Chapter Text
Phainon was… curious. That was all.
His best friend since middle-school had a secret, one he had let him in on once but seemed to keep to himself otherwise. It wasn’t an accident when he had confessed, nor was it coerced out of him in any way. Mydei simply said it over the phone as if it were a casual fact about him, like he didn’t care if he knew even if he didn't ever talk about it.
“Well, I haven’t had a boyfriend, but I did have a submissive. He wasn’t difficult to talk to.”
He hadn’t understood what that meant or why he felt the need to differentiate between the two.
Was it similar to the ‘square is a rectangle’ kind of logic? A boyfriend could be a submissive kind of partner, but a submissive wasn’t always a boyfriend?
How did that even work? With nothing but casual sex between them? Were there no romantic feelings involved?
From what he knew, his best friend wasn’t a playboy. Mydei didn’t casually flirt with guys in an attempt to take them home, and he didn’t seem to like other people most of the time too. That stoic expression of his didn’t exactly give off the impression he enjoyed company, and his way of speaking came off more callous than anything.
If he thought long enough, he wasn’t even sure if Mydei ever mentioned the guys he found attractive or wanted to potentially ask out. The only reason he knew he was interested in guys to begin with was because of a singular enamel pin that once lived in the strap of his high-school book bag.
They had never really spoken about the topic either, just accepted the other wordlessly as they shared details about themselves over time. Coincidentally, that was how most of their friendship went—silent acceptance of uncomfortable topics and full-blown, back-and-forth banter over others.
Phainon had wanted to ask about this particular thing when it happened, however, but over the phone after a failed attempt at picking someone up felt like a terrible setting to have the conversation. He didn't have it in him.
Now, he wished he did.
Mydei’s slip of the tongue had quietly bothered him since the moment he heard it, and he talked himself into believing it was because his own sex life was bone dry. It has been years of just him and his steadily growing collection of toys. Part of him assumed it was that way for his best friend too since he never brought up partners, dates, or feelings. As ambitious as he was, he thought the other man was just too focused on climbing the corporate ladder of his father's company.
Yet that one sentence proved Mydei wasn’t going through the same thing as him. That one line told him that while he was single, bored, and feeling a little left out of the romance scene, Mydei was secretly seeing God-knows-who and having the time of his life.
On one hand, good for him. On the other hand, it was just a little bit annoying.
Though he knew he could try to find someone at a bar or club too, strangers never seemed to hit the mark he needed them to. Pretty girls approaching him didn’t excite him as much as they should’ve when all they wanted to do was dance on top of him. Handsome men offering to buy him a drink only made him think too much about going to a place he’s never been to with someone he’s never met to do things while he was too drunk to remember his own name. There were hardly any moments to just… talk, to get to know each other better before moving on to physical things, and there were too many potential risks in sleeping around. His brain never let him enjoy it.
On top of that, his heart couldn’t take just being someone’s sexual object for a night when he wanted a connection closer than that. It didn't make sense how someone could open themselves up without trusting them first.
That was why he confronted Mydei.
With two shots of liquid courage in his system before the man showed up, as they sat around his apartment casually chatting about the newest thriller movie they were watching, Phainon just had to know. It ate away at his psyche, begging to be acknowledged.
“Hey, De? H… How did you even find a submissive?”
Mydei hummed, the sound low and rumbling as he contemplated his answer for a moment. “I met my last one on a dating app,” he answered simply, cleanly.
Dating apps somehow felt worse than bars or clubs. They felt emptier than talking face to face, and he heard stories of catfishing and uncomfortable sexting from his other friends who have them.
Mydei never seemed like he would take part in the online-dating group of people, but he guessed these were the intimate details that wouldn’t typically be shared in a conversation. Those habits weren’t just casual day-talking conversations. Especially since his style of dating wasn’t, well, dating. It was darker. Dirtier.
“Why do you want to know?” Mydei wondered after.
“You sound a little defensive. Is there a reason why?” Phainon shot back as amber eyes bore right into his cerulean ones.
Mydei’s lips pursed. The rim of a sleek glass touched his bottom one, then tilted back for a drink of the rich, caramel-tinted liquor.
“No.” Alcohol burned his vocals into a rasp. “But why ask such a question so suddenly?”
“How’d you even get into it?” He asked him instead, too tangled within his curiosity and confusion to entertain him with a response. “It’s some pretty violent stuff.”
“Pardon?”
Thick, golden eyebrows furrowed together into a pinch as his gaze hardened. More than a purse, his lips then tilted downwards into the makings of a frown.
Phainon swallowed over the brooding expression. “What?”
BDSM was violent. Dominance of his kind was aggressive in nature, and submission was the fear in response to it. Rules and punishments, permissions and denial, those kinds of things weren’t common in a relationship. They weren’t something someone should adhere to in a place where comfort, trust, and acceptance were meant to be. It was arbitrary.
In addition to not being a playboy, his best friend wasn’t necessarily a violent person either. He had his moments of anger, but so did everyone else when pushed far enough. Which was what made this even more surprising.
When did he grow to crave such all-consuming power over someone?
“It’s not something violent if you don’t want it to be,” Mydei argued, pulling him from his thoughts.
His glass clinked to the coffee table, and the movie they were watching was paused with a singular button. Everything they had been doing was put on halt, stopped so they could have this conversation.
“I am not violent with my partner.”
“You’re not, but isn’t that what BDSM is, Mydei? Sexual violence?” He reasoned, unable to accept that it was different from what he read about online. “Someone pushes something on to someone else, and they’re too afraid of punishment to deny that demand. Sadism is right in the title, and sadism is, by definition, getting off on hurting people. It’s… violent.”
Mydei’s voice cut like a knife as he retorted, “Why are you suddenly so interested in things you clearly don’t like?”
Phainon paused, aware that he was upset with his viewpoint and poking at a lion poised to strike. But he also knew that he wouldn’t try to interject more than necessary because he valued his privacy greatly. Trying to prove him wrong would mean having to admit the gritty details of his affairs, and he wasn’t the kind of guy to just spill his guts for anything.
“It doesn't make sense,” he told him. “Why are they considered your submissives and not your boyfriends?”
“Why are you so fixated on my personal affairs, Phainon?”
This time, it was him who turned to face the other man better. With his knee bent on top of the couch cushion and his hands on his calf, he gave Mydei his complete attention back.
“Why won’t you answer my questions? Is it because you know I’m right?” He bit, trying to imagine his best friend in the shoes of some of the videos he saw while searching for answers.
The man throwing someone’s smaller body around as he pleased despite their cries for mercy; the man tying someone up with rope, hitting their delicate skin while in such a defenseless state, and finding enjoyment in their pain; the man resting his heavy, dirty boots on top of someone's bruised, naked body while casually watching television—that was Mydei. That was his best friend.
The same guy who bent down to pet stray cats on the street and gifted his friends meticulously wrapped, homemade desserts was a person who got off on dehumanizing his partner.
Phainon wasn’t sure how that sat inside of his stomach as he looked at him, at the face he almost didn’t know if he recognized.
A shadow had been cast over him, replacing the golden light that once cascaded over him. How was he meant to see him as that same person knowing what he enjoyed doing to someone else?
“You’re prying into a place you don’t belong,” Mydei warned him carefully. “My relationships or lack thereof, my kinks and fetishes, and my preferred lifestyle are not any of your business, Phainon. Stop.”
“You’re my best friend. Of course it’s my business too,” Phainon insisted as a weight pulled at the depths of his gut. Desperation laced his words. “I don’t want to be friends with—”
“—with what?”
Silence followed.
The tension between both men was chokingly thick and heating with each passing moment. All of the oxygen in the room dissipated, replaced with something that could be sliced with a knife, something not so easily taken into the lungs.
Mydei’s glare over him was hot. Piercing, even, like it shot right through his body in an attempt to find an explanation himself since he refused to answer his questions too.
“You’ll look me in my eyes and accuse me of being an abusive person?” He asked incredulously.
Hearing that unspoken accusation materializing out loud in his own voice, Phainon supposed that it sounded a little bit… outrageous. Maybe he was being unfair by assuming so baselessly. After all, simply having and liking a submissive partner didn’t mean he wanted to hurt people.
This was his best friend. They had grown up with each other for over ten years now, visiting each other’s houses as often as their parents would allow them to and begging to spend the night after. When he had football games in high school, Mydei was there in the stands to support him, win or lose. During the days Mydei was too drained with his family problems to make it to his college courses, he took extra time to help him study the notes he had written down for him in their shared classes.
Mydei wasn’t a bad person. He knew that. His heart knew that.
Phainon’s shoulders sunk in on themselves, and he looked away as the accusation hung heavy in the air.
“That’s not what I…” He tried to defend himself, just to sigh heavily. “Forget I said anything, De. It’s not like I think you’re a bad person.”
His best friend scoffed bitterly. “Clearly you do, Phainon.”
Guilt weighed over him as he winced from the sound, not used to hearing so much venom within his voice. Especially when it was directed at him.
“No, it’s not like that,” he protested weakly. “I’m just… I-I guess I’m confused on how it works.”
“The internet is in your pocket.”
“The internet is why I think the way I do!” Phainon raised his voice.
As their eyes met again, Mydei’s glare softened.
“Don’t you think I already looked online, De? And guess what I found there? I found people w-with bruises over their bodies, and people being treated like sexual objects, and people talking about how their ‘masters’ control every aspect of their life from when they wake up to what they eat! Isn’t that just a little bit crazy?” He begged him to understand, voice pitched louder with disbelief. “Is that… your life? Do you do that?”
Deep down, he was begging to hear him say ‘no’.
No matter his interests and no matter his past, even if it was just a little white lie, all he needed to tell him was that he got it all wrong. None of that was his thing. He didn’t enjoy a single aspect of anything he just listed. It was crazy. Who could live like that?
But another beat passed them, and that hope plummeted faster and faster with each second of silence.
Then Mydei answered, his voice much more gentle than it had been previously.
“Yes.”
Phainon’s breathing hitched over the response he knew was coming, and he leaned away from him as he gave the man a once over.
“Does that upset you, Phainon?” He asked honestly, still holding on to that same gentle tone. “Knowing what I do in my own time, does that make you feel uncomfortable around me?”
“You get off on controlling a person’s life,” he whispered back, amazed that Mydei didn't see it the way he did, the way most people did.
“No, Phainon, I get off on having sex with my partner in a way we’ll both enjoy. That’s all,” he corrected him, speaking as if he were talking to a confused child. “Instructing someone who wants to be guided shouldn’t scare you. That’s just a couple with good communication.”
Was it? Could it really be that simple, innocent, and clean?
“So… what? You look for helpless people willing to submit blindly to you?” He accused him, unable to find the best way to word his thoughts. “You find people who want to be bossed around, and you just… boss them around? Like that? Like a dog?”
“I look for people whose interests align with mine.”
Phainon wanted to scream. He wanted to grab Mydei by his shoulders, shake them until reason came to him, and then yell that he wasn’t explaining anything. His responses didn’t shake his lingering concern away in its entirety.
It chewed at his insides that Mydei liked hurting his partner and making them submit. Because in that same breath, it meant he liked a man who wanted to be hurt and forced to submit.
That someone would probably be smaller than Mydei was, though that wasn’t particularly difficult. They would have to be more timid than him too in order to let him take the wheel in their own life, and maybe even more insecure in order to fully objectify themself for sexual gratification. Like someone’s ‘pet’.
Or, worse. Maybe this mystery man would prefer to be called Mydei’s ‘slave’.
Shivers wracked Phainon’s body over the demeaning title, forcing him to look away from his best friend in hopes of wiping that sickening thought from his head.
A heavy hand then settled over his shoulder, holding him gently.
“I don’t want to argue with you about how I choose to live my life,” Mydei said, but it felt a little late for that. “Will you tell me why you’re so curious now?”
“Because!” His voice raised for a moment, then dragged on into a quieter sound as he gripped the leg of his sweatpants helplessly. “Because it’s… different… from anything I know, okay? It’s weird, and it makes me feel so differently about… things.”
Mydei sucked in a sharp breath, and a few seconds later, he exhaled as if those words had physically hurt him.
“I see…”
“Well, it’s not weird, it’s just… confusing to me. It’s—”
“Phainon.” He was cut off, and his lips sealed as he stared down at his white knuckles. “You wouldn’t happen to be… curious about these things, would you?”
“Huh?!”
Cerulean eyes snapped upwards, widened from the sudden question thrusted at him.
That was only meant to grab a reaction rather than be answered truthfully, right? Which then meant he didn’t need to dignify it with a proper response, right?
Secretly, he pleaded for that to be the case even if it wasn’t likely. Everything in his body told him that was wishful thinking. Because while staring at one another, Mydei gave his shoulder a tight, reassuring squeeze. The pad of his thumb dug in deep, rubbing gently by the collar of his t-shirt.
Of course he meant that.
“If you’re genuinely curious about how this works for your own agenda, I’ll do my best to explain. If you just want to stay ignorant, I can take my leave right now,” he offered him, and Phainon laughed nervously.
“W-What kind of person do you think I am?” He smacked his hand away before balling his fist tightly. “I don’t want to hit anyone, Mydei! That doesn’t arouse me!”
“Forget the sadism and the masochism aspect of it for just a second, okay? Forget people hitting each other or making each other cry,” he suggested. “Consider the other parts of the acronym. Consider bondage, dominance, and submission in a not-so aggressive kind of way.”
“I don’t want to tie someone up either!”
Mydei’s head tilted. “Then… maybe you want to be the one getting tied up, Phainon,” he hinted at him. “Have you ever considered being in that position?”
At that, he laughed again. Though his best friend’s expression didn’t change, he couldn’t help but find it funny.
Him being into bondage? Not a chance.
There was never a point in time where he wanted one of his ex-girlfriends or boyfriends to tie him down to the bed and have their way with him. It was already so nerve wracking to get that far, to open up and let them see the parts of him that no one else ever has. That trust, his feelings, and mutual pleasure were all of what he had to give. Adding restraints into the mix of that mess, and the lack of control to stop them from doing anything they may have wanted with his body, would be too much. He just didn’t have it in him.
“You’re insane,” he accused Mydei. “Too much could go wrong with that, and what if they’re secretly a terrible person trying to just… hurt me? I wouldn’t be able to stop them.”
“I wouldn’t.”
A pound cracked against his ribs over the response.
“I don’t find pleasure or comfort in going against someone’s desire. That would make it rape, Phainon, and I’m not a rapist,” Mydei tried to reassure him. “There are others who are just like that too, and they aren’t rapists either.”
“Mydei…” He trailed off quietly, unsure what to say back.
“There are all kinds of people in the world. Someone is bound to enjoy what I do, and that’s who I want to be with. No one else.”
“What is it then?” Phainon mustered up the courage to ask outloud, watching closely to study every micro-movement he made.
Just what exactly was it that he liked? Not anyone else—him.
A deep breath then filled his chest, inflating it to a momentary puff. “I am always in charge,” he said to him, getting straight to the point and leaving no room to misunderstand him. “Ideally, my submissive would look to me for whatever they needed, and I would hold most of the power in this relationship.”
To Phainon, that sounded arbitrary. It sounded completely one-sided.
Were they not allowed a say in anything that happened to them? Was Mydei meant to rule their life completely as if they were his devout follower and he were their god? His—dare he think the word again—slave?
“Your last submissive… What happened to him?”
Mydei sighed, teeth pulling on to his bottom for a moment as he paused to think. “He was a good man, and we had a nice time together, but we weren’t compatible. I told him he should go find what he wanted, so he left.”
Oh.
Phainon wasn’t sure what he expected the story to be, but it definitely wasn’t that. It wasn’t Mydei just letting him go because he couldn’t provide for him, and the other man—who he had never even met—to just agree.
“Things like…?” He tried his luck by asking, hoping to find out what Mydei didn’t like as well.
“That’s not my business to discuss.”
That sounded a lot like the man he grew up with—good at keeping his affairs his own and never one to talk behind someone’s back. He had been that way all their life, straying away from idle gossip and spreading information he wasn’t yet certain of. Reliability and honesty were some of his most defining traits, and Phainon knew this. He knew.
And yet a strange discomfort still sat within the depths of his belly, tugging him in a direction separate from his head.
“Right… Sorry,” Phainon apologized, bringing his hands to his face to rub it. Fingers pressed to either side of his nose, slipping up and down shortly before covering over his eyes in an attempt to hide his face.
Why was he so upset by Mydei’s sex life?
Because he didn't have one of his own and felt left out? Because it was so out of the ordinary that he needed to know every detail about it?
Were those even good enough reasons to pry so deeply into his privacy?
“Look…”
He hummed in acknowledgment.
“I don’t know why you care so much, but if it upsets you this much, just… ask,” he encouraged him again. “I’ll tell you about myself, but leave my exes out of it.”
Mydei’s voice felt warmer than ever, like a blanket wrapping around him to pull him back together when he was in pieces. It always did with that nurturing tone.
“Why?” He found the courage to ask, speaking just as softly. “Why do you even like controlling someone?”
“Why do I like taking responsibility for someone?” He reworded, but that didn’t make it sound any better to him. “I have always been good at taking care of people. It’s natural to me.”
Phainon peeked through his fingers, finding that Mydei was still looking at him with his lightened expression. Not angrily. Not defensively. Not even agitatedly. Lightly, like he understood him and his concerns, like he wanted to make him feel better even if it meant exposing his own secrets.
That only made him feel worse for second guessing his supportive character.
“I want someone that wants to please me the way I want to provide for them.” Phainon gulped, listening intently. “That would make it a mutual exchange of power, not a one-sided relationship.”
“And if they don’t listen to you…?”
His heart was pounding. Anxiety simmered underneath his skin for the answer he knew was coming.
“A warning comes first, of course. If they continue past my warnings, I’d have to punish them,” Mydei said as if it were a simple series of events. Just how normal was it for him to punish his partner? “How would they feel if I stopped taking care of them because I simply didn’t want to? This is an agreement, so certain requirements need to be met.”
Phainon nodded slowly, attempting to see it from his point of view. “If you make a promise to someone but don’t keep it, that’s… upsetting,” he reasoned.
“Yes, exactly," Mydei agreed with that comparison. “If someone promises me obedience, I expect obedience. If I promise to take the lead, they expect me to lead them. We both have a role to fulfill.”
That cold, creeping feeling in his stomach still didn’t disappear, but maybe this was making a little bit more sense now than it did half an hour ago.
“What’s a ‘punishment’ to you?” He found himself asking, only realizing a second after that he might not want to know all the details.
“Anything we agree upon. Time away from watching their favorite show, not being able to go out shopping for things they want, not having an extra dessert…” Mydei listed whatever came to mind, and he was silent as he listened. “It could be time alone by themselves away from me, wearing something they don’t like but I do, or something more sexual in nature.”
“Like?”
He hadn’t meant to ask so quickly, but if his best friend noticed, he didn't say anything. Thankfully.
“I could possibly spank them,” he brought up, which was something tamer than he expected him to say. “I could gag them so they can’t talk back or cuff them so they can’t touch me. It’s hard to say because it depends on the person, the offense, and if it was an accident or not. Everyone is different.”
“So, the bruises…”
Mydei shrugged lightly.
“Maybe. It’s a possibility. But I won’t leave them like that. I keep creams and other aid on hand to treat my punishments.” It was said like a promise, like he was swearing that it wasn't as bad as it sounded.
“And that’s… normal… for your relationship?”
“Yes. It’s important to take care of the other person’s wounds and feelings after,” he explained. “Some people do like it though, Phainon. They like being hurt, and that means some people like hurting them. You have to accept that it’s their business, not yours.”
“I don’t care about what other people do,” he brushed off.
Mydei’s lip tilted upwards after hearing that. “You only care about what I do then,” he pointed out.
“You’re my best friend, so of course I want to make sure you're not hurting anyone,” he retorted, circling back around to his first argument. “Don’t look at me so smugly.”
“Have I eased some of your concerns?”
Phainon wasn't entirely sure this conversation did.
He didn’t feel as put off from the idea of him enjoying it anymore, but there was still this whisper that haunted the back of his head. It told him Mydei liked submission, and he liked people who would let him do whatever he wanted with them. That was his fetish. That was something he couldn’t live without as it seemed each secret relationship of his was the same way, with him leading someone else like a pet.
Even if he was a good guy, if he pet stray cats on the streets and rubbed ointment into bruised skin, he craved to reward, punish, and have that authoritarian-type of control.
It hurt in his stomach the longer he thought about it.
“How do you find people to sleep with but not me? I’m not nearly as picky as you are,” he huffed, and Mydei snickered while turning away from him.
“Perhaps I just know how to look in the right places,” was all he said before standing up. “Besides, you only sleep with people after you’ve bought them a wedding ring. I believe that’s a bigger requirement than wanting a naturally submissive person.”
“Not true… I just want to like the person I’m sleeping with.”
Mydei picked the empty takeout boxes left on the coffee table up, and as he walked away, Phainon felt his stomach grumble. The plates of barbecue they had ordered previously were not enough, it seemed.
“Are you still hungry?” He called back to him.
Instead of answering, Phainon chose to grab his forgotten glass and throw back the last of his forgotten drink. It burned lightly going down, warming his throat and chest in the process.
“Phainon, are you deaf?” Mydei grumbled loudly, not hearing as he coughed from the alcohol. “If you’re still hungry, I’ll make you something real quick. What’s in your fridge?”
“I have to go shopping this weekend, so nothing much right now,” he admitted. “I guess I am still a bit hungry though. All I’ve eaten was this today.”
“Tsk. Maybe you need someone to take care of you if you have whiskey in the pantry but not proper food,” he scolded him.
“It just lasts me longer than you! In case you forgot, I’m not a daily drinker like someone is!” Phainon defended himself. “Don’t lump me in with all of your little boy toys, De!”
He came back to the living room soon after, phone in hand as he tapped on the screen repeatedly, dutifully. Each click of his keyboard made him more confused. Every tap made him crane his neck further to peek at the screen.
“What are you doing?”
“Ordering you some groceries for the next few days,” he said casually, and Phainon’s eyes rolled over his protectiveness. “It’s bad for your body to skip meals. You shouldn’t make a habit of doing that, Phainon.”
“I don’t. I just had to get a new tire, so I took it out of my grocery bill,” he told him. “Thanks though, De. I appreciate it. I can pay you back when—”
“Don’t be stupid,” Mydei brushed him off, then placed his phone on the couch beside him. “No more alcohol without food tonight, lightweight. You’ll get sick.”
He never noticed it, but Mydei was always in charge of the things around them. They butted heads because of it, fiery personalities colliding to start a blaze sometimes, but he always tried hard to take care of what, or who, was closest to him. From buying him things without any warning to scolding him when he wasn’t careful with himself, it was as if his best friend was taking responsibility for him.
Was this how he treated his partner—his submissive—in the past?
Did Mydei buy that man things if he couldn’t afford it, ensure he ate enough throughout the day, and take care of his wellbeing if he didn’t care to? Would he reward him with the freshly baked desserts he handed servings out to his friends?
That soft, spongy fruitcake he gave to him, Cyrene, Cassie, and Cifera a few weeks ago on a whim, was that a piece of his ex’s reward?
The thought was amusing and uncomfortable.
“Free trial run,” he snickered to himself as Mydei sat down on the couch beside him again.
“Hm?”
“I was thinkin’—”
“Oh no,” Mydei cringed, and he gasped in offense as the other hung his head. “Now what?”
“—if you act like this to your sub’, then I’m technically the first you ever had,” he teased him, and Mydei was silent as his dance scrunched up momentarily in confusion. “All the things you did for me as your friend, was that how you got into these kinds of things? Was I the free trial before you decided you wanted a premium plan?”
“Stop thinking. It doesn’t suit you,” he deadpanned, not bothering to look at him. “Every time you open your mouth something senseless comes out.”
“C’mon.” Phainon pushed his shoulder lightly, smiling at the way he allowed himself to sway from his touch. “You know I’m right."
“‘Trial run’,” he repeated under his breath, then scoffed. “At this point, my commitment as your best friend will be the longest one I’ll ever have. These so-called ‘premium plans’ don’t last me even a fraction of how long I’ve known you.”
“Don’t jinx our friendship! Knock on wood!” He cried.
“Okay, and where is the wood?” Mydei asked, splaying his hands in front of him as if to tell him to look around them. “Your carpeted floors, your glass coffee table, or your leather couch? Do you have a brain?”
Well, he had a point.
“Smart ass,” he huffed, pushing him again.
“You would give me such a migraine as a submissive,” Mydei sighed, then grabbed the television remote from between them. “‘Trial run’…”
“If you can’t handle me, maybe you should get better at being a dominant. I’m not even doing anything,” he told him, earning a snort.
Mydei’s arm hugged the back of the couch as he raised an eyebrow at him.
“Are you serious? Phainon, you didn’t even know what it meant to be one about ten minutes ago,” he reminded him, sounding both offended and amused by the jab. “You have as much knowledge about BDSM as a house-dog does of the outside world.”
“I am not a dog!”
“You sure bark like one,” he shot back.
“What? Are you gonna muzzle me if I’m barking too much for your taste? Will you punish me for using my free will?” Phainon scoffed, unsure where in his chest it was coming from but feeling as each word climbed his vocal cords and fell from his mouth.
Mydei’s eyes rolled. “With how much you keep bringing this topic up, I’m starting to believe you might want me to.”
“As if I’d want that!” He protested, but the thought brought a sickening tingle throughout his body. It chilled around his chest and inched into the pit of his stomach.
There was no immediate response, but Mydei watched him for a moment as he squirmed within his spot. Amber eyes darted from the way he held on to his own arms, hoping to subtly soothe the prickle of his skin, and then back up to his face where heat had pooled inside of both cheeks. Whether it was the alcohol in his system or not, he didn’t really know, but they were warm. Maybe rosy.
And of course Mydei noticed.
“Are you sure?” He egged him on. “You might enjoy it.”
“Of course I’m sure,” Phainon hissed sharply, looking away from the eyes that always saw right through someone. “I’m not some… some pathetic, subservient mutt. I don’t want someone to dictate my life for me.”
“Don’t lie,” Mydei warned him. “Look at me, and think about it, Phainon. Why are you so interested in it? Why do you keep bringing it up? Why is my style more important than anything online when I told you it’s almost the same?”
“Be—”
“You and I both know it’s not because we’re friends,” he cut him off before he could even get the word out. “Are you interested in this? Do you want a proper trial run of this?”
He was quiet, too busy biting the inside of his lip and trying to push that bubble of confusion, curiosity, and disbelief aside. They mingled together into a tangled knot, one that made his stomach cramp uncomfortably the longer he mulled the question over.
Did he want that?
No… There was no way. He didn’t want to be told what to do with this time or how to behave by someone with a power trip. It didn’t excite him to imagine someone sticking their nose up at him and expecting him to obey.
But this was Mydei. His best friend, Mydei. Would sooner run his bank account dry than let someone struggle in front of him, Mydei.
Mydei wasn’t just someone, and he wasn’t some faceless, nameless ‘dominant’ who didn’t give a damn about how people felt.
“Phainon.”
He looked back at him.
“It’s alright.” Mydei came in closer to steal the space between them. He could feel his presence coming nearer and the warmth radiating off his body. “If you’re curious, it’s best to be honest with me. Don’t joke around with it, and don’t run away from me.”
A shaky breath fell from his lips.
He could feel his heartbeat picking up. Each pound slammed against his ribcage, threatening to break through the bone with each passing moment.
“You can trust me.”
He knew that. He did.
There was only one other person he trusted as much as he did Mydei, but she was currently taking a trip back to her parents’ house. She wasn’t here to ask what to do, and she wouldn’t be for awhile. Texts weren’t the same, and the service was always so bad out there in the countryside that calls felt like pulling teeth with a pair of pliars.
He couldn’t rely on her advice for this, just his own judgement.
“I’m not someone who can let my guard down easily,” he reminded him. “I mean… I haven’t had a relationship since I was a teenager, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t even want someone enough to participate in things like that freely.”
“You’re thinking too much about it.”
“You—!”
When looking back at him, his breathing hitched. The tension in his brows that he didn’t even realize was there smoothed out, and his lips sealed shut before he could even finish his sentence. All the words he wanted to say had been stolen within seconds.
Mydei was there. Right there.
Leaned closer to his height, one hand on his knee and the other on the back of the couch, he was only inches away. Liquor fell from his breath. Crackled leather from his coat and warm amber stained his burgundy collar where a few buttons had been undone. Sunset bangs were swept over the crooked bridge of his nose, kissing his golden cheeks but splitting to reveal his expectant gaze.
“Don’t say ‘someone’ if you mean me,” Mydei instructed him, speaking quieter since he was so close. “You don’t care about them. You said you only cared about me.”
“M-Mydei…”
“You need to be honest with me, Phainon. What do you want out of tonight?” He asked him seriously. “Did you really only call me over to have a few drinks and watch movies?”
Phainon gulped, and as his lips parted for a response, a knock sounded at the door.
Before Mydei could speak, before he could force him to ignore the presence and respond, he bounced on to his feet and rushed over. Stumbling, he used the doorknob and wall to keep himself upright.
The door was pulled open, and he looked at the paper bags left on the floor before glancing to the driver already walking down the steps. Four bags were in front of him, each packed full with things Mydei had picked out for him. From what he could see, there were fresh vegetables and produce, even a few peeking labels of pasta boxes and packed bread.
“I bet the bread and eggs are at the bottom,” Mydei commented from behind him, and he jumped from the proximity. “Here, let me help you put these away.”
Without waiting for a response, he lightly batted him aside to carefully pick up three of the four bags. By chance, or maybe by his design, the last happened to be the least full of them all.
“Thank you again for this, Mydei.”
“What are friends for?”
Phainon locked the door behind him, and as he cradled the brown bag in arms, he watched as Mydei began unpacking them.
“This is a lot for a few days…” He trailed off.
“Three nutritious meals a day, snacks in between, and a little bit of sweets to keep you happy. Doesn’t seem like a lot to me,” he reasoned with him. “You need to eat properly. You’ll lose muscle and weight if you don’t.”
“It wouldn't be that noticeable.”
Mydei stood his ground. “It never is until it is,” he insisted.
The bag in his hands was set beside the others, and as Mydei tucked a bottle of juice away, his shaking fingers grasped the sleeve folded up by his elbow. They curled into the soft fabric, grabbing his attention almost immediately.
“Mydei, look. I’m not really… good at being open about my feelings,” he confessed, staring at his heavy forearm as he was unable to meet his eyes. “To be honest, I-I don’t know why it bothered me so much to know you’re so much more successful in dating than I am…”
A soft hum of encouragement followed, coaxing him to continue speaking his mind.
“Usually we’re so neck-and-neck, but it’s like you’ve got this whole thing figured out while I… don’t.” The awkward, forced laugh that bubbled past his own lips made Phainon cringe on himself lightly. “On top of that, the things you want are so… out there. I needed to understand how you could manage it but I just… can’t.”
“Heh…”
Mydei’s opposite hand planted itself on top of his head, and he grunted quietly over the weight of it.
“Stupid,” he mocked him playfully. “We aren’t competing on who has a better love life. I may have had more partners, but yours have lasted much longer than mine.”
Phainon’s eyes followed a folded sleeve up to the bulge of Mydei’s bicep, then brought his attention towards his face. To his surprise, the other man was ready for it. He met his eyes swiftly, holding on to his gaze.
“And for the record, if it was you, I-I think I could trust you.”
“Could you?” He asked as if he was interested in that statement. “So, if I were to tell you to bring me our dishes from the living room, sit at the bar to keep me company, and let me fix you a small meal, would you listen to me?”
His heart skipped. His stomach knotted.
Exhaling shakily, he gave a singular nod of his head.
“I mean, it’s the same as just straight up asking me as a friend, right?” He laughed nervously, trying not to see it as a test but a simple request. “I wouldn’t… say no… That’s my mess out there too…”
Mydei nodded in the direction of the living room. “Then go,” he said simply, casually, like it wasn’t a thinly veiled command.
“S… Seriously?" He double-checked, and Mydei nodded curtly. “That’s an actual… demand? You want me to—”
“Phainon, please just go,” he repeated himself, softer this time. “Bring me our dishes and that bottle, then come sit down for me.”
His hand let go of him, and he turned to the living room slowly.
“I’m only doing this because I have to clean up my own mess anyway,” he tried to convince him before walking back to the living room. As he did, paper bags crinkled with movement once again.
It felt so odd to hear his best friend talk like that to him. His tone of voice and clear-cut instructions made his stomach tight, but he still wasn’t sure if it was out of disgust or interest. Both feelings grew around one another like roots mingling too close together, using the soil of his insides as a place to mature as one singular flower. A horribly confusing flower that blossomed suddenly, violently, when he thought of BDSM and its complicated nature.
All at once, this was embarrassing and thrilling.
He was upset at himself for rolling over to listen, yet his body was alive in ways he never was before from doing a simple, meaningless task.
Phainon’s fingers shook as they stretched to pick up their twin glasses. The cups rattled from his unsteady hold, glass clinking and echoing a pitched chime. His other hand grasped the neck of their almost-empty bottle of whiskey, eyeing the caramel liquor that was giving him all his strength.
Without it, he probably would have caved in on himself and never called Mydei over in the first place. But three small drinks and he was obeying the other man like some kind of butler…
He almost wanted to throw the last of the bottle back in hopes he could forget tonight entirely come tomorrow morning. It whispered his name, beckoning his lips to meet the opened rim, to reignite that phantom burn down his throat. Maybe it could kill that flower inside of him, burn it from the roots before it could bud.
“Phainon, what’s taking you so long?”
He snapped his attention in the direction of his kitchen, breathless, and carried all three glasses back to Mydei.
What was wrong with him?
“Here,” he offered him, thrusting them all across the counter roughly. “Finish it before I do.”
“I said no more for you tonight.” Mydei took the bottle before removing it from his arm’s reach. “Here. You can have water.”
The words echoed within his head.
‘You can have water.’
This was his apartment. He paid the rent every month for it. This was his kitchen. He bought the bottle Mydei had grabbed from the refrigerator on his last run to the grocery store.
But he could have it. It was his water, but Mydei was giving him permission to drink it instead of the alcohol eyeballing him from across the room. The alcohol he wasn’t allowed to have even if he bought that too.
Phainon stared at the cold bottle, then at his best friend’s back when he turned to chop some lettuce that he definitely didn’t have in his fridge ten minutes ago.
“I can have water,” he repeated to himself quietly, bringing the drink closer. “What else can I have inside of my own place, De?”
“For now, just sit.”
“Yes, master,” he mouthed back.
His knife drove harder into the cutting board, thumping sharply through the otherwise silent room and rattling the couple of spoons left in a dish rack.
“What?” He continued, amused by his still figure and silence. “Gonna keep bossing me around in my own place? Is it getting you off to tell me where I can sit, what I can drink, and decide what I get to eat, De?”
“Phainon…”
“Tell me where to put my bottle when I’m done with it, or when I can head to bed for the night,” he tagged on, warmed by the heat within his cramping stomach.
Mydei’s voice lowered as he set the knife down. “Phainon, stop,” he warned.
“Should I sleep on the left side or the right side of my mattress, master?” He bit back, not caring to listen. “Can I wear a shirt as I sleep, or do I have to be shirtless for your viewing pleasure, master?”
“Phainon, I said that’s enough!”
He flinched back from the strength of his voice, and Mydei looked over his shoulder to stare back at him with a fierce glare.
“Stop acting like a petulant little brat by throwing this tantrum, and stop calling me by that title,” he demanded of him. “I’m no one’s master because I don’t have a partner.”
Gulping, Phainon cracked the seal on his bottle with trembling hands. He threw it back quickly, hoping it could wash away the full-body chill Mydei’s outburst gave him and keep his mouth busy for long enough.
“If you hate this so much, you can say it. You can ask me to stop, and I will.”
He kept drinking, swallowing loudly and slowly.
“Or, we can keep playing this cat-and-mouse game until you make up your mind on how you feel about it,” he allowed. “Either way, if you’re going to be mouthy and disrespectful, I’ll find a way to make you quiet.”
A moment of quiet passed, allowing his threat to hang heavily in the air. Then the chopping sounds continued, proving that he was done speaking and ready to move on.
As Phainon’s bottle lowered, he watched him grab a plump, ripe tomato from the sink before slicing it in half.
“How?” He whispered between the rhythmic clicks of his chopping, and Mydei was still for another second. Nothing but the consistent hum of the refrigerator and crinkle of plastic filled between them.
“How what?”
He felt it, the bud in his stomach peeking in sick, twisted interest to see what comes next.
“How will you make me?”
Mydei brought the knife down and turned around to face him. With a quarter of the produce in one hand, he walked up to him and raised the opposite to grip his chin. His index finger brushed his bottom lip, and his thumbprint pressed firmly to the bone. They held him there steadily, not pulling him closer, pushing him away, or prying to make him drop his jaw.
“Open,” he said firmly.
Sparks popped through his body once more. They tingled in his chest and beneath his belly, buzzing through every nerve like a live current.
When he didn’t part his lips, Mydei stood taller in front of his seated figure. Those deep, honey-gold eyes stared down at him, gluing him into his spot within their syrupy gaze even as his leg bounced rapidly and fists tightened.
Another crinkle filled between them.
“Open your mouth,” he repeated himself, and Phainon slowly lowered his jaw for him. “If you eat it, that tells me you don’t want this.”
The tomato was placed on his tongue, and he made a move to sink his teeth into its flesh just to show Mydei the flex of his jaw, to show him he could just chew it up and swallow it down.
He could end this now. Right now. That was his free will, and it was something Mydei had no control over.
“I’m going to finish this sandwich, and you’re going to sit here quietly until you can eat it,” Mydei said slowly, ignoring his glare and the push back against his authority.
Part of him wanted to spit the thing back at him. How dare he think he could talk to him like that? So what if he did buy him this meal and decide to make it for him? They were friends, not partners. He didn’t owe him submission, and this game was starting to feel less like a game the longer it went on.
But a bigger part of him simply wanted to swallow its sweet juice on his tongue and leave it to fill his mouth. Where would this take them if he committed to this bit they set up? What would it mean for them both if he actually listened and kept it between his teeth?
Did he even want to know?
Phainon sat there silently as Mydei went back to fixing his food, both ashamed by his curiosity and intrigued by the possibilities.
It couldn’t have been that long, maybe even just a few minutes, but the wait felt like forever.
The stretch of his jaw wasn’t uncomfortable. Neither was the weight sitting on his tongue. But what it symbolized made him squirm, itching inside of his seat for this to end. Even without Mydei so much as glancing at him and his fully clothed body, he felt stripped bare for the other man.
A plate was set in front of him soon enough, and he looked down at the cold sandwich before flicking his attention upwards. Silent.
“Did you eat it yet?”
The right side of his lip curled upwards, revealing the bright red tomato still clutched between his teeth. Mydei watched him bite right through it this time, but Phainon decided to close his mouth while chewing.
Then, he swallowed loudly.
“Now I did,” he mouthed off, unsure what that meant for them both moving forward.
Had he completed that punishment? Was he meant to wait for an instruction to swallow?
“You’re going to give me one hell of a headache, Phainon, but if you can be open-minded, then I can be patient,” he told him, hinting at what he was both afraid of and curious about. “Do you want to start a trial run of this dynamic? If you don’t like it, you can cancel at any point in time.”
“Do you offer all your friends a chance to be your submissive, or is it just me?” Phainon found it within himself to joke, laughter being the best cure for confusion and awkwardness.
“You can sleep on it,” he brushed off. “Take the rest of the week to think about it.”
He was… serious about that? If they did this, then what did that mean for them as friends?
“Friends don’t just do things like that together,” he reminded him, wondering how he could be so casual about this all.
“Everyone deserves a safe and comfortable place to explore,” Mydei reasoned. “If I can be that for you, I will. The last thing I want is for you to look elsewhere and get hurt in the process.”
Phainon nodded, taking the dish from him and admiring its clean cut halves and impressive height. Packed full of vegetables and meat, it seemed Mydei was determined to make sure he ate enough before he went to bed for the night.
“You know, you’d make a good boyfriend if you actually dated instead of playing king or something.”
He huffed, acting annoyed for the sake of his joke. “You could make for a good submissive, if you aren’t scared of a spanking every now and then."
Everything inside of him lit up at the thought of possibly being spanked by his best friend’s heavy hand. Red flashed violently inside of his head from the sirens that screamed, ‘do you really want to be hit’. Sparks the size of fireworks bursted within his veins, each booming loudly as if to drown out those cries of reason.
“I don’t really…” Phainon cut himself off, trying to wrack his hazy mind of what he wanted to say rather than whatever was instinctual. “No. I never actually thought about having sex with you before.”
His best friend was an attractive man—that was an undeniable fact. Anyone with eyes could see how he meticulously upkept his appearance and his health, always making sure to fit a workout into even the busiest of schedules and dressing himself luxuriously. Being friends since childhood meant he had seen him in various states of undress, and his body was that of the gods chiseled from old, marble slabs.
But just because Mydei was attractive, that didn’t mean he ever considered having sex with him until his brain was infected by things like sadism and bondage.
Mydei shrugged in response. “We don’t have to have sex,” he reassured him.
Was BDSM not inherently sexual? Was pulling someone’s pants down and smacking their bare ass repeatedly not considered a sexual act?
Phainon lowered his eyes to the hands in front of him, to the thick fingers drumming over the counter, their trimmed nails, and the golden ring glistening on his pinky. He tried imagining them on his body. He tried to envision the heat of his palm when he cocked his hand back to swing it against his bottom, the strength of his grip as he grabbed on to his body in pleasure, and the stretch of them possibly buried inside of him like the toy tucked into his bedside dresser. The hands that pushed him when he got annoying and held him when falling apart, how would they feel trying to please him?
A blank card was drawn.
He had never gotten that far with a man, and he couldn’t quite picture what it’d be like to have his hands on him.
Mydei’s arm lifted, and his focus followed until it reached to tuck a strand of sunset gold hair behind his ear. There, he looked back at his eyes.
“That is a subject we can talk about if you agree to continue. I have nothing else to say on that as of now,” he brushed off. “Please eat.”
“If I agree, will that ruin our friendship?” He asked quietly. “How could we go back to being the way we were if we…”
Phainon didn’t need to finish his sentence. The sincere expression on Mydei’s face said all he needed to know.
A twitch pulled on his lip, and he sighed before picking at the corner of his sandwich.
“Do you promise?”
Losing him would be the worst outcome of all. Forget the bruises that may happen. Forget giving up his autonomy. Forget being seen as a perverted freak for agreeing to try. If he lost his best friend because of this, what would be the point of anything after?
“Our friendship will not change, Phainon.”
Nervous laughter bubbled from his lips as he realized he was seriously contemplating agreeing, and his clean hand pushed the other man away when he took a few steps closer. It was instinctual. His body just moved to do the first thing he could think of, and it just felt right to do.
Though Mydei swayed, he didn’t move from his spot beside him at the bar. And though he only meant to push, his hand didn’t move away from the plush muscle of his bicep.
It was comforting to feel him there, especially since this was uncharted territory he was blindly waltzing into. His only guide through the maze, and his only support in this secret endeavor, was him. He had to hold him.
Who knew where he’d end up if he didn’t.
“Let’s talk about it some other time,” Phainon suggested, overwhelmed by everything they had talked about. “I would love to eat, then get ready for bed. If I’m lucky, I’ll forget this in the morning.”
“You didn’t drink nearly enough for that. Don’t delude yourself,” he chuckled back at him, allowing himself to be held.
He almost wished he drank more. Things would be so much easier if he woke up with nothing but a head and magic groceries in his refrigerator.