[ 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 that’s 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, it’s 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 it’s quieter, so people are less inclined to comment on what I’m 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 he’d 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 won’t mind either way.
Slowly, his smile widens. ]
That sounds like you’re 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, he’s 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. It’s nice, comforting in a way, to stroke his finger there, to touch the other man’s warm skin as they talk, and enjoy the intimacy. It’s 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 can’t think of a single reason why I’d want to visit your home?
[ Even if it wasn’t 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 doesn’t 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 Cat’s ankle as he lets himself take his own drink, an indirect kiss of sorts. ]
I hope you’ll 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. ]
[ The Cat rolls his eyes. Because that's what he was worried about, sure. But there's a fond little smile curling his lips as he does it. ]
I said, come over whenever you want. I don't mind.
[ His body is settling comfortably into the feeling of Phainon's hand on his calf, fingers painting idle patterns on his bare skin. He feels warm, even where the cropped hem of his shirt leaves him bare to the elements; the skin there is flushed, from the wine or the comfort or both. He feels good. He's starting to feel like that's just a byproduct of being around Phainon. Or maybe he's just tipsy. ]
You won't find me asking permission every time I use my powers to turn up here. I can do it so easily now that I've been here already. [ He scoops up the bottle from Phainon's grasp, finding it so much easier to lean into teasing and his easy brand of flirtation than he does dwelling on things that make him feel soft and kitten-like. ] Maybe I'll see if curling up in your bed lets me sleep any easier.
[ Phainon's fingers keep idly brushing and playing, enjoying the feeling of warm skin under his touch. It's been a long time since he allowed himself to be tactile, but he's finding comfort in that. After all these years, where his body was burning up from the inside thanks to the 33,550,336 cycles he had lived, and the twelve Coreflames he had taken in each one.
It felt, for a long time, as though his hands were unworthy of such sweet, simple touch.
Laughing softly, he watches Cat with a fond gaze. ]
I'll drop by, in that case.
[ Thumb moving idly, Phainon leans forward, a soft flash of concern settling over his features. ]
Do you have trouble sleeping? If you think it would help, you can come over. I wouldn't mind.
[ That look of concern pulls at the Cat's heart. When was the last time someone looked at him like that? Not for a long while before his arrival here, and then a couple of people he's met in Decadia, who he holds close to his heart but keeps at arm's length out of necessity. Has Phainon become one of those people too?
If he thinks about it, he can imagine it so. He already thinks about him enough, and after tonight it'll be even more difficult to get him off his mind. ]
Mm, maybe I'll do just that then. I'll keep your bed niiiice and warm for you when you get back to it. Or maybe I'll sneak in while you're already snoozing and leech all your warmth.
[ He grins, but he feels like he owes that look some soothing, so he reaches out with the hand that isn't grasping the bottle, and pokes the little crease in Phainon's brow with a claw. ]
I can't shift forms as easily as I can in my own world, and I sleep better as a cat. I just can't get as comfortable. That's all.
[ Phainon pauses for a moment, because he's struck by one very clear thing that he hadn't realised: he can turn into an actual cat?
It should've been obvious, and in hindsight maybe it is. He feels the giggles bubble up from his stomach, and he's taking the hand not brushing idle, silly shapes into the other man's skin, reaching out to grab at the one poking him, thumb against the pulse point before he breathes out, ignoring the way he laughs softly. ]
I'm not laughing at you! I only...
[ He squeezes Cat's wrist. ]
I'm not sure why I didn't realise you were actually a cat, as well.
[ Phainon sounds a little sheepish about it too, shaking his head fondly. ]
[ The Cat frowns a little at the sudden sound of laughter, so it's a good thing Phainon reassures him before the soreness settles in — only... the Cat is very much aware how it hadn't even occurred to him to feel offended, only confused, like he couldn't imagine Phainon would be so cruel and unthinking to him.
He narrows his eyes a bit, but his expression is amused, and when Phainon grabs at his wrist he takes it as an opportunity to shift a little closer in the pantomime of scrutinising him, but in actuality because he just wanted to get close to that face. He looks good when he laughs. He looks good all the time, but the Cat likes him like this the most. Well, maybe not the most. But it's a close second. ]
What, you thought I was just a fruity human tasked with bossing a hundred and forty-six cats around? [ He quirks his eyebrow as if that's a stupid fucking idea when, to an outsider's perspective, that's exactly what his situation looks like. ] I'm a cat first, Phainon. This is a glamour I made myself.
[ Let that one sink in. His smile goes a little flatter. It doesn't disappear completely, but some of the humour certainly dissipates. ]
So if you want to change your mind about bedwarming now, it'd be a good time to do it. Otherwise I'm going to climb into your lap and kiss you.
It's not as though you have spent much time telling me about any of that!
[ A cat first. That's something for him to unpack later, when he's not so caught up in the man next to him.
The truth is that they haven't really spoken in depth about their own histories, their backstories, the things that exist outside the bubbles of their intimacy. In hindsight, he's sure there's probably more that he could have done to bridge that gap, to try and learn a little more about Cat, but isn't that what he's doing now? A nice dinner, conversation, questions to unpick and find out as much as he can.
He isn't cruel, and he isn't unkind, not to those who are not his enemies. Cat King is no enemy, is a friend, growing dearer by the day, and Phainon leans as well, mirroring the slow movement of the man before him. With his legs where they are, they're already close, but it feels as if there's some form of magnet, something keeping them from being too distant with one another.
The hand on the Cat's leg tightens, briefly, and his smile remains small, but soft. ]
Why would I turn you away?
[ Tugging on the wrist, he brings it close, to try and press a kiss to the steady thrum of his pulse. ]
[ True enough. The Cat King doesn't hide who or what he is the same way some might in this place — if Phainon asks, the Cat will answer; if he doesn't offer it up himself before that... it's just that they haven't had much opportunity for conversation before tonight, and the Cat normally lets people know what he is before he goes allowing them into the softer parts of his consideration.
If it changed anything or made Phainon feel strange, it wouldn't be the first time, and the Cat would have simply gone home and never crossed Phainon's path again. Simple. And yet he's full to the brim with the sudden rush of relief that such an outcome isn't one he has to face. He could kiss him. He will kiss him. Especially if he keeps looking at him with that soft smile, pulling his hand close to—
When Phainon kisses his wrist, the Cat's mind goes back to a soft kiss pressed to his cheek, to a fond smile and a soft nod, and remembers the way his heart had slammed in his chest as though it wanted to crawl out and follow the retreating ghost. He'd promised himself he wouldn't do this. But he also thought this wouldn't, couldn't happen to him. Why shouldn't he have it, if it's being offered up to him so readily?
He slides his body forward, brushing his hand away from Phainon's mouth like he's jealous it got there before him, kissing him hard but chastely – just a press of their mouths before he's drawing back so that he can sit in his lap properly. A recreation, almost, of their first meeting. It makes him smile, sharp and pointed, before he leans down to kiss Phainon properly. Their conversation isn't over, he'll make sure of it, but now he just wants to enjoy this. ]
[ Phainon doesn't know what to expect, where things will go. There's a strange gulf between them, unasked questions on the tip of their tongues, and he's not sure what he would say to the ones offered to him. Could he speak of his small, quaint village without crying, knowing it will never come back? Would he be able to whisper more about being an Heir, the Black Tide, without the weight of his grief making him weak and fragile?
In a way, he's glad he doesn't have to think of the answers to those things, glad that he can let his eyes drag over the Cat instead. It makes it easier, as it has done in the past. He can focus instead on his hands, his touch, the solid weight of his body over him, and how warm it makes him feel. How strange it is, to have a friend he cares for, one whose blood has never stained his hands, whose life has never been plundered in the hope of a better future.
Cat King does not know his violence, only his softness, and Phainon wants to keep it that way. Let him never know Khaslana, who had become the Dawn and burned all the love inside himself in the making.
Leaning into the kiss, he smiles, one arm wrapping around Cat's waist to hold him there. It's easier than the one they had shared before, that first idle flirtation becoming something more at the celebration, Phainon less nervous, less shy. He has confidence with the Cat King touching him, kissing and wanting him, knowing he can give and take and be welcomed. He trusts in that, even if his other words are buried somewhere deep inside.
It doesn't need to become sexual, but the desire remains, unable to be resisted.
Phainon keeps the kiss soft, and slow, almost sweet, basking in the heat of it. He smiles into it, his other hand sliding to the Cat's waist, to find the soft skin there and pet it, to let his fingers find his warmth and grasp onto it. It makes his chilled fingers feel better - cold to him, but likely not to anyone else, the loss of his Coreflames making all his limbs feel frozen. ]
[ The Cat tucks the bottle in his other hand between the seat cushions so that he can get both of his hands to Phainon's jaw. This position, too, is familiar; though instead of having Phainon folded beneath him mid-fuck, he's simply holding him close because it feels good and comfortable to do it. But it isn't all that far removed. Back then, he'd wanted to hold him close to cling to the moment, knowing that it was soon to end and wishing he could stay basking in the way it felt. For the pleasure of it, yes, but for the closeness too. Now, Phainon is just as pliant underneath him, but he's different too. So content to be kissed and to kiss him back, smiling against him, touching him. It's slower, less urgent, non-specific in the direction it's heading.
The Cat loves to kiss, could happily get lost in it for without so much as thinking of resurfacing, and honestly hadn't realised how much he truly missed it until he arrived in this place where physicality means everything and kissing is its own gateway drug. But he could get used to this soft directionless kind. Climbing into Phainon's bed to kiss him like this. Waking him in the morning with a kiss like this. Finding him out in the city to pull him onto a bench somewhere and kiss him, just like this. Perhaps he'll even catch him at the gym and lick the sweat off his top lip before kissing him goodbye. All stupid, ridiculous, romantic things that he's never let himself think about except in private, painful moments like these. Things he hurts himself on purpose by wanting.
He imagined them with Edwin, with Simon, and look how that turned out. But Phainon kisses him back. Phainon wants him here, with him. So... Perhaps he can covet this, in his own way, in his own mind. Perhaps this can be his and his alone.
He parts their mouths only to breathe, lifting his paws to slide appraisingly back through Phainon's soft hair, two handfuls of pale locks the way one might pet an eager dog. He laughs, soft and affectionate. ]
I could kiss you for hours. [ He heaves a dramatic sigh. ] How am I going to get anything done now...
[ Before arriving here, Phainon hadn't been someone inclined to decadence, to letting himself indulge beyond more than what was needed. He had a singular focus, a carefully fostered desire, to enact vengeance upon the Black Tide and to honour the village and friends he carried in his heart. Inheriting the cycles did nothing to stop that, the bitterness real and sharp inside him, and the facade he wears, the mask that is half himself and half not, has settled onto him in this world with ease.
Below all the horror and the nightmare is the boy who wanted to be a hero, the man who raised his blade to the sky and swore to become the world's Deliverer. It feels further away at times, and too close to his heart at others, but Phainon is recognising the parts of himself that are one or the other. Phainon, a farm boy turned soldier; Khaslana, the manifestation of hate. They're both part of him now, and he is slowly coming to terms with it, accepting, understand, refusing to falter.
Pulling Cat a little tighter, he hums into the kiss, tilting into the touch of his hands, enjoying the echo of his laugh. The apartment is theirs, with no one to bother them for at least a little while, and he wants to enjoy this. There's freedom in that laugh, and something real under it, something that makes his chest feel tight and his cheeks feel hot, hands keen to touch and take and anchor. Admitting to a desire is hard, nigh impossible for Phainon, but the more time he spends here the easier it feels.
Their noses nudge, and his smile widens into a grin, tilting his head and watching the other man fondly. ]
Did you make plans for after our dinner? Should I be offended?
[ Tilting up, he noses at the Cat's jaw, brushing his mouth against the sharp edge of it, teasing, enjoying the feeling of being close. ]
[ His eyes flash, amused. ] Greedy, puppy. No, nothing like that, but I can't spend every hour of every day thinking about your mouth. That really would be indulgent.
[ He lets the implication that he's spent any time at all prior to this meeting thinking about Phainon's mouth go unspoken, because not only should it be obvious that he has, given the texts he sent Phainon recently, but he's a little embarrassed at how much he's been thinking about it, amongst other things. ]
But I've always been bad at showing resistance. I want too much to hold myself back from it. And you, puppy, you're much too sweet to resist.
[ Is he convincing himself he simply had no chance not falling into things this honey trap of a man? Was he doomed from the start by his big eyes and his gentle face? His apprehension turned burning need that the Cat can relate to so succinctly, if not in the exact same way Phainon feels it? Who knows. But, as he smooths his hand through his hair again, tilting his head ever so slightly to watch it pass through his claws, he thinks it might not be so bad. He's survived before, he'll survive again. ]
But I feel like I should get a few more revelations out of the way before I get too carried away with you, and you answered so many of my questions before, so... Is there anything you want to ask me?
[ It would be easy to make a comment about that being the purpose of their time here, but Phainon doesn't want to ruin the moment by making it sound like that's all that matters to him. He might have come here for the purpose of his wish, but his desire for Cat is real, not linked specifically to the contract he had signed or the need to make sure he does as he is told.
It's a little more than that.
Nudging their noses together again, he hums softly. ]
I'll have a little restraint for us both, then.
[ Not that it stops him from letting his fingers stroke over the small of his back, not that it stops him from holding the other man closer, resting his chin against him as he gazes up. He's a little bit like putty under him, enjoying being petted and held, as if he really is a domesticated dog at the heel of his master. It would be funny if the comparison wasn't a little too close to home.
Humming, he tilts his head, eyes almost unblinking. ]
Anything I want?
[ There's a moment of consideration, and then - ]
I'd like to know what else you enjoy doing in your free time... Other than thinking about kissing me.
[ Resistance, to the Cat, is an opportunity to push. Even when he swore off humans for life, he still found himself weaving between the proverbial (and literal) legs of ones that caught his eye. Even when he arrived here and decided he was determinedly not going to act like a lovesick idiot in the throes of a rebound, he still sought out familiar faces more than once. Followed them to their apartments, watched them at a distance, and pushed his claws in deep when he should have kept them back.
Resisting Phainon feels like pressing those claws to a new couch without tarnishing it. Like taking a bite and not a mouthful. Like feeling the heat without jumping into the fire. Temptation, resistance. The Cat is weak to both.
So, though he talks a big game about not kissing Phainon's mouth, not letting himself get distracted that way... he said fucking nothing about kissing him elsewhere.
He lets Phainon rub their noses together, eyelashes flickering softly, smile going tender as he focuses in on the physicality of him; those hands at his back, the way he holds the Cat close like the only reason he's accepting the pause of their kisses is because he can still have him like this. Cute. Another tally mark on bites for later.
And at the sound of his request, he quirks his eyebrow a little, but nods his consent to answer. But not before he leans down, pressing his mouth to Phainon's jaw, and then another and another, back toward his ear and against the lobe of it. And between every kiss, he gives Phainon what he asked for: ]
I like... clothes shopping and fashion, so I like putting together outfits. I like to read, and I like to watch movies, though my choices in that department are a little- [ He nips his ear softly with his fangs, but not enough to be considered a bite, then starts down his neck. ] -limited, here. Hmmm, what else. I like to people watch. I like getting a coffee and just watching the world and the people in it go by. I like taking naps. I like buying and arranging flowers.
[ He pauses, lips to his collar, on the very precipice of going further, and then retracting to blink almost innocently at the other man. ]
[ It's very hard to focus on what the Cat King is saying to him when his mouth is exploring like that, but Phainon thinks that might be kind of the point. His hands keep a gentle hold of the other man even as he nods, listening attentively to everything that's been shared with him. He'll keep it locked away in his mind, little things to bring out later when he wants to share a quieter moment, when he wants to see his friend as happy as possible.
The fangs make him shiver, and he swallows, tilting to offer the other man as much space and room as he might desire. ]
I've been told my sense of fashion is deplorable. [ Even if he might be fond of his ducky shirt, he knows that other people aren't. He can imagine Cat teleporting into his room for an evening embrace and coming face to face with Phainon in the rubber duck nightwear that Mydeimos had bought him, and that might well kill any attempts at sexual feeling that might have been brewing beforehand.
It makes him smile, squeezing the other man just a little tighter. ]
I've enjoyed reading a great deal too, especially histories, and other cities and people. I used to dream about seeing the world when I was younger, or visiting a great library.
[ Though that feels far out of reach, now.
Nudging up, he presses a kiss to his jaw, his chin, idle and soft. It feels almost...
Phainon nods. ]
I feel like I know you better now, so yes. Our next evening together could be a movie, or reading? If you really want to indulge, you can nap with me and Fig Stew.
[ Phainon sleeps poorly a lot of the time, and likes the idea of being able to curl up with a warm body without having to overthink what it means. ]
[ It's easier, somehow, for the Cat King to approach the idea of being known when he's being known as a sexual creature with fun additions that make him real. It's easier to not imagine someone thinking it's laughable for a King to enjoy such vapid things when the fact that he's a tool for sexual gratification is impossible to ignore.
Phainon doesn't seem to have any predisposed opinions about Kings or their cats, only looks at him again with that patient look and fond smile. Yet again leaping over the hurdle the Cat pushes in his way as if it were never there in the first place. It's impossible to hold back the smile that curves his mouth. ]
A nap for a second date? Phainon, you really are spoiling me.
[ He rewards him with a kiss, to the soft angle of his cheek, hands sliding to his throat, palms warm over his pulse and fingers playing in the strands of hair at the back of his head, thumbs on his jaw. ] I've travelled a little. Maybe I can tell you of some of the places in my world that I've been, the place I'm rumoured to be from, even, though I don't know how much credit there is to it. I don't remember much of my first life.
[ He kisses across his face, his nose, to the other cheek and then down to the corner of his mouth. ]
Perhaps I can dress you up some time, too. Give you something to wear that isn't quite so... deplorable.
[ He grins, then kisses him on the mouth, a press of contact, a catlike lap of his tongue. He'd kiss him deeper, too-- but something sticks in his mind, and he draws back with a quizzical look. ] ... Fig Stew?
[ They work well together as a pair, Phainon thinks. He’s used to having someone around to tease him and nudge him, used to paying attention to his friends, accustomed to all of it, so it feels easy and natural to slip into what the Cat gives him. It’s not the same as Mydeimos or Cyrene, but it doesn’t have to be; he’s his own person, and Phainon likes that, too.
Lounging together, sharing soft kisses… It’s nice, fulfilling in a different way, and the conversation stops him from going into something too morose, too sad for the occasion. ]
I like to spoil my friends.
[ Which is what Cat is, isn’t it?
Smiling, he speaks, and the words come without thinking too much. ]
I don’t remember much of mine, either. The ending better than the start, but the endings of a story are often the most memorable. I’d like to hear about yours.
[ He doesn’t realise the slip, continuing along as if nothing has happened.
He continues to seek kisses, continues to touch and nuzzle and feel content, the smile on his face unwavering. It’s the calm before the storm, the quiet before Phainon realises the confession he’s just offered, a secret buried deep, deep inside himself. How funny, what contentment does. ]
I’ll show you my wardrobe later… Fig Stew might be around here somewhere. He’s a small, orange chimera. Mydeimos was given him as a gift, like you and Vyvyan.
[ Friends. Phainon has called him a friend before, at the ball in a passing comment and here and there in a way that makes it sound like an easy thing to be, like Phainon goes around collecting friends all the time just by being warm and kind and good. The Cat is only just learning how to be a friend, how to let himself have them in return, how to want them just enough, not too much. Simon has taught him a lot, both about being a friend and not wanting more than he's given, so he naturally finds himself thinking about him here... but the sore feelings aren't as sharp as they were a week or two ago. And being Phainon's friend is something he definitely wants to be. He can be normal about this.
And yet. He wonders if Phainon does these things with all his friends, or if the Cat is special. Special enough to be in a small group of people he's been intimate with more than once, at least. Possessively, he wants to bite him. For no other reason than the fact that he can, and that he's allowed to and Phainon wants him to. What was that he just said about being normal?
Instead, he listens, he kisses him, he runs his nose along his cheek and jaw, he wonders what the fuck a chimera is. Like a dog-daughter chimera or a lion-goat-snake chimera? Or something completely different, given that Phainon's world and his share very few similarities. He imagines Phainon showing him his wardrobe. He imagines undressing him, redressing him: sending him out into the world wearing something he picked out, only to take it off again once he returns. He thinks about telling Phainon what he knows of Cat King history, of his history before Port Townsend, of Death and their agreement. He thinks about his lives, what he's lost, what he doesn't even know he's lost. He thinks of Phainon.
It's not hard to imagine Phainon might have died in his world, because he's encountered many pretty boys who are here wishing for another chance at a life tragically cut short. But Phainon had agreed in a way that makes the Cat feel like he relates less to the fact that he's died, but the fact that he's died more than once. I don't remember much of mine, either... His first life? Does he mean that literally? Or... his life before he was a soldier, or..?
Curiosity pulls like a leash, and the Cat draws back from Phainon to look at him. ]
I guess you and I are more similar than I first thought. [ His hand reaches up, cupping Phainon's cheek. ] You really are fascinating to me. Everything about you. You make me feel...
[ Perhaps it's best not to finish that thought. Perhaps it's best just to kiss him instead. ]
[ Friend is a title that Phainon gives like a gift, a flower in the bleak, barren landscape of the world. There are some who are more dear to him than others, of course, who fill a place in his life with more ease (Mydeimos, steadfast and strong; Cyrene, the breath of childhood innocence; Aglaea, who guided him on his path to begin with), but they are all special to him. Counting a person amongst his friends means some part of his vast, longing-filled heart is theirs, and he wants nothing more than to fulfil their desires.
Being able to literally make wishes come true in this world is another gift, and Phainon sinks into that like sliding into a warm, comfortable bath. It feels right, and soothes his hurts, and allows him to refocus his attentions: this is his duty and his role, his new Flame Chase journey. Let his new Dawn be the burning of the past and the creation of wishes, an Era Nova worthy of celebration rather than mourning.
The kiss steals his thoughts away and grounds him, arm wrapping around Cat so he can feel for his hair, scratch through it, all tenderness and want. It's not a desperate desire, enough to make him rush to tug the other man to a bedroom to sate himself, but a low, bubbling one, like leaving a good meal to simmer over a warm flame. It comforts him, and it means that he doesn't think too hard about what he's saying, the things he's confessing, mind filled with cotton and sweetness and the whispering urge for more, more, more.
Everything feels greedy. Phainon feels unworthy. He thinks of Aglaea, and Tribbie, thinks of the constant; losses are a constant on the flame chase journey. One day, they will return to their own worlds, wishes fulfilled, and he will lose Cat, just as he will lose so many others. Will it break his heart, or will he find relief in knowing their shared desires have borne fruit? Will he remember this man, who has been so good to him, worming his way into his heart?
The more time he spends with these people, the harder it will surely become.
Leaning into the touch to his cheek, Phainon frowns briefly, going over the words in his mind, before his eyes flicker a touch wider. It's obvious that he never meant to make such a confession, and his fingers tighten briefly before he breathes out. He trusts, at least, that Cat won't go gossipping about this; trusts that his missaid words won't ruin the softness of the moment between then, too easy to confess to his most layered of sins.
Leaning in, he hides his face against Cat, tucking into his jaw, his chest, humming. ]
That might explain how easy things have felt! I'm not really that interesting, though.
[ Which might not be factually true. When he tilts his head up, he seeks Cat's gaze, heart messy in his chest. ]
I do hope the rest of that sentence is a positive one.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
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?
no subject
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.
no subject
He follows after Cat, his eyes soft as he shakes his head. ]
I try to use the gym when it’s quieter, so people are less inclined to comment on what I’m 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 he’d 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 won’t mind either way.
Slowly, his smile widens. ]
That sounds like you’re inviting me to see your apartment, Cat.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
As soon as those legs are on his lap, he’s 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. It’s nice, comforting in a way, to stroke his finger there, to touch the other man’s warm skin as they talk, and enjoy the intimacy. It’s 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 can’t think of a single reason why I’d want to visit your home?
[ Even if it wasn’t 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 doesn’t 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 Cat’s ankle as he lets himself take his own drink, an indirect kiss of sorts. ]
I hope you’ll let me visit, one day. To see Vyvyan, right?
[ Hehe. ]
no subject
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? ]
no subject
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.
no subject
I said, come over whenever you want. I don't mind.
[ His body is settling comfortably into the feeling of Phainon's hand on his calf, fingers painting idle patterns on his bare skin. He feels warm, even where the cropped hem of his shirt leaves him bare to the elements; the skin there is flushed, from the wine or the comfort or both. He feels good. He's starting to feel like that's just a byproduct of being around Phainon. Or maybe he's just tipsy. ]
You won't find me asking permission every time I use my powers to turn up here. I can do it so easily now that I've been here already. [ He scoops up the bottle from Phainon's grasp, finding it so much easier to lean into teasing and his easy brand of flirtation than he does dwelling on things that make him feel soft and kitten-like. ] Maybe I'll see if curling up in your bed lets me sleep any easier.
no subject
It felt, for a long time, as though his hands were unworthy of such sweet, simple touch.
Laughing softly, he watches Cat with a fond gaze. ]
I'll drop by, in that case.
[ Thumb moving idly, Phainon leans forward, a soft flash of concern settling over his features. ]
Do you have trouble sleeping? If you think it would help, you can come over. I wouldn't mind.
no subject
If he thinks about it, he can imagine it so. He already thinks about him enough, and after tonight it'll be even more difficult to get him off his mind. ]
Mm, maybe I'll do just that then. I'll keep your bed niiiice and warm for you when you get back to it. Or maybe I'll sneak in while you're already snoozing and leech all your warmth.
[ He grins, but he feels like he owes that look some soothing, so he reaches out with the hand that isn't grasping the bottle, and pokes the little crease in Phainon's brow with a claw. ]
I can't shift forms as easily as I can in my own world, and I sleep better as a cat. I just can't get as comfortable. That's all.
no subject
It should've been obvious, and in hindsight maybe it is. He feels the giggles bubble up from his stomach, and he's taking the hand not brushing idle, silly shapes into the other man's skin, reaching out to grab at the one poking him, thumb against the pulse point before he breathes out, ignoring the way he laughs softly. ]
I'm not laughing at you! I only...
[ He squeezes Cat's wrist. ]
I'm not sure why I didn't realise you were actually a cat, as well.
[ Phainon sounds a little sheepish about it too, shaking his head fondly. ]
Keep my bed warm as often as you like.
no subject
He narrows his eyes a bit, but his expression is amused, and when Phainon grabs at his wrist he takes it as an opportunity to shift a little closer in the pantomime of scrutinising him, but in actuality because he just wanted to get close to that face. He looks good when he laughs. He looks good all the time, but the Cat likes him like this the most. Well, maybe not the most. But it's a close second. ]
What, you thought I was just a fruity human tasked with bossing a hundred and forty-six cats around? [ He quirks his eyebrow as if that's a stupid fucking idea when, to an outsider's perspective, that's exactly what his situation looks like. ] I'm a cat first, Phainon. This is a glamour I made myself.
[ Let that one sink in. His smile goes a little flatter. It doesn't disappear completely, but some of the humour certainly dissipates. ]
So if you want to change your mind about bedwarming now, it'd be a good time to do it. Otherwise I'm going to climb into your lap and kiss you.
no subject
[ A cat first. That's something for him to unpack later, when he's not so caught up in the man next to him.
The truth is that they haven't really spoken in depth about their own histories, their backstories, the things that exist outside the bubbles of their intimacy. In hindsight, he's sure there's probably more that he could have done to bridge that gap, to try and learn a little more about Cat, but isn't that what he's doing now? A nice dinner, conversation, questions to unpick and find out as much as he can.
He isn't cruel, and he isn't unkind, not to those who are not his enemies. Cat King is no enemy, is a friend, growing dearer by the day, and Phainon leans as well, mirroring the slow movement of the man before him. With his legs where they are, they're already close, but it feels as if there's some form of magnet, something keeping them from being too distant with one another.
The hand on the Cat's leg tightens, briefly, and his smile remains small, but soft. ]
Why would I turn you away?
[ Tugging on the wrist, he brings it close, to try and press a kiss to the steady thrum of his pulse. ]
I want you right here, with me.
no subject
If it changed anything or made Phainon feel strange, it wouldn't be the first time, and the Cat would have simply gone home and never crossed Phainon's path again. Simple. And yet he's full to the brim with the sudden rush of relief that such an outcome isn't one he has to face. He could kiss him. He will kiss him. Especially if he keeps looking at him with that soft smile, pulling his hand close to—
When Phainon kisses his wrist, the Cat's mind goes back to a soft kiss pressed to his cheek, to a fond smile and a soft nod, and remembers the way his heart had slammed in his chest as though it wanted to crawl out and follow the retreating ghost. He'd promised himself he wouldn't do this. But he also thought this wouldn't, couldn't happen to him. Why shouldn't he have it, if it's being offered up to him so readily?
He slides his body forward, brushing his hand away from Phainon's mouth like he's jealous it got there before him, kissing him hard but chastely – just a press of their mouths before he's drawing back so that he can sit in his lap properly. A recreation, almost, of their first meeting. It makes him smile, sharp and pointed, before he leans down to kiss Phainon properly. Their conversation isn't over, he'll make sure of it, but now he just wants to enjoy this. ]
no subject
In a way, he's glad he doesn't have to think of the answers to those things, glad that he can let his eyes drag over the Cat instead. It makes it easier, as it has done in the past. He can focus instead on his hands, his touch, the solid weight of his body over him, and how warm it makes him feel. How strange it is, to have a friend he cares for, one whose blood has never stained his hands, whose life has never been plundered in the hope of a better future.
Cat King does not know his violence, only his softness, and Phainon wants to keep it that way. Let him never know Khaslana, who had become the Dawn and burned all the love inside himself in the making.
Leaning into the kiss, he smiles, one arm wrapping around Cat's waist to hold him there. It's easier than the one they had shared before, that first idle flirtation becoming something more at the celebration, Phainon less nervous, less shy. He has confidence with the Cat King touching him, kissing and wanting him, knowing he can give and take and be welcomed. He trusts in that, even if his other words are buried somewhere deep inside.
It doesn't need to become sexual, but the desire remains, unable to be resisted.
Phainon keeps the kiss soft, and slow, almost sweet, basking in the heat of it. He smiles into it, his other hand sliding to the Cat's waist, to find the soft skin there and pet it, to let his fingers find his warmth and grasp onto it. It makes his chilled fingers feel better - cold to him, but likely not to anyone else, the loss of his Coreflames making all his limbs feel frozen. ]
no subject
The Cat loves to kiss, could happily get lost in it for without so much as thinking of resurfacing, and honestly hadn't realised how much he truly missed it until he arrived in this place where physicality means everything and kissing is its own gateway drug. But he could get used to this soft directionless kind. Climbing into Phainon's bed to kiss him like this. Waking him in the morning with a kiss like this. Finding him out in the city to pull him onto a bench somewhere and kiss him, just like this. Perhaps he'll even catch him at the gym and lick the sweat off his top lip before kissing him goodbye. All stupid, ridiculous, romantic things that he's never let himself think about except in private, painful moments like these. Things he hurts himself on purpose by wanting.
He imagined them with Edwin, with Simon, and look how that turned out. But Phainon kisses him back. Phainon wants him here, with him. So... Perhaps he can covet this, in his own way, in his own mind. Perhaps this can be his and his alone.
He parts their mouths only to breathe, lifting his paws to slide appraisingly back through Phainon's soft hair, two handfuls of pale locks the way one might pet an eager dog. He laughs, soft and affectionate. ]
I could kiss you for hours. [ He heaves a dramatic sigh. ] How am I going to get anything done now...
no subject
Below all the horror and the nightmare is the boy who wanted to be a hero, the man who raised his blade to the sky and swore to become the world's Deliverer. It feels further away at times, and too close to his heart at others, but Phainon is recognising the parts of himself that are one or the other. Phainon, a farm boy turned soldier; Khaslana, the manifestation of hate. They're both part of him now, and he is slowly coming to terms with it, accepting, understand, refusing to falter.
Pulling Cat a little tighter, he hums into the kiss, tilting into the touch of his hands, enjoying the echo of his laugh. The apartment is theirs, with no one to bother them for at least a little while, and he wants to enjoy this. There's freedom in that laugh, and something real under it, something that makes his chest feel tight and his cheeks feel hot, hands keen to touch and take and anchor. Admitting to a desire is hard, nigh impossible for Phainon, but the more time he spends here the easier it feels.
Their noses nudge, and his smile widens into a grin, tilting his head and watching the other man fondly. ]
Did you make plans for after our dinner? Should I be offended?
[ Tilting up, he noses at the Cat's jaw, brushing his mouth against the sharp edge of it, teasing, enjoying the feeling of being close. ]
No one said you had to stop kissing me.
no subject
[ He lets the implication that he's spent any time at all prior to this meeting thinking about Phainon's mouth go unspoken, because not only should it be obvious that he has, given the texts he sent Phainon recently, but he's a little embarrassed at how much he's been thinking about it, amongst other things. ]
But I've always been bad at showing resistance. I want too much to hold myself back from it. And you, puppy, you're much too sweet to resist.
[ Is he convincing himself he simply had no chance not falling into things this honey trap of a man? Was he doomed from the start by his big eyes and his gentle face? His apprehension turned burning need that the Cat can relate to so succinctly, if not in the exact same way Phainon feels it? Who knows. But, as he smooths his hand through his hair again, tilting his head ever so slightly to watch it pass through his claws, he thinks it might not be so bad. He's survived before, he'll survive again. ]
But I feel like I should get a few more revelations out of the way before I get too carried away with you, and you answered so many of my questions before, so... Is there anything you want to ask me?
no subject
It's a little more than that.
Nudging their noses together again, he hums softly. ]
I'll have a little restraint for us both, then.
[ Not that it stops him from letting his fingers stroke over the small of his back, not that it stops him from holding the other man closer, resting his chin against him as he gazes up. He's a little bit like putty under him, enjoying being petted and held, as if he really is a domesticated dog at the heel of his master. It would be funny if the comparison wasn't a little too close to home.
Humming, he tilts his head, eyes almost unblinking. ]
Anything I want?
[ There's a moment of consideration, and then - ]
I'd like to know what else you enjoy doing in your free time... Other than thinking about kissing me.
no subject
Resisting Phainon feels like pressing those claws to a new couch without tarnishing it. Like taking a bite and not a mouthful. Like feeling the heat without jumping into the fire. Temptation, resistance. The Cat is weak to both.
So, though he talks a big game about not kissing Phainon's mouth, not letting himself get distracted that way... he said fucking nothing about kissing him elsewhere.
He lets Phainon rub their noses together, eyelashes flickering softly, smile going tender as he focuses in on the physicality of him; those hands at his back, the way he holds the Cat close like the only reason he's accepting the pause of their kisses is because he can still have him like this. Cute. Another tally mark on bites for later.
And at the sound of his request, he quirks his eyebrow a little, but nods his consent to answer. But not before he leans down, pressing his mouth to Phainon's jaw, and then another and another, back toward his ear and against the lobe of it. And between every kiss, he gives Phainon what he asked for: ]
I like... clothes shopping and fashion, so I like putting together outfits. I like to read, and I like to watch movies, though my choices in that department are a little- [ He nips his ear softly with his fangs, but not enough to be considered a bite, then starts down his neck. ] -limited, here. Hmmm, what else. I like to people watch. I like getting a coffee and just watching the world and the people in it go by. I like taking naps. I like buying and arranging flowers.
[ He pauses, lips to his collar, on the very precipice of going further, and then retracting to blink almost innocently at the other man. ]
Is that enough?
no subject
The fangs make him shiver, and he swallows, tilting to offer the other man as much space and room as he might desire. ]
I've been told my sense of fashion is deplorable. [ Even if he might be fond of his ducky shirt, he knows that other people aren't. He can imagine Cat teleporting into his room for an evening embrace and coming face to face with Phainon in the rubber duck nightwear that Mydeimos had bought him, and that might well kill any attempts at sexual feeling that might have been brewing beforehand.
It makes him smile, squeezing the other man just a little tighter. ]
I've enjoyed reading a great deal too, especially histories, and other cities and people. I used to dream about seeing the world when I was younger, or visiting a great library.
[ Though that feels far out of reach, now.
Nudging up, he presses a kiss to his jaw, his chin, idle and soft. It feels almost...
Phainon nods. ]
I feel like I know you better now, so yes. Our next evening together could be a movie, or reading? If you really want to indulge, you can nap with me and Fig Stew.
[ Phainon sleeps poorly a lot of the time, and likes the idea of being able to curl up with a warm body without having to overthink what it means. ]
no subject
Phainon doesn't seem to have any predisposed opinions about Kings or their cats, only looks at him again with that patient look and fond smile. Yet again leaping over the hurdle the Cat pushes in his way as if it were never there in the first place. It's impossible to hold back the smile that curves his mouth. ]
A nap for a second date? Phainon, you really are spoiling me.
[ He rewards him with a kiss, to the soft angle of his cheek, hands sliding to his throat, palms warm over his pulse and fingers playing in the strands of hair at the back of his head, thumbs on his jaw. ] I've travelled a little. Maybe I can tell you of some of the places in my world that I've been, the place I'm rumoured to be from, even, though I don't know how much credit there is to it. I don't remember much of my first life.
[ He kisses across his face, his nose, to the other cheek and then down to the corner of his mouth. ]
Perhaps I can dress you up some time, too. Give you something to wear that isn't quite so... deplorable.
[ He grins, then kisses him on the mouth, a press of contact, a catlike lap of his tongue. He'd kiss him deeper, too-- but something sticks in his mind, and he draws back with a quizzical look. ] ... Fig Stew?
no subject
Lounging together, sharing soft kisses… It’s nice, fulfilling in a different way, and the conversation stops him from going into something too morose, too sad for the occasion. ]
I like to spoil my friends.
[ Which is what Cat is, isn’t it?
Smiling, he speaks, and the words come without thinking too much. ]
I don’t remember much of mine, either. The ending better than the start, but the endings of a story are often the most memorable. I’d like to hear about yours.
[ He doesn’t realise the slip, continuing along as if nothing has happened.
He continues to seek kisses, continues to touch and nuzzle and feel content, the smile on his face unwavering. It’s the calm before the storm, the quiet before Phainon realises the confession he’s just offered, a secret buried deep, deep inside himself. How funny, what contentment does. ]
I’ll show you my wardrobe later… Fig Stew might be around here somewhere. He’s a small, orange chimera. Mydeimos was given him as a gift, like you and Vyvyan.
no subject
And yet. He wonders if Phainon does these things with all his friends, or if the Cat is special. Special enough to be in a small group of people he's been intimate with more than once, at least. Possessively, he wants to bite him. For no other reason than the fact that he can, and that he's allowed to and Phainon wants him to. What was that he just said about being normal?
Instead, he listens, he kisses him, he runs his nose along his cheek and jaw, he wonders what the fuck a chimera is. Like a dog-daughter chimera or a lion-goat-snake chimera? Or something completely different, given that Phainon's world and his share very few similarities. He imagines Phainon showing him his wardrobe. He imagines undressing him, redressing him: sending him out into the world wearing something he picked out, only to take it off again once he returns. He thinks about telling Phainon what he knows of Cat King history, of his history before Port Townsend, of Death and their agreement. He thinks about his lives, what he's lost, what he doesn't even know he's lost. He thinks of Phainon.
It's not hard to imagine Phainon might have died in his world, because he's encountered many pretty boys who are here wishing for another chance at a life tragically cut short. But Phainon had agreed in a way that makes the Cat feel like he relates less to the fact that he's died, but the fact that he's died more than once. I don't remember much of mine, either... His first life? Does he mean that literally? Or... his life before he was a soldier, or..?
Curiosity pulls like a leash, and the Cat draws back from Phainon to look at him. ]
I guess you and I are more similar than I first thought. [ His hand reaches up, cupping Phainon's cheek. ] You really are fascinating to me. Everything about you. You make me feel...
[ Perhaps it's best not to finish that thought. Perhaps it's best just to kiss him instead. ]
no subject
Being able to literally make wishes come true in this world is another gift, and Phainon sinks into that like sliding into a warm, comfortable bath. It feels right, and soothes his hurts, and allows him to refocus his attentions: this is his duty and his role, his new Flame Chase journey. Let his new Dawn be the burning of the past and the creation of wishes, an Era Nova worthy of celebration rather than mourning.
The kiss steals his thoughts away and grounds him, arm wrapping around Cat so he can feel for his hair, scratch through it, all tenderness and want. It's not a desperate desire, enough to make him rush to tug the other man to a bedroom to sate himself, but a low, bubbling one, like leaving a good meal to simmer over a warm flame. It comforts him, and it means that he doesn't think too hard about what he's saying, the things he's confessing, mind filled with cotton and sweetness and the whispering urge for more, more, more.
Everything feels greedy. Phainon feels unworthy. He thinks of Aglaea, and Tribbie, thinks of the constant; losses are a constant on the flame chase journey. One day, they will return to their own worlds, wishes fulfilled, and he will lose Cat, just as he will lose so many others. Will it break his heart, or will he find relief in knowing their shared desires have borne fruit? Will he remember this man, who has been so good to him, worming his way into his heart?
The more time he spends with these people, the harder it will surely become.
Leaning into the touch to his cheek, Phainon frowns briefly, going over the words in his mind, before his eyes flicker a touch wider. It's obvious that he never meant to make such a confession, and his fingers tighten briefly before he breathes out. He trusts, at least, that Cat won't go gossipping about this; trusts that his missaid words won't ruin the softness of the moment between then, too easy to confess to his most layered of sins.
Leaning in, he hides his face against Cat, tucking into his jaw, his chest, humming. ]
That might explain how easy things have felt! I'm not really that interesting, though.
[ Which might not be factually true. When he tilts his head up, he seeks Cat's gaze, heart messy in his chest. ]
I do hope the rest of that sentence is a positive one.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)