Work Text:
It was in all he did; it was mixed in with the blends of spices that laced the food and tossed in with sprigs of rosemary. He could always tell what the other was feeling through the tastes and textures that graced his tongue.
He never dared comment on it, but he was sure he didn't need to. The man could always take his anger out on titan kin when it bubbled through his veins. But, when it came to the tricker emotions—the ones he was taught to shove down and burry since he was young—there was never a safe way to express that kind of vulnerability.
Emotions are the enemy of Kremnos; the fear-stricken warriors live not to see tomorrow.
For a while Phainon got to watch his comrades eat fluffy honey cakes drizzled with sugar and fresh fruits. It was warm and open and kind. It was comfort in a morning meal, it let him know that Mydei was happy.
“What do you want.” Mydei grumbled as Phainon infiltrated the Mamoreal Palace kitchen to bother his favorite victim. Could you really blame him if Mydei always reacted so dramatically.
They always dance around each other with teasing remarks and challenges, as much as they are warriors with strength beyond compare; it's nice to meet someone you can just be an immature kid with.
Phainon stepped further into the room until he was leaning against the counter, “I haven’t said a word and already managed to earn your ire. How lucky today must be hmm.”
“You’re brave to say that to the person who can poison your food, deliverer.” Mydei shot back while expertly whisking the pale golden batter. With his eyes alone Phainon knew it would be delicious, even if he wasn't lucky enough to get a bite himself.
Phainon found it to be more of a fun game than anything, seeing how much he’d managed to upset Mydei everyday by how disgusting his dinner was. There were precious few days where he got to taste the full extravagance of Mydei’s cooking skills. It was just too fun to mess with the man.
The comment made Phainon laugh, brighter than Kephale’s sun on its brightest day, “Even you would hate to lose a sparring partner as good as me!” The unbridled confidence Phainon always carried was ever present.
Mydei scoffed before setting down his bowl and turning to the snowy haired man, “Did you really just come here to piss me off? Or are you at least going to make yourself useful.”
“I don't think you’d even want my help,” Phainon chuckled lightly with a sheepish smile, “Im quite terrible in the kitchen if I'm being honest.” he grabbed at his shoulder as he spoke.
“Great. You can make your own then.” Mydei replied gruffly throwing Phainon a piece of paper which he easily caught. On it was a scribbled recipe, the paper having obvious signs of use and flour cemented to the corner.
Mydei tilted his head up looking down on Phainon, “Make your own deliverer. Did Cerces fail to bless you with any reason?”
To Phainon this sounded like nothing short of a challenge; and Phainon would never back down from a challenge, especially not one that came from Mydei.
Pushing himself off from the counter he walked closer to the stove searching for a bowl while the sweet smell of honey cakes filled his nose along with the sizzle of hot butter as Mydei no doubt started up his cooking again.
“You’re not even going to try and help me?” Phainon looked at Mydei up from where he was crouched under the counter searching for a mixing vessel with his signature sad puppy dog look.
It only earned him a sharp glare, “No.”
Phainon heaved a heavy sigh but didn't fight it, instead preparing for how hard he’s going to get laughed at for what is about to be a pathetic mockery of the culinary arts.
Carefully he measured out the ingredients and poured them into the bowl trying his absolute best to follow the directions to a tee. Whisking gently as he drizzled in the honey and so on.
Even with all of his efforts, the batter ended up looking like a chunky mess. “It doesnt matter what it looks like as long as it tastes good right?” Phainon muttered to himself trying to hold onto some hope that his breakfast would be good.
Phainon poured some of the thick batter into a hot pan before stepping away to go look at Mydei’s creations. They were perfect. Phainon couldn’t help but giggle at the stack of honey cakes with whipped cream and strawberries on it, “Are those one's for you?”
“So what if they are?” The other warrior huffed back before moving on to decorate another stack, this one sprinkled with chocolate chips.
“You just don't seem like the type to enjoy sweets.” Phainon hummed, “Although I guess it makes sense if I think about it.”
Mydei glanced over at him, arching an eyebrow as he continued to expertly drizzle syrup over the chocolate chips, the warm scent of the cakes filling the air. "And what exactly does that mean?" he asked, his voice carried an undercurrent of amusement, though he was clearly curious about Phainon's comment.
Phainon, a little caught off guard by the question, shrugged, "I don't know, you just seem more like the type who'd prefer something salty or hearty, like a big, meaty stew or a rare steak... not all this." He gestured vaguely at the whipped cream and the sugary goodness that now surrounded them.
“Did you even have sweets growing up in Kremnos?” Phainon wondered out loud.
Mydei wrapped up his task and crossed his arms over his chest turning his full attention to the other man with him. “No, they are merely an Okhemen luxury.” he confirms, “And I would have thought you know me better by now.” Mydei smirks playfully.
The two may never acknowledge it, but they both know each other down to their breath. Even if they rarely speak in anything other than vague threats.
Phainon’s hands dropped to his hips, “Well maybe if you actually engaged in conversation I wouldn't be so in the dark.”
“You talk enough for the both of us.”
Phainon opened his mouth to respond, but was forced to shut it again when the wafting smell of burned food started to float through the room. He spun on his heel to be meet with his honey cakes an ashy mess stuck to the pan.
Phainon hurried and frantically grabbed the pan scraping the mess off of it with his bare hands before it got any worse, not even noticing the pain in the middle of his panic.
As soon as the clank of the pan hitting the counter resounded through the room Mydei grabbed Phainon by the wrist, pushing his hand down into a basin of cold water, “Idiot.” He scolded unable to hide the gentle concern in his voice.
Phainon grabbed at his shoulder with his free hand and gave a sheepish smile, “It’s fine, I've lived through so much worse.”
Mydei didn't respond to that, but Phainon caught the way his jaw tensed ever so slightly, and his eyebrows furrowed downward accentuating the small crease by his eyes. He was the flicker of something in his golden eyes.
Phainon held his breath for a moment, watching Mydei’s face carefully. There was something in his expression that didn’t quite match the usual indifference—something that hinted at a deeper, more raw emotion. The moment passed quickly, as Mydei yanked his hand away from the cold-water basin and reached for a towel, his motions brisk and clinical.
“You’re impossible,” Mydei muttered, more to himself than to Phainon. He wiped Phainon’s hand gently, though his fingers were tense, as if trying to hold himself back from something.
Phainon let the silence hang in the air for a second before he dared to speak again. “I’m not that bad, am I?”
“You’re the worst.” Mydei corrected bluntly as he started to wrap soft cotton bandages around Phainon’s hand. He had a steady gentleness to his motions that almost made Phainons heart flutter.
Mydei’s words caused Phainon to huff out a breath, a soft smile setting onto his lips. “Between you and me, I think you’re much worse,” Phainon doesnt dare miss the chance to tease him back. The playful banter falling easily from his lips like how rain falls from the sky--it only seemed natural.
Mydei carefully flattened out any creases in the bandages before slipping his hands away from Phainon. The snowy haired warrior had to resist chasing the warmth that left him.
“Are you seriously going to leave me with a pile of ashes for breakfast?” Phainon asked incredulously after he quickly recovered. To which Mydei just gave a knowing smirk conveying more than words ever could.
Breakfast that morning was amazing. The Chrysos Heirs sat around a table eating honey cakes and talking about everything and nothing. Tribbie giggled with chocolate-stained lips as Phainon sat watching, his pitiful plate of ash sitting in front of him.
There was a warmth and comfort in the atmosphere that couldn't be rivaled, a happiness of warm food and little worries. It almost felt as if the weight of the prophecy was not weighing over them.
Laughs resounded in a sweet chorus; no one was panicking about the future or the fights of the past, in that moment they were simply a group of friends sharing a meal, even Mydei held a flicker of a smile on his face.