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“Phainon?”
Phainon picks up his head, pausing shovelling lasagna into his mouth. “Hm?”
“I’ve never seen you without your shirt,” Mydeimos comments plainly. And while it may be an odd observation, Mydeimos does spend a good amount of time shirtless in their shared apartment, always claiming to run hot. And Phainon has never once done the same, preferring to hang out in zip-up jackets and hoodies from his college days.
“And I’ve never seen you without pants,” Phainon bites back, playfully, taking another bite from his plate. And that’s true, too. Phainon likes to spend time in shorts, or without pants at all, relaxing on their couch in his tighty-whities. Thighs on display. Mydeimos, though, has never worn anything shorter than a pair of cargo shorts, even in his own bedroom.
Mydeimos rolls his eyes and goes back to his own plate. “I’m just saying that could stand to be a little more casual.”
“I think we both could, my friend,” Phainon chirps. “You know what they say. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
Mydeimos’ face flares in a bright red, and he gasps. “You-! Idiot.. Have you lost your mind?”
Phainon finishes his lasagna and puts his fork down carefully, sitting up straight. “Uh, I don’t think so?”
A fork is launched at his head with all of Mydeimos’ force.
—
Phainon’s lunch boxes for work that week are particularly delicious. Juicy braised pork, perfectly seared meat buns, and even those stupid little octopus hot dogs he liked as a kid that he mentioned a whole once when they started living together. There’s even little desserts, something Mydeimos doesn’t include often because of his nutrition degree. “Sugar rots your focus,” Phainon mocks him alone.
And each day after work, Phainon goes to the gym, just as he has for the last four years, even before he and Mydeimos met. He’s not sure Mydeimos knows he goes, especially because of his casual concern over how much Phainon eats, which is due in part to his experimenting with recipes and Phainon being his taste tester for every one. Phainon works out, and then he goes home, showering just in time for Mydeimos to get home and get working on dinner.
Phainon thanks him for the delicious lunch, helps where he can with dinner, and then sets up the next episode of whatever show they’re watching together on the TV.
But today, after dinner is through and the TV is set, Mydeimos stops him. “Phainon.”
Phainon, bent over the couch digging for the remote he somehow lost, shoots up, spinning around. “Wha-?”
“Take your hoodie off. Now.”
The demanding tone in Mydeimos’ voice makes him pause. He furrows his brow. “What? What for?”
Mydeimos’ face is red, and an inkling of what’s going on settles in Phainon’s chest. Mydeimos has been shirtless since the moment he got home, but now that Phainon is really looking, his shorts are.. rather short. Kind of skimpy, honestly. And suddenly, Phainon can’t stop staring at his thighs, thick, muscular. They must taste divine.
“I’ve shown you mine. You show me yours.”
Now, Phainon is sure that Mydeimos knows he’s built. His legs are on display more often than not, and they are not slim or heavy with fat. So it confuses him when he removes the college hoodie from his shoulders and Mydeimos’ mouth falls open at the body that’s revealed to him. “What?” Phainon asks dumbly. “What’s wrong?”
“Phainon, you’re..” Mydeimos’ mouth opens and closes a few times, and for the first time, Phainon can say that Mydeimos looks dumber than he does. “You’re.. large.”
Phainon can see the mental facepalm Mydeimos does to himself for his choice of words.
“Yeah! I mean, I go to the gym after work! You’ve seen my legs, Mydei, did you not think the rest of me looked the same?”
Mydeimos’ mouth is still on the floor, and Phainon laughs as he puts his sweater back on. “Well, there ya go. We gonna watch our show?”
Mydeimos jumps, and for a moment, Phainon thinks he sees an erection in those tiny shorts. “I.. I’ll be right back.”
Phainon laughs to himself as Mydeimos walks off, likely to go deal with his problem. Because he knows he’s sexy.
—
Phainon starts spending a bit more time shirtless around the apartment after that. First thing in the morning when he’s not ready to get dressed, after his showers while he and Mydeimos prepare dinner, even just lazing on the couch on the weekends in the middle of the afternoon. And Mydeimos doesn’t stop staring. Phainon doesn’t mind; he’s spent plenty of time staring at Mydeimos in kind. Eyes on his stunning chest, dreaming of running his tongue over the tanned skin until he cries.
It all comes to a head one Sunday morning. Mydeimos had baked cinnamon rolls the night before, so they warm those up with some of the thin frosting for breakfast, a calm silence between them as they drink coffee and eat together. They’re both shirtless and in underwear for a change, comfortable, trusting.
Mydeimos finishes his food first. Sets down his fork. Looks Phainon in the eyes, and says, “Let’s fuck.”
What.
Phainon coughs like he’s been punched in the throat. The piece of cinnamon roll that was in his mouth flies out and slaps wetly onto the table with a gross noise. He keeps choking, dropping his utensil. “Fucking- shit- Mydei, what the hell?”
Mydeimos looks unfazed. “What? I’m hot, you’re hot, and we’re obviously attracted to each other. Isn’t that the most logical conclusion?”
“Wait, no, hold on!” Phainon gasps, finally catching his breath. “What do you mean I’m hot? You’ve always just told me I’m big!”
“Because I thought you had some fat on you, idiot. Don’t you realize how many of your favorite snacks and meals I make you? I was under the impression that your damn sweaters were hiding a stomach you were ashamed of. And I’ve thought you were attractive regardless.”
Phainon must be dreaming, because there’s no way Mydeimos is saying all of this about him, much less to him! He’s reeling. Not only did Mydeimos think he was fat under his clothes, but would have thought he was sexy if he was..
Mydeimos is sexy. Phainon is sexy. But he never would have imagined that Mydeimos thought that, too.
“So?” Mydeimos prompts him. “Are we gonna fuck or what?”
“Y-Yeah,” Phainon responds sheepishly, head still a little dizzy from the revelation. “But uh, there’s something you should know?” He laughs awkwardly, even as Mydeimos crosses his arms over his chest, like whatever Phainon is about to say doesn’t matter at all.
“I’m a virgin,” he confesses, shy.
Mydeimos then sports that same puzzled look as when Phainon stripped for him last week. Bewilderment mixed with attraction, his jaw hung open. “Phainon, you can’t be serious.”
“Dead serious,” Phainon chuckles, scratching the back of his head. “Guess no one ever thought I was sexy like you.”
“Fuck.”
Mydeimos’ patience seems to run out. He stands and rounds the table, pulling Phainon up and into a kiss that feels more like being swallowed than being kissed. Their lips press together electrically, slotting together like they were made just for one another. This isn’t Phainon’s first kiss, but it’s definitely the best one. It’s good. It’s like Mydeimos is trying to lick into his throat and soul.
He can’t help the way his hands find Mydeimos’ hips, holds on tight like he'll melt if he ever lets go. Mydeimos moans breathily against his lips, and Phainon drags his fingers down his spine where he knows his roommate is sensitive. Mydeimos shivers, so Phainon does it again. “About the food thing..” he whispers harshly, starting to kiss down Mydeimos’ throat, “I work out extra hard to work off the calories.. So I can eat more of your food.”
Mydeimos moans again, louder, unashamed. “Damnit, Phainon..” He starts to kiss him harder, hands rough on Phainon’s cheeks, teeth biting at his lips. Mydeimos tastes like a dream, just like Phainon always thought he would.
Standing this close, their cocks brush together, even still tucked into their underwear. They both groan a bit with the friction, but Mydeimos is the one to pull back and catch his breath before shoving Phainon back a bit. “My room. Now.”
“Yeah,” Phainon replies quickly, grabbing his Mydeimos by the wrist to drag him. They get there in barely a second, and even if it’s just the two of them that live there, Mydeimos shuts the bedroom door and pushes Phainon against it, pressing their bodies together. Phainon mewls as their dicks slide together sweetly, unable to stop his hips rocking up a bit.
“Look at you,” Mydeimos teases against his mouth. “Twenty three years old and desperate to come in his underwear just because his roommate wants to bone.” Phainon whimpers helplessly loudly. “Pitiful.”
Mydeimos is right. Phainon is really close just from the making out, even if it’s only been a few minutes. But he can’t help it. Because he can’t get enough of how Mydeimos rolls his own hips forward while going back to devouring his mouth.
Phainon is on fire. He must be. He’s never felt desire or arousal so thick in his gut like this, all consuming and dizzy. He can hardly breathe as Mydeimos kisses him, and that makes the pleasure better. “Mydei..”
They frot for a hot second longer before Phainon starts to shake, his orgasm building warm and heady in his belly. Like a fist, waiting, aching. Mydeimos just keeps kissing him, but starts moving against him faster as Phainon babbles about being on the edge. “Don’t come yet, Phainon,” Mydeimos grunts. “Not yet.. Just a little longer..”
Phainon isn’t sure he can hold it, but he tries, clenches his stomach and groin as Mydeimos keeps going. It’s good. It’s electric. It burns. He needs to come, so badly. He needs this..
Mydeimos finally takes pity on him, huffing against his lips, “Come for me, Phainon. Show me how pathetic you can be.”
Fuck..
Phainon comes weakly with a short shout of Mydeimos’ name. His cock kicks in his briefs, staining his underwear horribly with his spend, his kissing getting messy and uncoordinated as pleasure racks through him head to toe. Mydeimos works him through it, for better or worse, rocking their hips together and kissing him more and more until the shocks stop and Phainon’s legs turn to jelly.
He’s gotten close to having sex a time or two, foreplay and dirty talk included. But all of those experiences fly out the window when Mydeimos smooths a hand down his left arm before cupping his cheek. “Phainon? You with me?”
“Uh-huh,” Phainon mumbles, smacking his lips to try and ground himself, wet his mouth from the panting he was doing. Like a damn dog.
Well, Mydeimos has called him a dog a million times.
Mydeimos steps back, gives Phainon some room. He almost tumbles, but catches himself. He feels hazy, and good. Really good. “Mydei..”
“Want more, don’t you?” Mydeimos asks him, all warm and hot. His voice settles in Phainon’s belly like a good meal. Fulfilling. Comforting. “Ask for it, Phainon.” Mydeimos pops a hip and rests a hand on it. “Ask for what you want.”
Phainon’s words are thick in his mouth. He fights to push them out. “Want..” Taking a final deep breath, Phainon swallows and stands straight, proud, eager. “I want you to fuck me.”
Mydeimos looks surprised, eyebrows crooking up before an amused laugh bubbles from his chest. “Well alright then. On your knees, boy. Let’s see you get me ready.”