There is something calming to being known; to fall into routine with another person; to learn of one another’s little habits and quirks and to cradle them like your own. Mydei and Anaxa are fortunate to be granted such a privilege. Have bled and fought for it.
It starts with damp, tousled hair getting brushed through with a towel and careful hands. Once dry, loose braids are tied with matching hairpieces, shimmering in gold like the bands around their fingers. The braids may come loose during the night, but that will only give them an excuse to repeat this mutual act of affection in the morning—one they both quietly look forward to, even if they will not admit it.
It continues with soft hums of released tension and lips curling when a kiss is pressed to bare skin. /You look wonderful/ is confessed with a rumble, and /You say this every night/ is said with a smile. Their eyes shimmer with the things that go unspoken. Tired laughs and half-hearted reprimands fill the air like a gentle tune growing quiet to make room for the night.
It ends with loose clothes and warm bodies being welcomed by their shared bed. Mydei always lets Anaxa slip below the covers first, and he says there’s no reason behind it, but Anaxa doesn’t buy it. In truth, it’s Mydei’s own little act of greed to be welcomed by an already warmed bed and a smile he would die for. It’s a blessing he does not take for
granted—one he selfishly wants for himself every night.
And Anaxa does not mind this part of their silent pact. He does not mind to lay in wait and see Mydei’s eyes grow soft when gazing upon his form. He does not mind to await the man who had to carry too much grief with open arms and grant him the embrace he’s too hardened to ask for.
Every night, their limbs move in unison like a practiced dance as they slot together. And every night, Mydei’s arms wind around Anaxa like it’s his own source of stability. He presses his ear against Anaxa’s chest to listen for the newborn heartbeat and the way it skips with joy. He surrounds himself with Anaxa’s scent and lets it soothe the nightmares that fray the edges of his drifting mind.
It’s Mydei’s comfort, to lay like this—tucked below Anaxa’s chin, eased into sleep with fingers carding through his hair and a kiss pressed to the top of his head so featherlight it borders a dream. It’s his comfort as well as his responsibility he has vowed to protect—one that fills his chest with pride. It’s his greatest honor, worth more than any crown could be.
“Good night, Your Highness,” Anaxa quietly says, using a title that bears no weight anymore; a habit too dear to drop. “Rest well,” he adds even softer, noting the way Mydei’s hold around him tightens and how his own heart flutters even from such a simple act. This, too, is Anaxa’s own little act of greed—embracing Mydei’s loyal and fierce affection and claiming it all for himself.
Because Mydei’s quiet exhale and muffled /you too/—already stretched by sleep pulling at his muscles—speaks volumes. It’s laden with trust, with relief, with affection and the promise of a morrow that awaits them. And Anaxa presses both the present and future they have worked so hard for against his chest, determined to do his part in bringing security and safety to the man in his arms.
Just some domestic #mynaxa to heal the soul 💕 #🍷♦️🍷 #velwip
