Chapter Text
The coffee maker beeped at 4:47 PM, pulling Phainon from sleep. He lay in bed for a moment, listening to the familiar sounds of Mydei moving around the apartment. The shower running, cabinets opening and closing, the quiet conversation Mydei was having with Pixel about breakfast.
This was Phainon's favorite part of waking up. Those few minutes of listening to proof that he wasn't alone anymore.
He finally dragged himself out of bed, shuffling into the kitchen in his pajama pants and one of Mydei's old boxing gym t-shirts that he'd claimed months ago. Mydei was at the stove, hair still damp from the shower, making scrambled eggs.
"You're up early," Phainon said, wrapping his arms around Mydei from behind.
"Couldn't sleep. Figured I'd make us actual breakfast for once instead of our usual midnight snacks." Mydei leaned back into the embrace. "Coffee's ready."
Phainon poured himself a cup and sat at the kitchen table, watching Mydei cook. They'd been living together for eight months now, not because they'd formally discussed it, but because Mydei had gradually moved in one drawer at a time until it seemed ridiculous to maintain his other apartment.
The lease had been up in March. Mydei had stood in Phainon's living room with a box of his remaining belongings and asked, "So, do I need to find a new place or...?"
"Don't be an idiot," Phainon had said. "You already live here."
That had been that.
Now Mydei's boxing memorabilia hung on the wall next to Phainon's framed astronomy prints. Their shoes were mixed together by the door. The bathroom counter held both their toothbrushes, their skincare products, the reading glasses Mydei refused to admit he needed for small text.
"Toast?" Mydei asked, plating the eggs.
"Yeah. Thanks." Phainon scrolled through his phone, checking work emails. "I've got that video call with the Tokyo client at seven. Should be done by nine if you want to hit the gym after."
"Works for me. I've got a session with that new kid at the community center at eleven." Mydei brought over two plates and sat down. "The one with the prosthetic leg. He's making really good progress."
They ate in comfortable silence, the kind that came from spending nearly every night together for the better part of a year. Phainon had worried initially that too much proximity would make things feel stale or obligatory. Instead, he'd discovered that domesticity had its own quiet intimacy.
Like how Mydei automatically made enough coffee for both of them now. Or how Phainon had learned that Mydei liked his eggs slightly runny but his toast borderline burnt. Small pieces of knowledge that added up to partnership.
"Your mom called yesterday while you were working," Mydei said between bites. "She wants to know if we're coming for Christmas."
"What did you tell her?"
"That I'd check with you, but probably yes." Mydei paused. "Unless you don't want to. I know family stuff stresses you out."
"It's fine. She'll just worry if we don't go." Phainon took another sip of coffee. "Fair warning, she's going to ask when we're getting married."
"She asked that last time."
"And she'll ask again. It's her favorite topic." Phainon tried to sound annoyed but couldn't quite manage it. His mother's enthusiasm about their relationship had been surprisingly touching, even when it manifested as intrusive questions about their future.
"What do you tell her?"
"That we're taking it slow. That there's no rush." Phainon met Mydei's eyes across the table. "Is that okay? Or do you want to have the conversation about timelines and commitments?"
"I'm good with where we are." Mydei reached over and squeezed his hand. "Living together, doing life together. The rest is just paperwork."
"My romantic pragmatist."
"Someone has to balance out your secret sentimentality."
Phainon threw a piece of toast at him. Mydei caught it and took a bite, grinning.
After breakfast, Phainon showered and settled into his office for the video call. The Tokyo client was pleasant but demanding, walking him through a complex integration issue that took two hours to resolve instead of the planned ninety minutes. By the time Phainon emerged, it was past nine and Mydei was on the couch with his laptop, working through some community center scheduling.
"Ready for the gym?" Mydei asked, looking up.
"Give me ten minutes to decompress first. That call was brutal."
Phainon collapsed onto the couch beside him, and Mydei automatically shifted to make room, letting Phainon lean against his shoulder. They sat like that for a while, Mydei typing one-handed while Phainon scrolled through his phone, Pixel purring between them.
This was another thing Phainon had learned, that being together didn't always require active engagement. Sometimes it was enough just to share space and exist in parallel orbits that occasionally intersected.
"Okay," Phainon said eventually. "Let's go lift heavy things."
The gym at 10 PM was moderately busy, more people than their usual 3 AM sessions but still manageable. They'd adjusted their schedule after Mydei had started working regular hours at the community center, finding a new routine that accommodated both their needs.
They worked out side by side, trading equipment and offering occasional form corrections. A couple of regulars nodded at them in recognition. They'd become a known fixture, the pair who always came together and spotted each other.
"I'm thinking about applying for the fitness director position," Mydei said during a water break. "The current director is retiring in March."
"That's a promotion, right? More responsibility?"
"Yeah. More money too, which would be nice. But it's also more administrative work, less direct teaching." Mydei looked uncertain. "I'm not sure if I want that. I like working with the participants."
"You could do both. Delegate some of the admin stuff." Phainon wiped sweat from his face with his towel. "You'd be good at it. You're already basically doing that job anyway, you just don't get paid for it."
"Maybe. I'll think about it." Mydei drained his water bottle. "Your turn on the bench."
They finished their workout and headed to the diner, sliding into their usual booth. The waitress didn't even ask anymore, just brought them pancakes and coffee and the occasional eye roll when they stayed too long nursing refills.
"Dr. Martinez thinks I'm doing really well," Mydei said, drowning his pancakes in syrup. "She said I've made a lot of progress with the identity stuff. Finding purpose outside boxing."
"You have. You seem happier."
"I am." Mydei looked up, something soft in his expression. "A lot of that is you, you know. Having someone to come home to, someone who gets why I am the way I am. It makes everything easier."
Phainon felt warmth spread through his chest. "Same. I spent so long thinking my condition made me undateable. That I'd always be alone because I was too complicated. You proved that wrong."
"You were never too complicated. You just needed someone willing to adapt." Mydei reached across the table and laced their fingers together. "Which, for the record, is not some noble sacrifice on my part. I like our life. I like our weird schedule and our midnight dinners and our 3 AM gym sessions. It works."
"It does work." Phainon squeezed his hand. "I love you."
"Love you too." Mydei said it easily, the way he'd been saying it for months now. The novelty had worn off, replaced by something more reliable. "Even when you steal my t-shirts."
"It's not stealing if we live together. It's community property."
"That's not how that works."
"It's exactly how that works."
They argued about it cheerfully through the rest of their meal, both of them knowing the t-shirt would remain in Phainon's rotation regardless of the legal technicalities.
Back at the apartment, they went through their nighttime routine with the choreographed ease of long practice. Phainon brushed his teeth while Mydei flossed. Mydei set the alarm while Phainon checked that all the blackout curtains were properly closed. They climbed into bed from their respective sides, Pixel immediately claiming the space between them.
"I've got an early session tomorrow," Mydei said, setting his phone on the nightstand. "Seven AM kid who can only come before school."
"Ugh. That's practically the middle of the night for you."
"I know. But his mom's a single parent working two jobs. I'm not going to make it harder for her." Mydei rolled toward Phainon. "I'll try not to wake you when I leave."
"You always wake me. Your shoulder cracks when you stretch."
"It does not."
"It absolutely does. Sounds like bubble wrap."
Mydei poked him in the ribs, making Phainon squirm. They wrestled briefly, careful not to disturb Pixel, before settling back into their positions.
"You working tomorrow?" Mydei asked, his hand finding Phainon's under the covers.
"Yeah, couple hours in the afternoon. Then I'm free." Phainon thought about his calendar. "We should do something. Go to that used bookstore that stays open late, maybe."
"The one with the cat?"
"That's the one."
"I'm in. I need something new to read anyway." Mydei yawned. "Okay, I'm fading. Night."
"Night."
Mydei fell asleep quickly, his breathing evening out within minutes. Phainon stayed awake a bit longer, scrolling through his phone, responding to a few work messages. Beside him, Mydei shifted in his sleep, unconsciously moving closer until they were pressed together from shoulder to hip.
Phainon set his phone aside and let himself appreciate the moment. The warmth of another person beside him. The sound of Pixel's purring. The knowledge that when he woke up tomorrow evening, Mydei would be there, probably on the couch with his laptop, or in the kitchen making dinner, or at the gym if Phainon slept too late.
And somehow, that felt more romantic than any of the dramatic relationship moments Phainon had imagined when he was younger. The quiet sustainability of it. The knowledge that this would be there tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that.
Not because they'd made grand promises, but because they'd chosen each other repeatedly in small ways. Every time Mydei adjusted his schedule to match Phainon's. Every time Phainon wore Mydei's old t-shirts because they smelled like home. Every time they met each other in the middle and made it work.
That was love too. Not the saturated, desperate version from movies and songs. But the gentle, persistent version that showed up day after day and didn't demand anything more than presence and effort and patience.
Phainon curled closer to Mydei's warmth, closed his eyes, and let sleep take him.