looking at me weird today?" Phainon cries out. "Is it my hair? My clothes? I swear Aglaea picked them out the last time you guys came over to my place! Did something happen that everyone but me seems to know of?"
He's rambling like a lunatic. Whatever. He's got bigger fish to fry.
Castorice blinks at him once, twice. Then, for reasons that seem to evade Phainon and only Phainon, she flushes a deep red, turning her face away from him quickly.
"You're not helping, Cas!"
"I'm sorry," she chokes out, "but I think it's something that you should just… see for yourself."
Phainon throws his arms into the air. "It would be more helpful if someone told me what I'm supposed to see!"
Castorice flounders, scrambling for words as she tries to meet Phainon's eyes and failing terribly. He'd feel bad about making her uncomfortable, but seriously! He cannot stand this for a second longer!
"It's something about Mydei," she quickly spits out, "so you should go find him yourself. I'll, uhm, head to class now. See you at lunch, Phainon!"
She disappears quicker than Professor Anaxagoras when he's hit with a spark of inspiration, rushing down the hallway at a terrifying speed. Phainon stares after her, his worry turning into confusion as he heads to his own classroom.
Rumours spread fast. That's little surprise in a high school, because gossip is king in the world they've built here. Information is vital to keep up with everyone else.
Rumours spread faster, when it concerns one Mydeimos. The Mydei he spends most of his time with, the Mydei who has countless admirers who don't dare approach him, due to his usual stoicism.
Most of the time, these rumours hold no weight, and Phainon will be the one that shuts it down when he deems it necessary—even if Mydei tells him not to bother with it. He does whatever he can to support Mydei, because he knows Mydei the best, and knows that the negative comments are unjust.
So, the fact that there's something about Mydei that he doesn't know is eating away at him. He rushes to class through the morning crowd of the hallway, waving away the brief greetings he receives with a weak smile.
He knows that Mydei always arrives to class fifteen minutes before he does, already in the seat beside his and chatting with Cipher or Castorice who stole his seat. Phainon enters his classroom with his bag slung on one shoulder, his eyes immediately zeroing in on Mydei's seat.
People crowding around someone's table isn't uncommon. But it's a rarity for Mydei, who usually avoids the clamour of crowds due to the noise. The most he accepts is the girls they usually hang out with dropping by before their own classes start.
There are a few girls standing around his table, leaning in and gushing over each other. Girls he's sure Mydei is unfamiliar with, despite them being in their class. Phainon frowns at that, his steps quickening as he heads for his seat.
Cipher is there, unsurprisingly, smirking like the cat who's got the cream. She lights up as soon as she sees Phainon approaching, her grin growing wider as she beckons him closer. Definitely not terrifying. Phainon doesn't consider turning back and faking an illness to get out of school.
"Ooh, Phainon! You're going to want to see this!"
That just means Phainon should not entertain whatever "this" is supposed to be. He is fully aware of that, and would very much like to escape whatever situation that seems to be unfolding in front of him.
Alas, this is his classroom and Cipher is in his seat. Not much he can do here.
"Good morning, Cipher. Class is about to start, should you be off now?" Phainon greets, shooting a glance at the table beside them. She's a year above most of them, but she's always sneaking out of class to match their schedules.
"Sorry, Mister President! I'll be there on time, I promise! I just need you to take a good look at this!"
"I don't want to know what 'this' is," Phainon decides. "I don't think I'll take a look at all."
Cipher slips out of his seat as quick as lightning, winking at him while pointing her fingers in Mydei's direction.
"Oh? Do you think you'll be able to not acknowledge Mydei the whole day, then?"
Phainon stares at her. The prickle of fear sends goosebumps up his arms; he can't help but think that turning to look at Mydei would be losing to her.
"Go back to class, Cipher."
She pouts and frowns, scampering to Mydei's side and saying, "Mydei! Hey, if you want clothing recommendations, you should go to Mnestia's Wardrobe! The dressmaster there is great with fabrics and colours!"
"Promoting Aglaea's store even now? Yet you told her that you didn't care about her workshop during your rants." Phainon hears Mydei's voice, amusement seeping into his gruff tone. "Sorry, we can talk about it some other time."
"How sweet! You should be thanking me, I'm helping you reach Mister President's level of popularity out here!" Cipher says as they disperse, still positioned between Phainon and Mydei.
Most might argue that Mydei has no issues with popularity, and Mydei himself would argue that he doesn't care for said popularity. Rather than arguing about it with Cipher, he sighs and slumps over on his desk, muttering into his arm, "Just get over what you've been intending for ever since you made me do this."
There's that feeling again. Trepidation. Phainon's pretty sure that there are people staring at him, but he does not dare to look at anyone's direction but Cipher's—just for his own sanity.
"Ta-da! Doesn't the little lion look great in this?" Cipher hops to the side, getting out of Phainon's view and leaning against his desk.
A deranged part of Phainon wants to say Mydei always looks great—he might have said it out loud, if he weren't completely stunned by what he sees next.
Thighs. It's the first thing that comes to his mind. Probably the last thing too, considering that he cannot form another coherent thought besides Mydei's thighs.
Okay, that's kind of a lie. Because Phainon's eyes flit to the reason that said thighs were exposed, and his brain breaks again.
Mydei is wearing a skirt. The kind that's with the uniform for girls, except it's much shorter than it should be, considering that the uniform keeps the length just above the knees, shielding enough thigh to not kill Phainon on the spot. The pleated skirt and loose socks and black loafers—clothing that he could never even imagine Mydei wearing, adorning those long, bare legs like a picture frame.
He's still staring at those thick thighs, watching them flex as Mydei crosses his leg over the other. This can't be legal. This has to be a weapon of mass destruction, because exposing those muscular thighs could kill half the population. It's not even fair—Mydei is a fitness junkie who hits the gym five times a day, has thighs larger than a person's head, and he looks good in a miniskirt that could give Phainon a glimpse of ass if he bends over the wrong way.
Fuck. Phainon is not a man who thinks with his dick. It's not even his fault; Mydei has ruined him once again.
"…Do you think he's still alive?"
"Goodbye, Cifera."
"I need him to say something, at least—!"
Phainon is going to die. He can only hope that Mydei would do him one last favour and take him out between his thighs.
"How— Why—" Phainon gapes. His eyes have not left Mydei's thighs. "Why."
That's all he manages to say. Well done, president of the student council.
Cipher bursts out laughing, her shoulders shaking as she tries to cover her mouth. Phainon isn't sure why she bothers, since everyone is already looking in their direction. He's totally screwed.
Mydei sighs, still not facing Phainon. "I lost a bet against her."
"That ended up with you wearing a…"
"A skirt, yes." Mydei rolls his eyes as he glares at Phainon, crossing his arms under his clearly endowed chest in his blouse beneath the blazer.
That's the other thing about his new outfit. It imitates their school uniform, but the material seems different from the ones provided by the school. Phainon has a poor eye for aesthetics, as pointed out by Aglaea multiple times, but he can tell that the fabric doesn't fold as well on the usual uniform.
Cipher chimes in, "Aglaea made them for him, since he doesn't fit the sizes that the school offers. Honestly, I think we should get her to make more skirts for you!"
Phainon heavily disagrees with that thought, for the sake of his dick. He sees Mydei frown, fiddling with the hem of his skirt as he says, "I don't want to make more work for her. Her business has been getting really popular lately."
"Why is that your first response?" Phainon cries out.
Mydei raises an eyebrow. "You don't care about Aglaea's workload? That's a little cruel of you."
"Not what I meant."
Cipher pats Phainon on the head with a chuckle. "Oh, we all know what you—"
The front door swings open, and Cipher freezes up like a deer in headlights. Before the teacher could step into the classroom, she makes a dash for the back door without a farewell.
"…She didn't finish her sentence," Mydei says conversationally.
Phainon sighs, dropping his head onto the desk. He needs the ground to swallow him whole.
His thing with Mydei involves spending homeroom together, and meeting up for lunch and occasionally the gym after class. It started from the first time they met at the gym—no, the first time Phainon noticed Mydei, who despite being in his class, hides in the back where no one thinks to disturb him.
It's the competitiveness that drew him in, the sight of Mydei's strength that gave him a bar to reach, to overtake. Phainon admires Mydei, and sees him as a close friend.
Okay, he's not exactly validating his own point here. It's not Phainon's fault that Mydei decided that he should come to school dressed in a short skirt and make Phainon feel things that he shouldn't in the middle of class. He can't focus on anything else other than the thought of Mydei's thighs pressed against the chair, and wondering how it would feel to have them in his lap.
He wants to put his hands on them, feeling them up under his skirt to examine the muscles beneath his fingertips. Mydei would pretend to be annoyed, but he lets Phainon do whatever he wants, because he's as competitive as Phainon is, even if he doesn't show it.
The excuse of comparing progress to grope Mydei's muscles worked a few times, but he's starting to think Mydei is catching up to it. Therefore, he settled with imagining those thighs sadly, wondering how they'd flex and bulge when Mydei crouches for his deadlifts.
Fuck. He's meant to hit the gym with Mydei later today.
Mydei and his damned skirt. Phainon's dick is not getting a break today.
The bell finally rings; Phainon leaves the classroom at the speed of light, weaving past the tables and students with a single goal in mind. He's pretty sure his reputation is going to take a hit from his poorly hidden perversion, but Phainon has better things to think about at the moment. Like Mydei's thighs. Definitely Mydei's thighs.
He's still in that wonderful daydream when Castorice catches him. "Hello, Phainon. I'd ask if you're doing alright, but…"
"You could have given me some kind of warning before I stepped into my doom!" Phainon cries out, pushing his hands against his face. "I look like a fool!"
"I heard about that from an upperclassman…" Castorice mutters, averting her eyes.
Great. The whole school knows he's mindlessly lusting after Mydei. Everyone but Mydei himself, apparently.
They enter the dining hall quickly to beat the crowd, only to see a large number of students already there. Nothing unusual, considering the time. The unusual part is people standing around, looking in one direction.
Like a completely normal person, Phainon decides to follow their gaze.
Of course, it's Mydei who's the catalyst for all the peculiarity. It's no surprise that the skirt draws the attention of everyone in the vicinity, capturing their gaze like a magnet. Cipher and Hyacine are with him, giggling and tugging at Mydei's arm as they take their seats.
His skirt rides up a fraction of an inch as he raises his leg to sit on the bench. If he leans forward a little more…
"You're staring again, Phainon."
Phainon spins to Castorice with a groan, waving her away as she laughs. "It looks like everyone is! Why is it a problem when I do it?"
"So you don't have a problem with other people staring?" Castorice asks.
Phainon shudders, agitation growing in him at the thought. No one else should be staring at Mydei, not when they don't know how to appreciate the other aspects of Mydei. If they aren't looking at him when he's sweaty and flushed in a tank top or soft and cute in a sweater, they shouldn't be looking at him now.
He chooses not to say that, because Castorice is looking at him with that glint in her eyes that he should definitely avoid entertaining, and Hyacine is waving at them as soon as she sees them approaching.
"I was wondering, Phainon," Cipher says as Phainon and Castorice sit across them, "does this violate any code of conduct for our school? I mean, the girl's attire is one thing, but I figured the length of the skirt would be an issue."
"You set me up," Mydei complains, before shoving a sandwich into his mouth.
Hyacine pushes over their share of food, sipping at her tea as she scrolls on her phone. "But none of the teachers called you out today, right? I guess it might have been an awkward thing to bring up. Maybe you should try wearing a crop top next."
Phainon wants nothing to do with this conversation. He does not imagine Mydei in a crop top, because he is not a salacious deviant who will take any opportunity to lust over his good friend.
That's what he tells himself, as he wonders how it would feel like to be on his knees under Mydei's skirt. Maybe he's wearing panties…
Phainon gets a kick to the ankle as he ponders that thought, his eyes flicking up to an unimpressed Cipher. Caught with his pants down.
"Why are you asking me?"
Cipher shakes her head, clicking her tongue. "Who else would we ask? Aren't you supposed to be 'the face of the student body' or something?"
"That has nothing to do with me knowing how the teachers judge attire," he replies. "None of this has anything to do with me at all. Please leave me alone."
"Have you mentally checked out already?" Castorice chuckles, poking her straw into the carton of juice.
Mydei doesn't say a word, despite Phainon's generational fumble. He lets a sigh and chews on the straw, his eyes drifting from Castorice to the whispers a few tables away from them.
"When can I get out of these clothes? People keep stopping me to talk or stare at me, it's starting to piss me off."
Cipher tuts, patting Mydei on the back. "Now, now. We agreed to the entire day, didn't we?"
"I didn't say shit. I don't even remember agreeing to this bet."
"Yet, here we are!" Cipher claps excitedly, leaning against his arm. "I knew you liked the skirt! You should wear it more often! Preferably when we're hanging out at Hyacine or Phainon's place!"
Turns out, Cipher does not know the meaning of "leave me alone". It's either that, or she hates Phainon's guts, which is becoming an increasingly plausible option.
The mere thought of Mydei in a tiny skirt on his couch makes his heart want to combust. If he could sneak a peek underneath that folded fabric…
"I'd rather not. The president here has barely said a full sentence to me today."
That breaks Phainon out of his daze, glaring indignantly at Mydei when he has no right to. "What do you mean? I've spoken to you plenty enough today!"
"You stuttered every time. And you've never met my eyes."
A bathroom break seems right about now. Preferably a long one, under the sink, where he can wash away his sins. But the look on Cipher's face tells him that he'll be painted as a pervert with a degradation kink the minute he leaves, which is somehow worse than sitting in shame in front of the person he's imagining bent over and stripped bare.
Okay, not as much shame as he was hoping to go for. Phainon is digging his own grave.
"I'm meeting your eyes right now," Phainon says. He's kind of struggling to keep that eye contact, actually. Mydei is making the most judgemental frown possible.
"You were looking at my legs the entirety of the first period."
Perhaps the bathroom break might be worth the humiliation. "I don't think that was necessary to mention. I think I preferred when you were reluctant to talk about this."
"I meant that I was reluctant to talk to other people about this. You're the one making it weird—why would I ever be against talking to you?"
The worst part about this having this conversation in front of the rest of their friends. Phainon's getting blackmailed for a good few months, and the worst Mydei will receive is another set of clothing from Aglaea that will send blood straight to Phainon's dick—which, really, is just another way to torment Phainon. It just keeps coming.
Phainon shuts his eyes and throws in the towel, dropping his head onto the table. He's praying that someone drives a knife straight into his back and put him out of his misery, as he hears Cipher's snicker.
"You broke him. This is some great stuff, Mydei!"
"Please don't make a skirt sound like a substance."
It's starting to feel like a drug—Phainon can't get his mind off the sight of Mydei's thighs, the way they flex, the way the skirt flutters around it delicately, despite the lack of softness from Mydei himself.
It's official. He's going to die. He can only hope that his gravestone does not record this harrowing occasion.
"Ah," Castorice says, "Cipher and I had a bet. Mydei, there's something we need to know."
"What is it now?"
"Give us the exact time Phainon was visibly turned on. Right down to the minute."
Phainon gets up and takes his leave. Certain problems should be left for another day.
("I'm not wearing a skirt to school. You didn't say it would be on a school day."
"It's a school skirt, little lion. Besides, don't you want to see Mister Perfect stumbling over himself just looking at you?"
"He does that already," Mydei says, while watching Aglaea cut through fabric. He still doesn't know why she's entertaining their childish whims.
"In the middle of class?"
Mydei sighs. His fate is sealed.)