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“But I don’t want lamb for dinner, we had that yesterday.”
The wheat fields flutter in a rhythmic sound, something eerie of home and longing. The small voices of children returning from their adventures in the forest; parents chastising them for their lateness. A young boy with white hair and expectant eyes walks down the brick road, his small hand holding his mothers.
Audata peers down to her son, “Hm? I didn’t say anything?”
Phainon met her gaze with equal confusion, “but you were saying you forgot to prep the seasonings… And that we could borrow some meat from Milimem.”
The mother’s face contorted into one of discomfort, and after a beat, she responds; “it seems that my thoughts are just extra loud today.” She returns to her comforting smile, “if you so wish, we can have something else for dinner.”
The child hopped in the air, his arm swinging their interlocked hands, “hooray! Then can Cyrene come over? She promised to show me how to make a pie and I really,” he drawls out, “really wanna know how to bake.”
Audata laughed, “of course, my love.”
—
Such insignificant occurrences happened so often that the village began a small rumor of Phainon’s intuition: “he just always knows what we are thinking! Are we that easy to read?” Phainon himself seemed perplexed by his own actions, after all, it wasn't just a guess – he swears he can hear truly what they are thinking. It’s usually always something passive, like ‘what am I going to do for lunch?’ or ‘I wonder if their expedition is going smoothly:” Mundane thoughts that flow through the air like a dandelion seed.
It wasn't until Phainon reached fifteen where he began to thoroughly question his… Ability. He was eager to leave the village to train in Castrum Kremnos, and as he hugged a farewell to Cyrene; he stopped.
‘I truly pray this cycle is one of difference. Please Phainon, keep persevering.’
Phainon widened his eyes and shifted them to look at the back of the girl's hair. Before he was even able to question her remark, the hug breaks.
“Make sure to visit, okay?” Such a blissful and honest grin frames her face.
His voice dies in his throat and he feels the burning behind his eyes. Before she could make fun of his tears, he smiles - a smile so wide it hurts - and laughs. “Of course, this is my home afterall.”
—
The moment he left the village, the thoughts became loud. They became vile and aggressive; such disdain for the world and its possessions. Perhaps it was just the different environment, but Phainon couldn't shake off the unease that so many of the soldiers bear.
Phainon raises his wooden sword and clashes it with his opponents: frankly the dude never told Phainon his name and he’s thankful for it – this guy is awful.
‘Pathetic. Such a weak strike… of course he’s from Aedes Elysiae.’ The stranger mentally quips as their shoulders brush each other. Phainon bites his tongue and swings again. This time, the weapon digs into the ribs of the other. The force of the hit causes the man to cough and follows with a kneel to catch his breath. Phainon hears his mothers voice drill in his head; be kind be kind be kind.
He sighs.
What is he if not a mama's boy? He couldn't disappoint her. So with a huff and swallow of anger, he outreaches a hand.
The stranger glares daggers at the offer, slapping it away.
‘Fuck off.’
—
“Lady Aglaea, are you busy?” Years have long passed since his training and yet the burning question has never been answered.
Aglaea’s apathetic eyes peer to Phainon, her hair flowing with the turn of her body. The demi-god smiles; “I can spare a moment. How can I assist you?”
Phainon still becomes incredibly nervous in front of the Goldweaver – he firmly believes he will never outgrow the awe (and honest fear) of the aura Aglaea emits. He brings a hand to the back of his head, adjusting his stance to lean more weight on his left leg. “It's…” He slides his hand down his neck, breaking eye contact, “it’s more of a personal issue, if that is okay.”
Aglaea seems intrigued, “oh?” She thinks a moment. “Here, let's sit somewhere more relaxed.”
It only takes a moment to sit somewhere recluse, and with another deep breath he straightens himself and begins. “I think I can read minds.”
The demi-gods expression widens ever-so-slightly but quickly morphs to doubt.
“I know, it sounds like some sort of fantasy book-” Phainon rushes, “but I swear, something is off. It’s always happened, ever since I was a little kid. I noticed it only happens when I touch the person, and then I immediately hear their thoughts. It’s ludicrous and so invasive – I hate it.” he deflates, “I hate feeling the burden of hearing someone's last thoughts.” He mumbles.
Aglaea takes a moment to think.
“...I just want to know, well, if you know anything about this curse.” Phainon finishes.
The Goldenweaver closes her eyes, then opens. She outstretched her hand, two fingers twitching in a small beckoning motion. Phainon hesitates, but eventually raises his own hand to lie in her palm.
‘Perhaps instead of a curse, it is a mere blessing from the Titans,’ she muses.
“A blessing?”
Aglaea just smiles, thrilled Phainon is speaking the truth. ‘It is beyond unfortunate that the human mind can cloud rationality with despair, but I know you, Phainon. This is merely a test that I know you will surpass in.’ She reels her hand back to her side, even huffing a laugh. “It seems Mnestia blessed you with a power she yearns for humanity to grasp. To form a connection on nothing but vulnerability. Who knows, maybe you will find the person to finally quiet those thoughts.”
—
Aglaea was the first of the heirs to become aware of his unnatural ‘powers’. Though never bringing it up in conversation herself, she had always found a way to incorporate it in certain situations. Once after a heated argument with Anaxa and her, she had looked at Phainon, and with the glare of her eyes, he understood.
With a practiced sympathetic pat on the shoulder, Phainon's brain was immediately racked with a slur of curses and anger. He shot his hand back as if burned and stared at Aglaea with a dejected (in Aglaea's view, a kicked puppy) look. She sighed and waved him off. Anaxa found him later and gave him a long, over explanatory, lecture about personal space.
Speaking of, it's no surprise Anaxa eventually connected the dots. Phainon still isn't sure exactly when his Professor had figured it out, and even after asking, Anaxa gave him a confusing response.
“Your heart of compassion gives many leeway’s to how you truly think,”
Phainon blinked. “Um. What?”
Anaxa had the audacity to look annoyed, but explained further anyway. “Your eyes can't hide how you feel. I’ve seen you. Holding the hand of many in their last moments, your face is mixed with sympathy but also one of cringe. Seeing someone’s vivid memories of their life flashing before their eyes must be a lot, no?”
He’s not wrong, Phainon ponders. Everyone deserves comfort in their last moments and as his job as the Deliverer, he doesn't mind being that pillar. That said, he hated hearing the acknowledgement that others can see his discomfort. What was it that Hyacine said? He wears his heart on his sleeve?
“Its… definitely not enjoyable.” Phainon responds, shaking his head. “But, it’s not about me.”
Anaxa looked serious for a moment. “Hm. It never is, is it?” He walks away.
…What the hell is that supposed to mean?
Trianne, Trinnon, and Tribbie were the next few to find out (all at once, not surprisingly.) They found out in a more lighthearted way, per Phainon's part. Some shopkeepers were giving the girls trouble, to the point even bystanders were becoming uncomfortable. Phainon had approached the commotion and gingerly placed his hand on the owner, stopping the man from throwing an object in anger.
‘I can’t do it anymore. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.’ The man’s inner voice repeated, words harsh and broken. ‘I’m so tired, these stupid Gods can’t do anything. I hate them, I despise them. Why can’t they fix this?’
Ah. A classic case of projecting his problems on a higher figure to avoid taking accountability about his own issues. Phainon remembers this man, he thinks he saw him arguing with Hyacine once. Something about her failing to save his kid? How harsh…
Now, he doesn't necessarily blame the civilian, it is his (and all the heirs) collective duty to protect Amphoreus. He can absolutely see his perspective – but to unleash your anger out on Tribios?
“Now Sir,” Phainon begins. The man begins to fight back, attempting to reel his arm and wiggle it out of the other's grip. Peering at the onlookers, Phainon notices young children amidst the crowd. Sighing slightly, Phainon adjusts his hand to grab the others pinky and arranges the appendage to push the nail into the stranger's own palm. While the man starts to grunt and slump in pain, the Deliverer continues, “I understand you are having difficulties in your own life, and I am truly sorry we haven't been by your side as we should. But please, this is no way to act. Especially in front of a crowd.”
The man, now knowing his disadvantage, glares daggers at the crowd. Some look away, as if they weren't dropping on the commotion the whole time and some could care less, even laughing at the shopkeeper’s pathetic state.
“Aw, come on, Snowy. It’s okay! You can let him go now,” Tribbie says.
“He just had a bad day, it's understandable.” Trinnon adds, following her counterpart.
With the permission of the heir(s), Phainon releases his hand and watches the man scamper away. The crowd soon dispelled, quickly bored of the lack of entertainment. He turns his attention back to Tribios. “Are you all alright?” Phainon can’t help but ask.
Tribbie smiles, “We are more than okay! He didn't do anything to us.” The other two nod in agreement. “What are you doing here, though?”
“Well…” Phainon really didn't want to tell them that he had embarrassingly lost a sparring match against Mydei. Instead of being a man and asking for another round or even just laughing it off, he sulked away. (This is the third loss in the row, damn it! He can still hear Mydei’s cackle in the distance…) “I was just in the area.”
Tribbie just laughs. “Then, thank you for helping! Though,” she looks at the other two, as if seeking approval or confirmation. “It seemed you knew him personally. Did something happen?”
“Ah, no. He just looked familiar.” Which, granted, isn't a lie.
“Hm…” All three unanimously whispered. “Are you sure?”
“Yes?”
“Huh… It just seemed like you read his mind or something.” Her tone turned accusatory, but all the while, maintaining its childish glee.
In the miniscule fraction to respond, Phainon's face said enough, or rather, supposedly it did.
The girls just laughed, and bid farewell.
—
Months and months begin to pass. The battlefield became more hectic, to the point Phainon couldn’t even remember the last time he saw even three Chrysos Heirs together at once. With just virtual messages being passed, Phainon hadn't interacted with others that often. At least with skin to skin contact.
It wasn't until some latent morning, Phainon allowed his body to rest along a cliff side. Granting his mind and soul a moment of peace. Of course with the exterior silence, inner monologues begin. Aglaea, Anaxa, Tribios, Cipher – who found out somehow… Aglaea, perhaps?… And who else? At this point, he can only assume Cerydra, and by proxy, Hysilens figured it out too with how many connections she manages to have. He’s quite surprised he hasn't gotten a personal letter requesting assistance with some lawyer-ey related things. Finding the truth in the lie, or something like that.
It's not that he necessarily doesn't care that they are aware of his supernatural powers; it is a little unnerving. Especially because they never bring it up after the initial finding. Perhaps they are afraid to cross a boundary?
He can’t help but smile, imagining the other’s reactions to this phenomenon. He knows his friends wouldn’t view him as some monster, at least in that sense. Mydei’s anger would leave him on the floor – of course he had (and has!) read the crowned prince’s mind as a one up in an argument. Why? It's funny. Hyacine would probably just laugh, though undoubtedly be fascinated, and Castorice would most likely ponder how it is possible. Her curiosity is such an endearing trait.
Maybe today would be one great for reminiscing.
…
BANG! CLASH!
He spoke too soon.
Phainon freezes from the reverberation of a horrendous impact against the ground, clearly it was a distance away but even then, what in the world was it? The terrain briefly broke underneath him, small cracks within the already ruined landscape. With a frantic search around, he notices a gulf of smoke miles away. Even running, it would take him a good hour to reach.
Well. Nothing will get done if he just stands there.
With a stretch of his arms and legs, he begins the trek.
When he eventually reached the suspect, he was shocked. Appalled, even. Phainon has arguably seen most of Amphoreus and is rather very attuned with all cultures within the land – these two? What the hell are they wearing? And is that a train car in the distance? Wait, nevermind that. The monsters surround the foreigners, and without hesitation, he strikes.
The dust begins to settle. The monster vapors away beneath his sword. Silence.
Phainon could hear the labored breaths of the newcomers, and with what sounded like the stepping over a rock, Phainon turned and leaped.
The first to catch his eye, a gray haired male. His eyes shine a golden hue that reminds him of the wheat fields at home. There is something… interesting about him. Perchance he said that out loud but he couldn't quite be sure as the moment his hand touched the other's shoulder, it was as if the ground below became cotton. A physical sensation of static loomed onto his hand and into his ears… He didn't hear anything.
What?
He couldn't ponder long as the gray-haired friend aimed an attack. The hand moved and so did the warm feeling.
—
Chaos seemed to happen in an instant the moment the group sat among the dromos. Thankfully moments passed and they were able to reconvene, amidst the broken pillars that surrounded them.
Phainon tried to be subtle, but he had to test this theory out. While he was expressing his gratitude towards the trailblazers, he hesitantly placed a hand on Caelus’ shoulder and the other on his own heart. Hoping to look more sincere than a lunatic.
‘...’
He couldn't hear anything.
Phainon’s hand continues to caress the trailblazers shoulder, his touch lingering longer than it should by any normal standard – but he couldn't help it. The Deliverer was confused beyond belief.
‘Was he thinking of nothing? Is that even possible?’
He began to feel a burning sensation behind him, and with a turn of his head, he saw Dan Heng glaring daggers with his eyes. With quick understanding, he moves his arms and adds on an apology.
Caelus huffs a laugh, paying it no mind.
How fascinating. For the first time in his life, someone’s thoughts are quiet. It feels… normal. Calm.
“Shall I show you all around?” Phainon asks, happiness radiating around him.
He wants to touch Caelus again.
—
And so he does.
Phainon takes every chance he gets to touch the foreigner; from random high-fives, pats on the back, and even an arm around the shoulder. He continues to hear nothing and he can’t help but be elated every single time.
Just to make sure it's not a hoax or some weird power he can only activate with those native to Amphoreus, he pats Dan Heng on separate occasions. The first was the small moment of rest when defeating the monsters soon after their arrival;
“Thank you, Partner,” a pat on the baseballer then on the other, “ Dan Heng,”
‘–We have to communicate with everyone soon. Now that the cab is destroyed, we can’t risk losing any more equipment.’
Oops. Dan Heng seems to still be upset about his spear.
The second was with their initial departure, specifically when handing the two over to Algaea. He gave Dan Heng a firm hand shake, trying to emphasize his true appreciation for the help they provided.
‘Hm. He seems genuine, though I don’t trust him alone with Caelus. But… maybe he is just that friendly with everyone?’
It took everything in Phainon to not morph his expression into one of guilt and embarrassment. Good to know he wasn't being as sneaky as he thought with his newfound advances.
It wasn't until weeks after the pair's arrival when Caelus had finally broken.
“Phainon,” Caelus began, his back facing the other. The Deliverer had just dropped off the trailblazer to his room and was about to turn back to assist Dan Heng in the library. Phainon knows from first hand experience how overwhelming (and confusing) the decor of books can be. Though the sound of his name made him freeze in his tracks, his hand no longer stretched to the door.
“Yes, Partner?”
The nickname elects the traveler to turn his head, he opens his mouth, then closes. Finally, he turns to face the other completely.
“What are you hiding?”
‘Always so straightforward,’ was Phainon's initial thought – his fondness for the others' bravery always in the forefront of his mind. Then came the realization of what the other is implying; “what do you mean?” He attempts to ask in a casual tone.
Caelus struts to his bed and sits with determination, pointing at Dan Heng’s own furniture with fervor.
“He won’t mind?” Phainon asked, though in all honesty, not caring about the response as he already made his way to sit.
“It’s fine,” Caelus starts with a dismissal of his hand, “I want you to be honest with me.”
“Of course.” Phainon begins to mentally prepare for whatever sort of question he could be asked;
‘Do you like me?’
‘of course I do, you're the hero this world needs,’ would be Phainon's response.
‘Can you read minds?’
‘Well, I can’t read yours,” he would evade.
Caelus sat with such strangely perfect posture, Phainon couldn't help but imitate. They maintained eye contact, even when Caelus put a finger to his own chin and leaned forward. Tilting his head to the side, he asks, “are you blind?”
“... Excuse me?” Phainon couldn't tell if this was an insult or not.
Caelus squinted his eyes, as if trying to dissect the other’s reaction. “Like, blind. Or, do you have trouble seeing?”
Ah, okay. Genuine question.
“Erm, no. My eyesight is not impaired in any way.” He couldn’t help but chuckle, “why do you ask?”
The gray-haired seemed only slightly disappointed in his answer. He sighs and leans back with crossed arms, “nothing serious. It’s just,” he hesitated before continuing. “I just noticed you touch me a lot. Not in a weird way, but like on my shoulders and stuff. You do it to other people too, but not as often. I figure it was because you needed help trying to locate a person or something. You know, like a guide dog?”
He blinks. Processing.
What could’ve been a whole five minutes later, Phainon suddenly erupts with laughter. His shoulders shake with the roughness of his heaving, tears begin to form in the corner of his eyes. Meanwhile, Caelus sits with a lost expression, simply just observing the Deliverer's outburst. When Phainon hadn’t calmed down, he grew concerned. “Did I say something wrong?”
The older is clutching his stomach, his body bent as if trying to shrink himself into a fortune cookie. “No, no-” he breathes between laughs. “No,” he repeats, “it's not you.” Eventually he wipes the wetness from his face and takes a grounding breath. He coughs, “heh, sorry. That was just,” a laugh, “just wow. Out of all things, I did not expect you to reach that conclusion. You are undoubtedly fascinating, Caelus.”
Both the complement (he hopes it's a complement) and usage of his name shocked Caelus, “uh… Thanks?”
Phainon takes a second to just smile at the other, fully processing the laughter he hasn't felt himself experience in a long time. “Though I suppose, I haven’t been entirely truthful to you. Even after I promised,” this caught the baseballer’s attention. “Algaea says it's a blessing but I view it more as a curse. Ever since I could remember, I had the ability to hear the thoughts of other people. I didn't understand the connection at the time, but I could only listen when I was in physical contact with the other,”
“Woah…”
His grin widened at the piqued interest of the other and continues: “it’s had its good moments, sure. Like tactical advantages when sparring – do you know how mad Mydei gets when I can ‘predict’,” he air quotes, “his moves? It's hilarious!” Both men chuckle at the thought. “But honestly, it has been nothing but a burden. Unfiltered thoughts and such vulnerable states of emotions that I shouldn't have access too… It's awful. It just became second nature to ignore any voice that passes my ear, until you.”
“Me?”
“I can’t hear your thoughts.”
Caelus didn’t know how to respond.
“I hate to admit, but when I first discovered this, I had thought you had peas for brains and just never thought of anything.”
“Hey.”
Phainon raises his hands defensively, “can you blame me? I’ve never heard someone's inner thoughts be silent. It wasn't until later that I figured the curse just ignored you.” He takes a breath, “I guess, I just got excited… In a sense of normalcy I've never got to feel before.”
“Is that why you keep touching me?”
“Wha – okay, don’t word it like that! It makes me sound like some sort of creep…”
Caelus smiled, and Phainon felt his heart skip. “It's okay, I didn’t view it like that,” he comforts. “I guess if I were to be honest,” he darts his eyes away from the other nervously. Phainon couldn’t help but tilt his head at the action. “I… kinda liked it. I think.”
The saying of “butterflies in your stomach,” seemed to have been belittled over the years – that or Phainon has dromos in his chest, beating his heart so fast he feels like he could throw up. He liked it? He liked it? He wasn't uncomfortable?
… could he want more?
Phainon couldn't help but reply with a stupid, “Oh.”
Both men remained flustered, the white-haired staring deeply at the other's face and Caelus looking anywhere but him.
“I mean,” Phainon recovers, “I am thrilled to hear it hasn't made you uncomfortable… I fear Dan Heng has interpreted it in an ill way that I did not intend.” He folds his hands together, “however, I do want to sincerely apologise for coming on too strong. I-”
“It’s fine,” Caelus hurryingly interrupts, “really, I didn't – no, I don’t mind. I was never uncomfortable. Just…confused.”
“Confused?”
“It…” The trailblazer fumbles with his words. God how Phainon wished he could hear his thoughts. “It was a feeling I haven't felt before. It took me a while to understand it. Or well, I'm still trying to understand it.”
“Do you think you could describe that feeling? Perhaps I can help.” Phainon was being greedy, but he couldn't stop himself.
“Well, I guess I should be more specific then,” he laments. “Its not as if the feeling was new, but different.”
“Mhm,” he urges the other to continue.
“When you would touch me, it felt comforting. Almost familiar? Like something that was meant to be.” Caelus’ face is turning more and more red; a color that Phainon can’t help but love. “When March or Welt would hug me, I got the same feeling… but not. I think it’s just happiness, or being content. But with you, it feels like I want more.” Phainon’s eyes widen and he feels his own face flush.
Caelus turns, now face to face with Phainon, “and I liked it. I liked that it was you doing that.”
The tension was thick and heavy. Caelus, now embarrassed at whatever confession he just spilt, was seriously considering jumping off the balcony. Even more so at Phainon's star struck reaction.
Based on all the books and movies Caelus has watched, the feeling he’s experiencing is love. Or maybe not love love, but an extremely strong love.
Love is for marriage, right? Living the rest of their lives together? Caelus thought, picturing the idea of living old (or however old his life could withstand) with Phainon.
…
He liked that idea.
Well damn, maybe it was love.
“Partner,”
Hearing his nickname brought him back to the present, the caller now standing in front of him. Peering his head up, he can see the utter mess of emotions Phainon's face was contorting into. Caelus can’t pinpoint all of them, but one he recognizes is want.
“Caelus,” he repeats, “can I hold you?”
“Yes,”
Before Caelus could even feel embarrassed from his pathetic response, Phainon’s arms were wrapped around his upper body. His biceps covered a majority of his head, almost large enough to block his entire view.
‘Aeon’s, how big is this guy?’
Caelus tilts his chin up to rest on the taller shoulder, soon enveloping his own arms around his back. They were in that position for minutes, the only movement would be Phainon's squeeze of his arms; as if scared Caelus would disappear.
“You can sit down, you know?” the gray had laughed, now taking notice of Phainon’s crouched body. That had to be uncomfortable.
Making no verbal response, the Deliverer simply kneeled in front of Caelus. Akin to praying for a God, Phainon brought his arms to the others lower back, his hands just above the tailbone. His head now lying in his lap and body between legs. His grip is incredibly strong. Unsure what to do with his own hands, the trailblazer began to stroke the white mess of hair.
Caelus was content, more than that, actually. He found joy in brushing his fingers through the smooth locks, the white color in some contrast to his skin. The white reminded him of the snow in Belobog.
‘Hehe, Snowy… What would be his reaction if I called him Snowy, too?’
His thought was quickly cut short by the feeling of a thumb rubbing circles on his hip. Caelus was unsure when Phainon had moved his hands to rest on the side of his legs – he noted that if Phainon moved his hands even an inch forward, he would cup his ass.
The dirty thought had him halter his brushing, even bringing his own hand to cover his eyes.
‘How embarrassing…’
“Caelus?”
‘His name again? What happened to my partner…’ “Ye- yeah?” He stuttered, his index and thumb now digging into his eyes to ease the embarrassment. (Note: it wasn't working.) When the heir had not continued, Caelus removed his hands to investigate.
Phainon, now millimeters from the other's crotch, was looking up lustfully at the younger. Caelus doesn’t know why his brain decided to comment on how close Phainon was, but now that it's taken note, he can’t help but feel his flustered state increase tenfold.
“Um-”
“Can I kiss you?” Phainon interrupted. His voice sounded slightly strained and almost needy. The hands on the gray hips flex, with the fingernails slightly digging into the pants.
“What – Uhm,” Caelus became frazzled, “kiss?” He points to himself, “kiss me?”
Real smooth.
Phainon adjusted his stance again, hands removed from the warm body and now on either side of the trailblazers legs, caging him in. His palms lie fixated on the bed, gripping the fabric. His confidence seemed to dulled when he responded, “yes. If… that is alright.”
“My, what a gentleman,” Caelus had laughed. He licked his lips self consciously and when noting the way Phainon’s eyes followed the movement, he leaned in. “Since you asked so politely, of cours-” He was cut short with a muffle.
With such force of the push and auto-reflex of clenching his jaw in an anticipated hit, Caelus had accidentally bit into his lip, his tongue now tasting the familiar metallic hint. Being so surprised and caught off guard by the enthusiasm, Caelus had brought his hands to the sides of Phainon, his fingers tussled in his hair. Phainon, clearly elated by the reciprocation, tilted his head and deepened the kiss. Caelus felt a different foreign pressure of something wet on his lips, and by the time he realized it was Phainon’s tongue, the other had pulled away.
“You’re bleeding!” Phainon huffed, winded and face splashed with red. His eyes are no longer glazed with lust but rather concern. Said blood was stained on Phainon’s lips, to which instead of wiping off with his sleeve like a regular person would, he simply licked it off.
Being so mesmerized by whatever that was, Caelus dazed with a “huh?”
Phainon brought his unsteady hands – shaking from excitement or fear of the other's injury is something Caelus couldn’t pinpoint – and brushed his thumb along the other's closed mouth. The trailblazer regained his composure, “Oh, I’m okay,” he let Phainon pet his face a bit more before he waved away both his worry and hands. “Just bit myself by accident.”
The Deliverer seemed to physically deflate and placed his hands on top of his thighs. He then lowered his head, “I’m sorry…”
Caelus let out a heartful laugh, “What? Why? You're not in trouble.” He patted the other's hair again, ruffling the top of it. “I enjoyed it.”
As if the fountain of youth was injected in the veins of the other, Phainon looked up and broke into a smile of awe, eyes practically sparkling, “you did?”
“I’ve… never kissed anyone before so I don’t have any experience… But I enjoyed it nonetheless.”
“... I was your first?” The light in his eyes increased tenfold.
“Yup- ugh! Phainon?”
Phainon hugged Caelus again, “Ah, I'm so honored…” He rubbed his forehead against the other's chest. “Thank you, my Partner.”
Caelus wasn't exactly sure how to respond. ‘You’re welcome?’ Well, it wasn't a business deal so no… ‘Wanna do it again?’ tempting, but his lips still stung and the logical part of his brain reminded himself that both of them have things to do. Maybe words weren't needed?
He shrugged off his internal conflict, leaning so slightly to peck a kiss on top of Phainon's head. The kiss was so light that it could’ve been the wind. Phainon felt it anyway.
Phainon got the wrong message and started sliding his hands down the others back, stopping by the waistband. Before he could get any further, Caelus grabbed both wrists, “hey, now. Too soon don’tcha think?”
“Oh! Sorry, sorry!” Seeming genuine, Caelus released his grip and Phainon bounced back, now standing up again. Offering a hand to the younger, “You’re just too irresistible," and then a wink.
“Pfft- okay, sure,” Caelus rolled his eyes, but accepted the gesture.
Brows imminently lowered and his demeanor changed to one of sincerity, "I'm serious.”
“I know you are, that's why I laughed. You’re too earnest it's sickening.”
Phainon adjusted his grip, interlocking his fingers with his devotion. “I’m just so happy right now. I may be the luckiest person in the universe…” He brought their joined hands and placed a kiss to the gray’s glove.
Caelus couldn’t help but sigh, it was loving of course. “C’mon,” he drawled.
There was no response. Just a tightening of the Deliverer's grip and an honest look in his eyes.
“Thank you, Caelus.”
“For what?”
“For granting me peace. Even if it's momentarily.”