[ Phainon, a little oblivious, tries not to focus too much on that lower purr, and he can feel his cheeks grow hotter and hotter as he makes his way to the kitchen. It's hard not to turn around and just grab at the other man, but he's determined to keep his head, focusing instead on the preparations that he's already made. He's been cooking, but he could've kept it warm if needed.
And, so... ]
You mentioned not being excited about a salad. I decided to try something a little new?
[ What comes out of the oven is some decently cooked salmon, with some fish cakes on the side to add to the meal. There is an option for some salad to go with it, a light bowl on the counter, but it's obvious that the cooked things are the star of the meal. Placing it down and putting the oven gloves aside, Phainon smiles. ]
[ The Cat raises his eyebrows at the spread. It's modest, yes, but given the recipe Phainon had told him about that allegedly held so much family nostalgia for him, he definitely hadn't been expecting the Ritz. But he also hadn't been expecting something he'd probably expect to receive if he ordered takeout from a place that actually knows what they're doing when it comes to fish and doesn't just scoop it out of the water with a claw and bite its head off raw like he does.
He smiles, genuinely impressed, and comes over to get both a closer look and a better smell, nose twitching in interest. ]
This is more than okay. I won't lie to you, I was honestly thinking your cooking skills would be more like a kid who just left home than anything else, but this looks great.
[ Is it weird to be a little touched? Well, he is. Even if this invite is one he wormed his way into, it's still nice to be treated in this way. He definitely didn't think they'd end up here when he'd watched Phainon sit across the table from him at the ball. Not that he's complaining. ]
Though, I guess if you're cooking for your friends a lot, you must at least be decent at it. The alternative is just sad.
[ Phainon likes to think he is a decent chef, but he's well aware a lot of his family recipes are from humble beginnings. His home village, before it burned, was a farming place, based on the vegetables that could be grown and the seasons, so that is what he is most comfortable with. Being a solider and learning to make other meals had helped, but it wasn't until he settled into Okhema that he felt as if he really knew how to cook.
Cat comes closer, and Phainon leans into him a little, pleased. ]
I've been away from home for years, Cat! I know how to cook.
[ That little pout just makes Cat want to bite him. Or pinch his cheeks again, but then Phainon is turning away, and the Cat fizzes with missed opportunity. No matter, he'll get him later.
He nods, taking a plate out of Phainon's hand, and yes, he takes the opportunity to touch his fingers because he can't resist a good cliche. And also touching Phainon, he can't resist that either. ]
The length of time you've been away from home doesn't count for shit. I've been alive for thousands of years, and I've never learned to cook.
[ Something something lack of opportunity. Cat could have learned if he'd had the drive to do it, but when you're an incredibly lonely Cat Monarch who thrives in your small town on the mystery of your origin and have very few people you're willing to show any vulnerability to, including the inability to feed yourself beyond the easy-to-acquire cans in your cannery.... it's a tough thing to coordinate. He takes the liberty of serving himself first, then sits himself at the dining table. At least he's got the manners to wait for Phainon to start tucking in. ]
How many years is 'years'? How long have you been away from home for?
[ It's said gently, though, a tease rather than a scold, especially as their fingers brush as they move together to get their food. Phainon lets him take as much as he likes (the meal is for him, after all) before he puts his plates down and grabs some drinks for them both. It's tempting to make some kind of tease about cats and milk, but he decides that sort of joke is better saved for later.
Leaning back in his chair, he's about to start on a fishcake when the question comes, and he stills, briefly.
There's a real answer to the question, and a technical one, and he's not sure which one to give. Eventually, using the excuse of chewing food to give himself time to think, he finds one that works. ]
It's been more than a decade now, at least. [ Which is very true. ] I became a soldier, and then arrived in a city, Okhema, and began work as a Chrysos Heir.
[ The Cat has pretty good table manners for someone who has very little real need for such habits. Except for the elbow he perches on the table to prop his chin up and the way he holds his fork like it weighs absolutely nothing in his fingers, he's the model of a polite dinner guest. He even put a napkin on his lap and everything.
At Phainon's answer, he can't help the little focused flex of his catlike pupils, wider and then tighter, as if they're a lens focusing in and magnifying the response. He's under no assumption that Phainon's world is anything like his own and he's no stranger either to those who are much older than they look, and he already knows that Phainon was/is a soldier, but... ]
What are you fighting? If you're a soldier, there's gotta be some big bad, doesn't there? Otherwise there'd be nothing to fight. [ He slips what fish is on his fork into his mouth, then points it at Phainon with the prongs. ] Actually. Let me guess. [ Chewing. Thinking. ] Chrysos makes me think... gold. Because of the flowers, right? So, are you beating back darkness, or something dramatic like that?
[ Phainon is growing used to this, to being examined and watched as he explains the oddities about himself. He knows he is strange, with his golden blood, his too-hot body, the scarring on his chest and the symbol that hovers in his eyes. It's no surprise that people want to learn more, and he's been careful to dance around it thus far. If Mydeimos and Cipher are willing to share that's one thing, but his own story might lead to a darkening of their own.
Leaning back in his chair, he hums softly. There's wine in their glasses, now, a light, simple one, and he sips at it as he tries to find the right words to explain it all, to dance around the truth with enough care that the Cat won't have to worry himself overmuch. ]
Gold blood. That is the mark of a Chrysos Heir. [ That's one explanation out of the way, at least. ] It is our duty to fight against the Black Tide, an oncoming storm that steals people's souls and leaves monsters in their wake. If we're unable to stop it, then it will consume our entire world. As an Heir, we are destined to inherit the Coreflame of a Titan and use those powers to stop the Tide, and bring a new Dawn to Amphoreus.
[ Golden blood, is it? That explains the diffusion of colour under his skin, and the Cat marvels over the fact that he's bitten him multiple times, drawn his blood with his claws and fangs both, and has somehow never given himself any dawn of realisation. Though, he supposes that his focus was very much elsewhere during those times, and he can be rather single-minded if there's something keeping his attention. For example, thinking about it now is making him want to take one of Phainon's hands and nibble his fingers or scoop the glass out of his hand to bite his lip, so he flicks his eyes down to his plate and cuts a piece of fish like a man in deep, deep thought. ]
That sounds like an intense job. [ He says, finally, fully aware of what a weak response it is, but also aware that Phainon probably isn't expecting any sombre pearls of wisdom from someone like him. ] But I think life-long quests like that nearly always are. In almost every 'hero fights for a new tomorrow' story, there's some element of damn, when does this guy get a day off?
[ He looks up at Phainon again, trying to imagine that sweet little face leading a fantastical elven army or guiding refugees into Helm's Deep or facing off against something massive and seemingly impossible to kill. He himself could never do something like that, coward that he is, so he isn't surprised when he feels the already steadily brewing admiration he feels for Phainon gain a different hue. ]
I guess this is your day off, technically, right? Though, I dunno how you compare fighting off an evil soul stealing storm with having to fuck for the masses as your day job.
[ Phainon does laugh gently at that, because it's true. Being here has been some kind of relief from the endless battle and millions of lifetimes, even if it comes hand in hand with its own difficulties. Admitting that feels wrong, as if he is shirking his duty somehow, and he shakes his head as he takes a bite of his own meal, letting Cat's voice settle over him, as if soothing some of the aches of remembering the world he had left behind; the world he had loved so, so deeply.
It is intense. It's hard. He does not know how he lived - and technically, he didn't. He remembers his own deaths like greeting an old friend, and that's such a morose thing that he has to shake the thoughts away, a small smile resting on his face as he looks back over at the other man, the indulgence of good company and decent food. ]
There are many of us, and only some are chosen to inherit the Coreflame. We share the duty, because we love our homes and our people. [ Waving his hand, he grins, trying to play his destiny off as nothing when, in fact, it is everything. He chose this, kept choosing it, millions of times, and he has accepted the raw, ashen feeling inside of him that comes hand in hand with that decision. ] But we're permitted more time to rest than you might think!
[ Absently, he nudges Cat's foot under the table with his own. ]
I'm not - not with masses! [ The embarrassment is prickling on his face. ] Thus far, I've only had two repeat performances.
[ The Cat's claws are curled rather politely in where he rests his chin on them as he chews, watching Phainon the way one might watch a fish swimming idly around a pool, with thoughts full of wonder for what such a life so very different from one's own must be like, but as he listens he can't help but flex them slightly, kneading the air, expelling some small amount of the desire in him to sink them into a man so honourable and selfless.
He can relate only to doing what he does because he cares for his home and his people, because part of the reason he's here in the first place is for the sake of his Kingdom, but the rest of it is selfish and pales in comparison to the likes of the heroes and fighters and innocents he's met in his time here so far. He could have done so much more with his wish, he knows, but it's a little too late for that now.
The little knock of his foot is a twofold distraction, as it both shakes him bodily from those more morose lines of thinking, and reminds him of the last time they were sat across a table from each other. Only that time, they weren't sharing an almost romantic dinner, and were instead pretending to give a shit about cards while they eye fucked each other. Well, the Cat was certainly eye-fucking. He's not sure what Phainon made of him back then, intense as he was. ]
Oh, yeah? In that case, I'm flattered. [ And he looks it, tilting his chin up more like a bird preening it's feathers than a cat. Finishing another mouthful â he hasn't even realised how readily he's eating, how eager he is for more because this meal tastes just as good as it looks â he switches his fork for his glass, taking a sip of wine and savouring it before he speaks. ]
I think I can guess who the other is. [ His eyes scan idly around the apartment, his foot gently bumping Phainon's in return under the table. ] Or do I have to get you more drunk to talk about things like that?
[ Phainon thinks, absently, that he likes looking at Cat.
Observing people is something he's needed to do in his lifetimes, and he likes being able to pick things out about people, to learn a little more about them from how they move. The flex of his fingers is familiar now, not just from him but Cipher, too, catlike beings that are dear to him. His body moves, luxuriating in his own existence, and Phainon follows the shape of him as he listens, watching, memorising.
They're going to spend more time together, that he's confident in, and Phainon is nothing if not a man dedicated to taking care of those who have become important to him, who are special enough to him that he would lay his life down. It's true that he might not be at that level with the Cat just yet, but his affection burns all the same, and he feels warm with it, his smile in place as he tries not to be too mortified by the line of questioning things have shifted to.
Is it easier than talking about his own life? Maybe.
Their feet bump, and he laughs softly, almost shy with it. ]
It's easier to do things with friends, I suppose. [ Is his affection for Mydeimos that obvious? It must be - or it's just that they share an apartment, and they're so intimately connected that it's clear to anyone stepping inside that they're close friends. Phainon can admit that he has found intimacy with Mydei easier simply because of their previous friendship, the bond of trust and respect already there. It's harder to develop that kind of thing with strangers.
[ That shy little laugh truly is maddening. If he's being honest with himself, he teases only to find the boundaries he can safely luxuriate in, and along that line of thinking he'd wondered if Phainon might be more closed off about more personal things, only giving Cat scraps either to keep him sated or to keep him keen (though he doesn't need any help with the latter), but he's being surprisingly open to all the Cat's lines of questioning so far. Granted, he could be lying or keeping much more back than what he's letting slip, but the Cat can't sense any great mistruths from him, so as far as he's concerned Phainon is being genuine.
Is it because he's an open person? The Cat doubts it. He'd shared a few things at the ball, but had been mysterious for the most part, though that could have been more to do with the fact that they were too preoccupied getting to know one another physically to do any real groundwork there. So, is it what he says, that it's easier to talk with friends? Does he consider the Cat a friend? Easier to be honest, with your friends? ]
Is it...? [ He hums, glancing down to fill another fork, taking a drawn-out moment to slip the utensil between his lips, chewing and swallowing, before continuing. He wouldn't know, having few of them to speak of, and the ones he does have he has... complicated feelings about. But not about having sex with them. That he could do all day. So he supposes Phainon has a point. ]
I'd argue sometimes the anonymity is a little safer, but on the other hand, if I have to explain to someone the whole Cat King without a real name shapeshifting spirit thing one more time, I might eat my own tail. [ His eyes are warm when they look up at Phainon. ] But there's an appeal to knowing what someone likes without having to guess. I forgot what that was like.
[ The bump of their feet turns to a slide of the Cat's ankle around one of Phainon's, something a little softer than a tease but more sultry than outright affection. For now, at least. ]
[ Phainon knows he keeps many secrets, and tucks too many away, deep inside himself, for all of them to come out. There are some things he doesn't mind sharing. It's like trying to lure a wild animal closer, offering just enough to get their interest, to make them want to come closer, but not so much that you end up hurt. He's cautious with the depth of who he is, all the things that scar him even now, but offers what he can to make a friendship, a relationship, bear fruit.
Their feet continue to touch, connected, and the physical contact seems to please Phainon if the way he relaxes is anything to go by, idly playing around with the touch as he tries to find the right words.
Talking about any of the Chrysos Heirs is hard, knowing what he has done to them, but speaking of Mydeimos is often one of the more difficult. It isn't simply due to their close connection, or their friendship, or the budding intimacy of this world, but of the knowledge of what Phainon had done. Millions of lifetimes, being granted the whisper of Mydeimos' one weakness, using it against him time and time again to kill him, steal the life of an immortal, Undying man.
It is a hard grief to work around, to rationalise, and he struggles to keep it in check, even now.
Nodding, he smiles, forcing himself to lean into the positive rather than the negative. ]
That's what I've found. I've enjoyed discovering more about myself, but it's easier to do that when I already trust the person I am with.
[ Such as when Cat had come to his room, pinned him, fucked him and left him sobbing from desperation. That had been borne of some kind of trust, some measure of friendship. ]
Mydeimos is the prince of a nation called Castrum Kremnos. He is a proud warrior, and devoted to his people, but remains kind in spite of it all. He and I were rather close to being rivals when we first met, but I'd happily call him one of my best friends, now.
[ Naturally, Phainon's words make him think of that time, too. The Cat's room had been far too quiet, the absence of purring bodies far too loud, and he'd pressed his fingers into a bite mark that had faded days ago, scooped up his phone and texted Phainon without any expectation that he'd be permitted to do the things he did to him within the hour. No less, that he'd be able to stay afterwards and let himself bask in each affectionate kiss and little huff of breath across his skin. Phainon had opened up like a flower to him, had clung to him like he was a lifeline, had smiled at him... The Cat is well aware of the fact that his smile is the first thing he thinks about when he thinks back to that night. Closely followed by his whispered thanks, and his quiet cursing.
Phainon had trusted him then, to treat him well even as he shoved him right up against the brink, and the feeling was a gratifying one. Even more so now with the reminder, said so casually over dinner. It makes the Cat want to repeat the steps he'd performed at the ball; forget the meal on the table and climb right into Phainon's lap. Prove to himself it's real. Give Phainon even more reason to believe that he's earned that trust.
But, as he inhales, exhales, lets the prickle of anticipation make a sharp fist of his claws, he wants to do this right. Is it thanks for inviting him over? Thanks for not delving too deep into the content of that stupid post? Thanks for liking him enough to let him hit it more than once, when the pool of people with that privilege is so small? Or is it just his romantic heart enjoying something simmering for once, rather than forcing the heat and making it boil before he gets a chance to want it too badly? ]
Ahhh, I see. Now I get it. Now it makes sense.
[ He says, wagging his finger at Phainon, smile easy and wide, scooping up the last morsel of his meal before sitting back in his chair, wine cradled in his hand, the very rim of the glass poised against his mouth. He looks smug, like he's cracked a particularly difficult puzzle, when really he's just found a tease too delicious to resist. ]
[ Phainon isn't used to letting people that close to him, not in the strange, emotional-physical way that had come from the sex he'd shared with Cat not too long ago. When he had been in the bath with Mydeimos it had felt like a punishment and forgiveness all at once, but being stretched and taken in his own room, surrounded by the other man, had been different to that. It might just be a weakness of his too broken heart, too ready to be gentle with anyone who shows him kindness, sweetness, trust.
He had trusted the Trailblazer in the same way, offering his life and his hopes for them to bear.
It might be that Cat is simply the perfect kind of person to sneak under his skin and steal the breath from him, without him even being conscious of it.
Even now, sitting together and finishing a simple meal, he can feel the buzz of tension between them, the anticipation. There doesn't have to be more, and he doesn't expect every meeting he has with Cat to turn into something sexual, but the knowledge that it could is heady, too. They're comfortable enough with one another that one thing could lead to the next, and Phainon wouldn't be too offended. He would enjoy himself, and they'd get closer to their wishes.
The finger waggle makes him laugh, and he leans back in his chair, cradling his drink.
Putting the pieces together... Mydeimos, Cat King and Zelda? It's not looking that good for him or any protests he might try to offer. ]
Not consciously!
[ The protest is weak, though, as he smiles behind his glass, taking another long drink. ]
Maybe there are just too many royals here that it was bound to happen.
[ He gets a strange sense of accomplishment from making Phainon laugh, as if all these little reactions are prizes to be won and ones he covets, whether it be the unfocused gleam of his eyes or the flush on his cheeks, or these little smiles that make it impossible to imagine he isn't more than content with his current company. And, strangely enough, the Cat is just as content in return. It isn't that he's particularly disliked on the regular, or that he couldn't find someone to spend time with if he really wanted to, he just so happens to have very recently come out of a rather long spell of convincing himself he didn't need anyone else in his life but his cats and his psycho witch on-off situationship. So it's been a while since he was anything even close to content.
The fact that he's found it here, in the kitchen of a shared apartment, on a dinner date for the first time in who knows how many years, with a man he's bitten almost as many times as he's kissed, who looks at him with warmth and unrestrained affection, who he will almost definitely get to kiss (at the very least) before he leaves... is not what he expected to find in this place. But he definitely isn't complaining. He'll only do that later when he realises how his heart aches for it once he's back home.
At the sound of Phainon's protest, his eyes tighten for a moment but then relax almost as quickly. ]
You have a point, actually. Before I came here, I hadn't seen another monarch of any kind for hundreds of years. But it looks like this place is crawling with them.
[ He smirks, taking a good mouthful of his wine and cleaning a stray drop that may or may not have existed in the first place off his scarred lip with his tongue. ]
[ Phainon's eyes follow the movement of the Cat's hand, gazing at his lips once more, before he shakes his head and leans back. It's nice to lounge, to relax, to allow himself a moment of reprieve between everything else. So many things still chase his heels, and he knows they will come back to haunt him eventually, but for now he has carved himself a little hour or two of contentment. Good food and good company eases some of the strain, and he can't ask for more.
Not now, at least, though if Cat keeps looking at him the way he does, the smirk, the teasing, all of it together, he thinks he might fold faster than he would like, and that would be embarrassing in its own right. It's not like Cat isn't aware of how much Phainon would indulge with him, but he doesn't want to make it so obvious it's embarrassing, or boring or worse.
He enjoys his company, not just for his hands or what he can do with the rest of his shape, but because he is good at talking. It can be both.
Humming, he shakes his head. ]
Mydeimos was the only royal I had really met. Even monarchs have wishes!
[ Tilting his head, he smiles again, fond, puppyish. The words come to him easily, and he tries to stop staring, being obvious about it all. ]
Would you prefer I call you that? My king? Your majesty? [ His cheeks are a touch warm. ] It wouldn't offend.
[ Monarchs certainly do have wishes, and the Cat King wonders what others of his kind might have wished for in his stead. Perhaps they'd be as selfish as him. Perhaps they'd go full feline uprising. Perhaps they'd scoff at the idea that a Cat King might need anyone's help to see what they want fulfilled and turn the offer away completely. The lack of any others of his kind is as loud here as it is at home.
He's enjoying the comfort too, settling into his seat and only wishing idly that they were sitting somewhere he could press a thigh or an arm against Phainon's body, in the way cats tend to do when they're content to sit and not be disturbed. The last place they'd been close like that was Phainon's bed, and is suddenly very aware of the path through the apartment to get to it. He feels like suggesting it, however, might suggest the wrong idea. Or the right one.
When Phainon asks him such a sweet question with all the innocence of a puppy tilting its head at the idea of being scooped up for a walk, the Cat finds himself laughing; the sound is warm, helplessly endeared, but the look in his eyes reads hunger. ]
You have no idea how many people I've suggested that title to. Not one has taken me up on it, unless it's as a joke.
[ Your majesty is one thing. He almost likes it when a certain few people use it, less like a taunt but more like a pet name than a title... But my King. My King, my king, my king. He could tell Phainon to repeat that again and again and the Cat knows that he would. Dangerous. Dangerous and tempting. ]
Call me whatever you want when the mood takes you, puppy. It's all the same to me.
[ If he says it out loud, he might even believe it. ]
[ Phainon is well aware his own wish isn't necessarily for himself, and he has yet to learn about any of the wishes of his peers here. It's hard to think about, when he had spent so many cycles, so many lifetimes not being able to conceive of one to begin with; he's not sure what else he would ask for, outside the one thing he desires the most. It seems too private to poke and prod and demand for other people to tell him what their dreams are, especially when he would be so unwilling to share his own.
It doesn't stop him from wondering all the same, curious and thoughtful before he nudges it aside, to focus on the here and now.
The conversation can continue as he tidies up, so he stands, reluctantly untangling their feet, gathering the plates and taking them back to the kitchen to leave in the sink. He grabs the bottle of wine on the way back, moving to lean against the table and smile down at Cat as he does, placing the bottle between them. It's there, if he wants it, but if he has found his limit that is also fine as well. Phainon isn't going to be the type of host that bothers his guests into matching or not matching his own pace.
Instead, he focuses on replying, smile widening. ]
I wouldn't mean it as a joke.
[ But, he suspects Cat knows that.
Gaze set, blue eyes almost smouldering, as if that inner fire is there ready to blaze openly and widely, Phainon tilts his head. ]
I might save it for the more special moments.
[ There's something particularly alluring about the idea of being on his knees, whispering my king as he shows Cat what he is able to do with his mouth. ]
[ The Cat is already well aware of how he likes to watch Phainon move. He has an elegance to him that speaks of his might, his surety in his strength and the power in his limbs, even for something as simple as tidying up a table. He's enticing, despite the mundane action, and makes it all the more interesting for his involvement. If the Cat weren't well aware of how his heart can so easily make him tender over those he's only spent a handful of interactions with, he might blame the wine. But if he were drunk, he'd be sensible enough to take his leave before this gets any worse. He's not, and he won't.
Instead, he reaches for the bottle as he stands, tilting his head in a parroting of Phainon's own movement while also having to tip it up slightly to look at him, wondering what he's thinking about. Wondering if he'd tell him if he asked. ]
I'm looking forward to finding out what you'll deem a special moment.
[ He says, the curve of a mysterious smile twisting his mouth as he nods, turning his head to the rest of the apartment he's wilfully ignored until now. ]
I was wondering if we'd move this to a couch, but then I thought that you and bestie might have replaced all reasonably comfortable furniture with a home gym setup to keep looking the way you do. [ He's putting a huff into his voice, but the root truth of his words is that he's very vividly aware of how good Phainon looks physically, even without focusing on his pretty little face. ] I thought it a little cruel to remind you of what you might be missing out on. My whole apartment is basically one big couch by comparion.
[ Phainon had never really cared about himself when other people were involved, and thatâs translated well into this world. Preparing meals, offering his time, his things, his touch and support, it all comes naturally. When his heart is warm now, itâs not from the endless ache of Coreflames burning him from the inside out, no longer able to be contained, but from the knowledge of affection and comfort that comes hand in hand with being with people he finds himself wanting to protect.
He follows after Cat, his eyes soft as he shakes his head. ]
I try to use the gym when itâs quieter, so people are less inclined to comment on what Iâm doing. Mydeimos and I spar often, and I like to run in the mornings.
[ Phainon is particularly passionate about the sunrises he gets to see, the way it makes him painfully happy to witness each one. He never thought heâd get a chase to enjoy something as simple as that. A new day, rather than an endless one.
Motioning to the sofa, he sits. He wonders if Cat sit near, or far, or even on top of him. He wonât mind either way.
Slowly, his smile widens. ]
That sounds like youâre inviting me to see your apartment, Cat.
[ He doesn't feel even the slightest lick of surprise that Phainon uses the gym and runs and spars. He finds it horribly attractive, too, obviously. For the same reason he finds most things he's never touched a paw on attractive: his utter fascination with those interacting with them. He probably would have given detective novels a go if Edwin had stuck around any longer. Him and his poor stupid lack of a sense of self unless framed by his desire. ]
Does it? [ He says, amused, circling the other side of the couch and moving to sit at Phainon's side in an almost polite way, before almost immediately backtracking and throwing his legs over his lap as though he owns it. Typical Cat behaviour. ] I can't think what you'd want to see it for. Like I said. Basically one big couch. And there's nowhere near as much room in it as you've got here.
[ Due to the fact it's basically one room and he went on an almost rampage to find as many soft things as he could to pile onto the bed within the first few days of his arrival and... has not done anything with them since. Not having pocket dimensions here is a pain. ]
I guess there is a pretty cute cat in it, though.
[ He shrugs, then his smile goes pointed, as he takes a sip from the mouth of the bottle, before holding it out. So much for his earlier manners. ]
As soon as those legs are on his lap, heâs reaching down to rest his hands on them. His fingers brush idly over the shape of his shin, before one slides down to rest against his ankle. Itâs nice, comforting in a way, to stroke his finger there, to touch the other manâs warm skin as they talk, and enjoy the intimacy. Itâs not the same as en embrace, or being curled up together, but it remains sweet.
Tilting his head, he listens to the other man speak before he smiles wider. ]
You canât think of a single reason why Iâd want to visit your home?
[ Even if it wasnât for a sexual reason, Phainon would want to see where his friend lives, spend time with him. This evening has proven how well they can get along, even outside of the bedroom, and he hopes that Cat realises it. He hopes that the man knows he doesnât just want him for the sultry way he speaks or the taste of his mouth, but for all the other parts, too.
It is painfully, only being one thing in the eyes of others. He knows.
Taking the bottle, he laughs a little, squeezing Catâs ankle as he lets himself take his own drink, an indirect kiss of sorts. ]
I hope youâll let me visit, one day. To see Vyvyan, right?
[ He'd been teasing, mostly. He'd been acting playful and in the back of his mind thinking that Phainon might very well just be being polite, continuing the conversation the way normal people do, the way friendships are supposed to ebb and flow between two people finding they get on well aside from giving each other mind-shattering orgasms. But he'd also been considering potentially having a little tidy-up just in case he was being serious.
It isn't until Phainon asks, with that maddeningly attractive curious dog-like head tilt, that the Cat feels the reality of it slide into place in his chest. It says, without the need to say it (though he's sure the two of them will find any excuse to compliment each other about it before the night is over) that this evening has been a success, that Phainon has enjoyed himself, and that he'd like to do it again. The Cat had all but promised to bend him over the table during their text conversation, and he'll still happily do that, but the fact it's not pinned to his worth as company is... it's good. It's nice.
If Simon hadn't very recently reassured him (kind of) of the very same thing, he might be having a Moment right now. But, luckily for Phainon, the Cat can be very cool about this. ]
[ It's quite endearing, to be the person making someone else blush for the first time in a little while, and Phainon finds himself enjoying the fact that he's been able to do it for someone who is as flirtatious as the Cat is. It's not as though he had imagined him entirely immune to the sentiment, but the slight reversal of their roles makes him feel a little bit of giddiness, like winning.
Mydeimos had once said that Phainon enjoyed fighting because he was able to turn his mind off, to let his thoughts settle on the singular focus of raising his blade and cutting down any enemy. Being in this world, his singular focus is, instead, on making their wishes come true, so he is trying a little harder. He is being more flirtatious, more deliberate, less cautious, and while it might come to bite him later...
For now, he's happy. ]
I'll warn you beforehand, don't worry!
[ The blush is endearing, and Phainon wants to touch it, to feel the real, human warmth of it, but he barely resists. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bully him more cat
And, so... ]
You mentioned not being excited about a salad. I decided to try something a little new?
[ What comes out of the oven is some decently cooked salmon, with some fish cakes on the side to add to the meal. There is an option for some salad to go with it, a light bowl on the counter, but it's obvious that the cooked things are the star of the meal. Placing it down and putting the oven gloves aside, Phainon smiles. ]
I hope it's okay?
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He smiles, genuinely impressed, and comes over to get both a closer look and a better smell, nose twitching in interest. ]
This is more than okay. I won't lie to you, I was honestly thinking your cooking skills would be more like a kid who just left home than anything else, but this looks great.
[ Is it weird to be a little touched? Well, he is. Even if this invite is one he wormed his way into, it's still nice to be treated in this way. He definitely didn't think they'd end up here when he'd watched Phainon sit across the table from him at the ball. Not that he's complaining. ]
Though, I guess if you're cooking for your friends a lot, you must at least be decent at it. The alternative is just sad.
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Cat comes closer, and Phainon leans into him a little, pleased. ]
I've been away from home for years, Cat! I know how to cook.
[ He's only pouting a little. Just a little!
Grabbing some plates, he smiles fondly. ]
Let's eat, shall we?
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He nods, taking a plate out of Phainon's hand, and yes, he takes the opportunity to touch his fingers because he can't resist a good cliche. And also touching Phainon, he can't resist that either. ]
The length of time you've been away from home doesn't count for shit. I've been alive for thousands of years, and I've never learned to cook.
[ Something something lack of opportunity. Cat could have learned if he'd had the drive to do it, but when you're an incredibly lonely Cat Monarch who thrives in your small town on the mystery of your origin and have very few people you're willing to show any vulnerability to, including the inability to feed yourself beyond the easy-to-acquire cans in your cannery.... it's a tough thing to coordinate. He takes the liberty of serving himself first, then sits himself at the dining table. At least he's got the manners to wait for Phainon to start tucking in. ]
How many years is 'years'? How long have you been away from home for?
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[ It's said gently, though, a tease rather than a scold, especially as their fingers brush as they move together to get their food. Phainon lets him take as much as he likes (the meal is for him, after all) before he puts his plates down and grabs some drinks for them both. It's tempting to make some kind of tease about cats and milk, but he decides that sort of joke is better saved for later.
Leaning back in his chair, he's about to start on a fishcake when the question comes, and he stills, briefly.
There's a real answer to the question, and a technical one, and he's not sure which one to give. Eventually, using the excuse of chewing food to give himself time to think, he finds one that works. ]
It's been more than a decade now, at least. [ Which is very true. ] I became a soldier, and then arrived in a city, Okhema, and began work as a Chrysos Heir.
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At Phainon's answer, he can't help the little focused flex of his catlike pupils, wider and then tighter, as if they're a lens focusing in and magnifying the response. He's under no assumption that Phainon's world is anything like his own and he's no stranger either to those who are much older than they look, and he already knows that Phainon was/is a soldier, but... ]
What are you fighting? If you're a soldier, there's gotta be some big bad, doesn't there? Otherwise there'd be nothing to fight. [ He slips what fish is on his fork into his mouth, then points it at Phainon with the prongs. ] Actually. Let me guess. [ Chewing. Thinking. ] Chrysos makes me think... gold. Because of the flowers, right? So, are you beating back darkness, or something dramatic like that?
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Leaning back in his chair, he hums softly. There's wine in their glasses, now, a light, simple one, and he sips at it as he tries to find the right words to explain it all, to dance around the truth with enough care that the Cat won't have to worry himself overmuch. ]
Gold blood. That is the mark of a Chrysos Heir. [ That's one explanation out of the way, at least. ] It is our duty to fight against the Black Tide, an oncoming storm that steals people's souls and leaves monsters in their wake. If we're unable to stop it, then it will consume our entire world. As an Heir, we are destined to inherit the Coreflame of a Titan and use those powers to stop the Tide, and bring a new Dawn to Amphoreus.
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That sounds like an intense job. [ He says, finally, fully aware of what a weak response it is, but also aware that Phainon probably isn't expecting any sombre pearls of wisdom from someone like him. ] But I think life-long quests like that nearly always are. In almost every 'hero fights for a new tomorrow' story, there's some element of damn, when does this guy get a day off?
[ He looks up at Phainon again, trying to imagine that sweet little face leading a fantastical elven army or guiding refugees into Helm's Deep or facing off against something massive and seemingly impossible to kill. He himself could never do something like that, coward that he is, so he isn't surprised when he feels the already steadily brewing admiration he feels for Phainon gain a different hue. ]
I guess this is your day off, technically, right? Though, I dunno how you compare fighting off an evil soul stealing storm with having to fuck for the masses as your day job.
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It is intense. It's hard. He does not know how he lived - and technically, he didn't. He remembers his own deaths like greeting an old friend, and that's such a morose thing that he has to shake the thoughts away, a small smile resting on his face as he looks back over at the other man, the indulgence of good company and decent food. ]
There are many of us, and only some are chosen to inherit the Coreflame. We share the duty, because we love our homes and our people. [ Waving his hand, he grins, trying to play his destiny off as nothing when, in fact, it is everything. He chose this, kept choosing it, millions of times, and he has accepted the raw, ashen feeling inside of him that comes hand in hand with that decision. ] But we're permitted more time to rest than you might think!
[ Absently, he nudges Cat's foot under the table with his own. ]
I'm not - not with masses! [ The embarrassment is prickling on his face. ] Thus far, I've only had two repeat performances.
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He can relate only to doing what he does because he cares for his home and his people, because part of the reason he's here in the first place is for the sake of his Kingdom, but the rest of it is selfish and pales in comparison to the likes of the heroes and fighters and innocents he's met in his time here so far. He could have done so much more with his wish, he knows, but it's a little too late for that now.
The little knock of his foot is a twofold distraction, as it both shakes him bodily from those more morose lines of thinking, and reminds him of the last time they were sat across a table from each other. Only that time, they weren't sharing an almost romantic dinner, and were instead pretending to give a shit about cards while they eye fucked each other. Well, the Cat was certainly eye-fucking. He's not sure what Phainon made of him back then, intense as he was. ]
Oh, yeah? In that case, I'm flattered. [ And he looks it, tilting his chin up more like a bird preening it's feathers than a cat. Finishing another mouthful â he hasn't even realised how readily he's eating, how eager he is for more because this meal tastes just as good as it looks â he switches his fork for his glass, taking a sip of wine and savouring it before he speaks. ]
I think I can guess who the other is. [ His eyes scan idly around the apartment, his foot gently bumping Phainon's in return under the table. ] Or do I have to get you more drunk to talk about things like that?
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Observing people is something he's needed to do in his lifetimes, and he likes being able to pick things out about people, to learn a little more about them from how they move. The flex of his fingers is familiar now, not just from him but Cipher, too, catlike beings that are dear to him. His body moves, luxuriating in his own existence, and Phainon follows the shape of him as he listens, watching, memorising.
They're going to spend more time together, that he's confident in, and Phainon is nothing if not a man dedicated to taking care of those who have become important to him, who are special enough to him that he would lay his life down. It's true that he might not be at that level with the Cat just yet, but his affection burns all the same, and he feels warm with it, his smile in place as he tries not to be too mortified by the line of questioning things have shifted to.
Is it easier than talking about his own life? Maybe.
Their feet bump, and he laughs softly, almost shy with it. ]
It's easier to do things with friends, I suppose. [ Is his affection for Mydeimos that obvious? It must be - or it's just that they share an apartment, and they're so intimately connected that it's clear to anyone stepping inside that they're close friends. Phainon can admit that he has found intimacy with Mydei easier simply because of their previous friendship, the bond of trust and respect already there. It's harder to develop that kind of thing with strangers.
Glancing away, he smiles. ]
I'll be honest with you, Cat.
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Is it because he's an open person? The Cat doubts it. He'd shared a few things at the ball, but had been mysterious for the most part, though that could have been more to do with the fact that they were too preoccupied getting to know one another physically to do any real groundwork there. So, is it what he says, that it's easier to talk with friends? Does he consider the Cat a friend? Easier to be honest, with your friends? ]
Is it...? [ He hums, glancing down to fill another fork, taking a drawn-out moment to slip the utensil between his lips, chewing and swallowing, before continuing. He wouldn't know, having few of them to speak of, and the ones he does have he has... complicated feelings about. But not about having sex with them. That he could do all day. So he supposes Phainon has a point. ]
I'd argue sometimes the anonymity is a little safer, but on the other hand, if I have to explain to someone the whole Cat King without a real name shapeshifting spirit thing one more time, I might eat my own tail. [ His eyes are warm when they look up at Phainon. ] But there's an appeal to knowing what someone likes without having to guess. I forgot what that was like.
[ The bump of their feet turns to a slide of the Cat's ankle around one of Phainon's, something a little softer than a tease but more sultry than outright affection. For now, at least. ]
So it's your roomie, hm? Tell me about him.
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Their feet continue to touch, connected, and the physical contact seems to please Phainon if the way he relaxes is anything to go by, idly playing around with the touch as he tries to find the right words.
Talking about any of the Chrysos Heirs is hard, knowing what he has done to them, but speaking of Mydeimos is often one of the more difficult. It isn't simply due to their close connection, or their friendship, or the budding intimacy of this world, but of the knowledge of what Phainon had done. Millions of lifetimes, being granted the whisper of Mydeimos' one weakness, using it against him time and time again to kill him, steal the life of an immortal, Undying man.
It is a hard grief to work around, to rationalise, and he struggles to keep it in check, even now.
Nodding, he smiles, forcing himself to lean into the positive rather than the negative. ]
That's what I've found. I've enjoyed discovering more about myself, but it's easier to do that when I already trust the person I am with.
[ Such as when Cat had come to his room, pinned him, fucked him and left him sobbing from desperation. That had been borne of some kind of trust, some measure of friendship. ]
Mydeimos is the prince of a nation called Castrum Kremnos. He is a proud warrior, and devoted to his people, but remains kind in spite of it all. He and I were rather close to being rivals when we first met, but I'd happily call him one of my best friends, now.
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Phainon had trusted him then, to treat him well even as he shoved him right up against the brink, and the feeling was a gratifying one. Even more so now with the reminder, said so casually over dinner. It makes the Cat want to repeat the steps he'd performed at the ball; forget the meal on the table and climb right into Phainon's lap. Prove to himself it's real. Give Phainon even more reason to believe that he's earned that trust.
But, as he inhales, exhales, lets the prickle of anticipation make a sharp fist of his claws, he wants to do this right. Is it thanks for inviting him over? Thanks for not delving too deep into the content of that stupid post? Thanks for liking him enough to let him hit it more than once, when the pool of people with that privilege is so small? Or is it just his romantic heart enjoying something simmering for once, rather than forcing the heat and making it boil before he gets a chance to want it too badly? ]
Ahhh, I see. Now I get it. Now it makes sense.
[ He says, wagging his finger at Phainon, smile easy and wide, scooping up the last morsel of his meal before sitting back in his chair, wine cradled in his hand, the very rim of the glass poised against his mouth. He looks smug, like he's cracked a particularly difficult puzzle, when really he's just found a tease too delicious to resist. ]
You've got a thing for royalty, haven't you?
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He had trusted the Trailblazer in the same way, offering his life and his hopes for them to bear.
It might be that Cat is simply the perfect kind of person to sneak under his skin and steal the breath from him, without him even being conscious of it.
Even now, sitting together and finishing a simple meal, he can feel the buzz of tension between them, the anticipation. There doesn't have to be more, and he doesn't expect every meeting he has with Cat to turn into something sexual, but the knowledge that it could is heady, too. They're comfortable enough with one another that one thing could lead to the next, and Phainon wouldn't be too offended. He would enjoy himself, and they'd get closer to their wishes.
The finger waggle makes him laugh, and he leans back in his chair, cradling his drink.
Putting the pieces together... Mydeimos, Cat King and Zelda? It's not looking that good for him or any protests he might try to offer. ]
Not consciously!
[ The protest is weak, though, as he smiles behind his glass, taking another long drink. ]
Maybe there are just too many royals here that it was bound to happen.
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The fact that he's found it here, in the kitchen of a shared apartment, on a dinner date for the first time in who knows how many years, with a man he's bitten almost as many times as he's kissed, who looks at him with warmth and unrestrained affection, who he will almost definitely get to kiss (at the very least) before he leaves... is not what he expected to find in this place. But he definitely isn't complaining. He'll only do that later when he realises how his heart aches for it once he's back home.
At the sound of Phainon's protest, his eyes tighten for a moment but then relax almost as quickly. ]
You have a point, actually. Before I came here, I hadn't seen another monarch of any kind for hundreds of years. But it looks like this place is crawling with them.
[ He smirks, taking a good mouthful of his wine and cleaning a stray drop that may or may not have existed in the first place off his scarred lip with his tongue. ]
No Kings though. That still all mine, for now.
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Not now, at least, though if Cat keeps looking at him the way he does, the smirk, the teasing, all of it together, he thinks he might fold faster than he would like, and that would be embarrassing in its own right. It's not like Cat isn't aware of how much Phainon would indulge with him, but he doesn't want to make it so obvious it's embarrassing, or boring or worse.
He enjoys his company, not just for his hands or what he can do with the rest of his shape, but because he is good at talking. It can be both.
Humming, he shakes his head. ]
Mydeimos was the only royal I had really met. Even monarchs have wishes!
[ Tilting his head, he smiles again, fond, puppyish. The words come to him easily, and he tries to stop staring, being obvious about it all. ]
Would you prefer I call you that? My king? Your majesty? [ His cheeks are a touch warm. ] It wouldn't offend.
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He's enjoying the comfort too, settling into his seat and only wishing idly that they were sitting somewhere he could press a thigh or an arm against Phainon's body, in the way cats tend to do when they're content to sit and not be disturbed. The last place they'd been close like that was Phainon's bed, and is suddenly very aware of the path through the apartment to get to it. He feels like suggesting it, however, might suggest the wrong idea. Or the right one.
When Phainon asks him such a sweet question with all the innocence of a puppy tilting its head at the idea of being scooped up for a walk, the Cat finds himself laughing; the sound is warm, helplessly endeared, but the look in his eyes reads hunger. ]
You have no idea how many people I've suggested that title to. Not one has taken me up on it, unless it's as a joke.
[ Your majesty is one thing. He almost likes it when a certain few people use it, less like a taunt but more like a pet name than a title... But my King. My King, my king, my king. He could tell Phainon to repeat that again and again and the Cat knows that he would. Dangerous. Dangerous and tempting. ]
Call me whatever you want when the mood takes you, puppy. It's all the same to me.
[ If he says it out loud, he might even believe it. ]
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It doesn't stop him from wondering all the same, curious and thoughtful before he nudges it aside, to focus on the here and now.
The conversation can continue as he tidies up, so he stands, reluctantly untangling their feet, gathering the plates and taking them back to the kitchen to leave in the sink. He grabs the bottle of wine on the way back, moving to lean against the table and smile down at Cat as he does, placing the bottle between them. It's there, if he wants it, but if he has found his limit that is also fine as well. Phainon isn't going to be the type of host that bothers his guests into matching or not matching his own pace.
Instead, he focuses on replying, smile widening. ]
I wouldn't mean it as a joke.
[ But, he suspects Cat knows that.
Gaze set, blue eyes almost smouldering, as if that inner fire is there ready to blaze openly and widely, Phainon tilts his head. ]
I might save it for the more special moments.
[ There's something particularly alluring about the idea of being on his knees, whispering my king as he shows Cat what he is able to do with his mouth. ]
Shall we sit?
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Instead, he reaches for the bottle as he stands, tilting his head in a parroting of Phainon's own movement while also having to tip it up slightly to look at him, wondering what he's thinking about. Wondering if he'd tell him if he asked. ]
I'm looking forward to finding out what you'll deem a special moment.
[ He says, the curve of a mysterious smile twisting his mouth as he nods, turning his head to the rest of the apartment he's wilfully ignored until now. ]
I was wondering if we'd move this to a couch, but then I thought that you and bestie might have replaced all reasonably comfortable furniture with a home gym setup to keep looking the way you do. [ He's putting a huff into his voice, but the root truth of his words is that he's very vividly aware of how good Phainon looks physically, even without focusing on his pretty little face. ] I thought it a little cruel to remind you of what you might be missing out on. My whole apartment is basically one big couch by comparion.
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He follows after Cat, his eyes soft as he shakes his head. ]
I try to use the gym when itâs quieter, so people are less inclined to comment on what Iâm doing. Mydeimos and I spar often, and I like to run in the mornings.
[ Phainon is particularly passionate about the sunrises he gets to see, the way it makes him painfully happy to witness each one. He never thought heâd get a chase to enjoy something as simple as that. A new day, rather than an endless one.
Motioning to the sofa, he sits. He wonders if Cat sit near, or far, or even on top of him. He wonât mind either way.
Slowly, his smile widens. ]
That sounds like youâre inviting me to see your apartment, Cat.
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Does it? [ He says, amused, circling the other side of the couch and moving to sit at Phainon's side in an almost polite way, before almost immediately backtracking and throwing his legs over his lap as though he owns it. Typical Cat behaviour. ] I can't think what you'd want to see it for. Like I said. Basically one big couch. And there's nowhere near as much room in it as you've got here.
[ Due to the fact it's basically one room and he went on an almost rampage to find as many soft things as he could to pile onto the bed within the first few days of his arrival and... has not done anything with them since. Not having pocket dimensions here is a pain. ]
I guess there is a pretty cute cat in it, though.
[ He shrugs, then his smile goes pointed, as he takes a sip from the mouth of the bottle, before holding it out. So much for his earlier manners. ]
And Vyvyan is there sometimes, too.
[ Heh. ]
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As soon as those legs are on his lap, heâs reaching down to rest his hands on them. His fingers brush idly over the shape of his shin, before one slides down to rest against his ankle. Itâs nice, comforting in a way, to stroke his finger there, to touch the other manâs warm skin as they talk, and enjoy the intimacy. Itâs not the same as en embrace, or being curled up together, but it remains sweet.
Tilting his head, he listens to the other man speak before he smiles wider. ]
You canât think of a single reason why Iâd want to visit your home?
[ Even if it wasnât for a sexual reason, Phainon would want to see where his friend lives, spend time with him. This evening has proven how well they can get along, even outside of the bedroom, and he hopes that Cat realises it. He hopes that the man knows he doesnât just want him for the sultry way he speaks or the taste of his mouth, but for all the other parts, too.
It is painfully, only being one thing in the eyes of others. He knows.
Taking the bottle, he laughs a little, squeezing Catâs ankle as he lets himself take his own drink, an indirect kiss of sorts. ]
I hope youâll let me visit, one day. To see Vyvyan, right?
[ Hehe. ]
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It isn't until Phainon asks, with that maddeningly attractive curious dog-like head tilt, that the Cat feels the reality of it slide into place in his chest. It says, without the need to say it (though he's sure the two of them will find any excuse to compliment each other about it before the night is over) that this evening has been a success, that Phainon has enjoyed himself, and that he'd like to do it again. The Cat had all but promised to bend him over the table during their text conversation, and he'll still happily do that, but the fact it's not pinned to his worth as company is... it's good. It's nice.
If Simon hadn't very recently reassured him (kind of) of the very same thing, he might be having a Moment right now. But, luckily for Phainon, the Cat can be very cool about this. ]
Come over whenever you want.
[ Like, so fucking cool. Is he blushing? ]
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Mydeimos had once said that Phainon enjoyed fighting because he was able to turn his mind off, to let his thoughts settle on the singular focus of raising his blade and cutting down any enemy. Being in this world, his singular focus is, instead, on making their wishes come true, so he is trying a little harder. He is being more flirtatious, more deliberate, less cautious, and while it might come to bite him later...
For now, he's happy. ]
I'll warn you beforehand, don't worry!
[ The blush is endearing, and Phainon wants to touch it, to feel the real, human warmth of it, but he barely resists. ]
I won't drop in unannounced.
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