Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Mydeimos is hiding something," Ptolemy says, with the determinedness of a commander as his friends are still holding their belongings.

"Good afternoon, Ptolemy. Oh, my day went great, Ptolemy." Perdikkas drops his laptop and notes onto the table across from Ptolemy, his eyebags prominent against his pale skin. He does not bring coffee to the library, but they're sure he's running on his third cup of the day, like every other medical student.

Leonnius sits beside Ptolemy with his own laptop set on the table. "You're not usually the type to gossip. What's up this time?"

Perdikkas opens his laptop and goes right to work without acknowledging the conversation. Leonnius isn't fooled—he knows Perdikkas lives for the drama, and he'll always be in earshot when Leonnius drops the latest news to their close group of friends.

Ptolemy, however, basically lives in the library. He doesn't gossip about their social lives, unless that includes bitching about someone who borrowed a book he wanted to read. Ptolemy willingly indulging in the woes of idle chatter is like watching the world flip over.

Ptolemy thumbs at a page as he replies, "Well, he told me that he'd study with me yesterday. When he didn't turn up, I texted him and he apologised and said he forgot."

Concise and direct to the point, as Ptolemy usually is, and missing a whole lot of information that Leonnius wants. "…And you came to the conclusion that he's hiding something?"

The scritching sound of a fountain pen on thick paper follows. Leonnius wonders if Ptolemy has decided to discard this whole conversation, like the bastard he is.

Then, Ptolemy says, "I asked if he was busy with other matters and he told me not to worry about it. But he seemed pretty rattled when he arrived, something about losing track of time at the gym."

"Without Hephaestion?"

Ptolemy nods. "Hephaestion was in class."

Now this is the tea Leonnius is hunting for. Mydeimos and Hephaestion are almost inseparable when they aren't drowning in lectures and assignments. And they're workout fanatics who spend most of their free time in the university gym or the library. It's a buy-one-get-one-free deal with them.

"They broke up?"

"They were never together."

Leonnius scrunches his nose. "Allegedly."

Perhaps their friends aren't in the most conventional relationship, but there's certainly something brewing there. It's like having emotionally unavailable parents who might love you but only have eyes for each other. At least that's what Leonnius assumed, until he learned of this groundbreaking news.

Perdikkas cuts into their chatter like a hot knife through butter. "Why are you acting like this means that Mydeimos and Hephaestion burned their bridges? Is Mydeimos not allowed to go to the gym by himself?"

"He was distracted, Perdikkas," Leonnius emphasises with a wave of his hand. Not that Perdikkas can see it; he's still glaring at his screen. "Since when does Mydeimos miss an appointment just because he's hitting the gym? He must have been distracted by a person. Someone that isn't Hephaestion."

"You're making a lot of assumptions."

"I'm deriving information from context clues. Work with me here, Ptolemy."

Ptolemy does not work with Leonnius. He glances towards the library entrance before returning to his book. Leonnius is pretty sure he's looking at Romantic poetry.

"Where's Peucesta?"

"When does Peucesta ever come to the library willingly," Leonnius replies impatiently. "He's probably practising in the rehearsal room. Don't change the subject. You think Mydeimos is hiding a lover, don't you?"

Perdikkas shakes his head. "You are grasping at straws. Reaching for conclusions that don't exist."

"I didn't say a lover. I said 'something'," Ptolemy adds on.

Leonnius wonders why he's even friends with them in the first place. He stares at his closed laptop forlornly, before making a decision.

"I'll go to the gym later and catch Mydeimos red-handed."

Perdikkas only sighs while Ptolemy shrugs. Yeah. Leonnius is in desperate need of new friends.

Mydeimos is kind of like a cat. If he doesn't want to be found, not even Janus themselves would be able to locate him, even with his schedule memorised. And without Hephaestion around, Mydeimos does not want to be found quite often.

So, when Leonnius runs into him on the way to the gym, he has half the mind not to get on his knees and thank Mydeimos for gracing him with his presence.

"Mydeimos! I suppose I cannot say I'm surprised to see you here."

Mydeimos huffs in amusement, his duffel bag slung over one bare shoulder as he falls in line with Leonnius. "You're the one that hasn't been to the gym recently, Leonnius. Nor have you been at the library. Slacking off?"

"First of all, I was at the library just this afternoon. Ptolemy and Perdikkas can vouch for me." And they discussed meeting up in their group chat, but Mydeimos checks that thing once every week, so he doesn't bother bringing it up. "Secondly, where's Hephaestion? I figured he'd be with you around this time."

Hook him in and trap him in this conversation. Leonnius is familiar with how Mydeimos functions in the few social interactions he allows—no beating around the bush, no unnecessary small talk, and most importantly, that he will exit the discussion with grace if he deems it a waste of his time and you are obligated to respect it. Being in the presence of Mydeimos is an endorsement from the divine, and to squander the opportunity with careless words would be an ignominy.

A little dramatic, but hey, if it gets the point across.

Mydeimos says, "He's been holed up in his room studying for the past few days. I texted him earlier and he said he'll join me after he finishes the case he's doing."

Well. At least Leonnius doesn't have to deal with a post-not-breakup Mydeimos. He might lose his life—or legs—in that hypothetical scenario.

"So Hephaestion is making you work out all alone. What a cruel man…"

Mydeimos snorts, swatting at Leonnius's wandering hand reaching for his head. "You jest poorly. I do not need his company to come to the gym."

Leonnius nods placatingly in reply. Next step: find out what distracted the vigilant Mydeimos into forgetting an arrangement he made.

He's tapping his chin curiously when Mydei shoots him a look. Too vigilant.

"Spit it out, Leonnius."

He raises his hands in surrender as they walk through the glass doors of the gym. Cold air hits his face like a bucket of water, and it takes all his effort not to curse and splutter.

"Spit what out? There's nothing to spit out."

Mydei raises an eyebrow at him, but doesn't say more.

The university gym is awfully crowded past dusk. Unlike Leonnius, who is sensible and usually works out in the mornings and the occasional night, Mydeimos and Hephaestion seem to take pleasure in fighting for benches and weights in the evenings. Or maybe they're just at the gym that often, which is a terrifying thought.

Leonnius is shoving his bag into a locker and praying everything stays intact when someone approaches them. Specifically, approaching Mydeimos.

Nikador bless us. A stranger attempting to converse with Mydeimos always ends badly. Because there are only ever two reasons people come up to stone-cold Mydeimos: he looks like the toughest guy in the room for a spar, or they're trying their luck with the hot guy that caught their eye with no regard for the prickly apathy in his expression.

If Leonnius had the eloquence Ptolemy does, he'd gladly rave and wax poetic about the beauty Mydeimos carries. It's only natural, of course, because it's Mydeimos. Mydeimos, who draws in anyone who even glances in his vicinity, because his presence is just that impactful.

Mydeimos is like the sun, shining bright and leading others to his way, whether he likes it or not. Amassing enough warmth and passion to develop his own gravitational axis, yet forcing you to keep your distance lest you want to be burnt.

Alas, this man who walks up to Mydeimos does not seem like the latter. Leonnius hopes that he's not dragged into spectating another brawl in the boxing ring, because the last one ended up with an extremely salty opponent who tried to have a go at Leonnius next and an unimpressed Hephaestion. That was four months ago, and he still has nightmares about it.

"Hey man," the man says, gruff but respectful. "You're real talented in the ring and you have impressive stamina, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't spend another five hours boxing today too. Some of us want a turn in there too."

Ah.

What.

Leonnius gapes at Mydeimos, stunned silent. He watches Mydeimos blink, then reaches up to flick his braid over his shoulder.

He's seen Mydeimos embarrassed a grand total of four times. It's that same mussing of his hair he likes to do, except it's less confident and more meek. Bashful, even. Leonnius assumed that only Hephaestion was able to make Mydeimos nervous. He's clearly assumed wrong.

"Right. My apologies, it won't happen again."

Mydei is apologising. Is Leonnius still in a nightmare? Has he passed on to the afterlife?

The guy nods in response before walking away. Leonnius releases a breath he didn't even know he was holding. He turns to look at Mydei.

"Five hours? Was this yesterday?"

Mydei rolls his eyes and scoffs, crossing his arms as he turns away from Leonnius. "…I'm sure it's exaggerated. We took a couple of breaks."

Right. Except— "Who in the nether realm is we?"

Mydeimos seems almost inhuman sometimes. Perfect looks; a mind of steel; unbelievably kind despite his rough exterior. Most importantly, his prowess in combat sports is second to none.

Leonnius vows to think twice before spreading gossip about the wrong person. The fact that there is someone out there who could rival Mydeimos' monstrous aptitude in the boxing ring is horrifying, to put it lightly. He knows it's not Hephaestion—his chronic illness wouldn't allow him to train that long, and he certainly would not approve of Mydeimos pushing his limits unnecessarily.

Huh. He wouldn't blackmail Mydeimos, but the thought is entertaining enough.

Mydeimos sighs, aggrieved. "Pay no mind. I was arguing with someone, and it got out of hand, that is all."

Leonnius stares at Mydeimos' back. Then says, "It sounds like we should definitely pay it more mind, if you ended up in the ring with someone you were arguing with!"

Someone who can keep up with Mydeimos. Perhaps not even Kephale can save them.

"That's not—" Mydeimos starts, before cutting himself off to reiterate his words. "It wasn't really an argument. He was goading me into sparring with him, and he managed to get on my nerves. It's truly no matter; I do not plan to cross paths with that man again."

Leonnius watches Mydeimos walk out of the locker room, to the middle of the gym for his warm-up.

A mystery man who wants to spar Mydeimos, and has the ability to back it up. Leonnius grins to himself as he makes his way to the treadmills. Gathering information is what he does best, after all.

"Mydeimos."

"Peucesta." The door swings shut.

Peucesta looks back down at his score, and back up to Mydeimos again. His fingers toy with the guitar string as Mydeimos takes a seat by the piano.

"…Should I ask why you're here?"

Mydeimos shakes his head, gesturing for him to continue his practice. Peucesta does, but his focus has waned, his attention now on the way Mydeimos fiddles with the hem of his sweater or rocks his leg.

That's the thing about Mydeimos. He's never hesitant. Yet, here they are, and it's getting on Peucesta's nerves too. His grip on the fretboard feels cold and unsteady; the notes on the score sheet seem to dance around haphazardly.

He finally gives in after four minutes of wordless tunes. "I feel like I should still ask you what's wrong."

Mydeimos startles, eyes darting from his hands to Peucesta's gaze. It's quite unfortunate that they're on his turf and not Mydeimos', because Peucesta is unable to escape the foreboding trainwreck glinting in Mydeimos' eyes.

"I met… someone."

Peucesta closes his eyes and prays to Nikador for mercy. Hm. Perhaps he might have better luck with Mnestia.

"I don't think I'm the best person to discuss your romantic endeavours with. Wouldn't Hephaestion or Ptolemy be more open to this conversation?"

Mydei splutters, nearly slipping off the seat. "That's not what I meant! Nothing romantic!"

Peucesta sighs in relief, resting his guitar on the stand beside him. He recalls Leonnius bursting in a couple of days ago to ramble about how Mydeimos is acting oddly. Peucesta did not pay it much mind at the time—it's Leonnius, after all; half the gossip that comes from him is information on people Peucesta has never even met—but now he wishes he had listened to his friend.

"What are you pondering about, then? Surely this someone you speak of is not significant enough for you to be so preoccupied."

Mydeimos sighs, returning to tugging at the sleeve of his sweater. "This incorrigible person keeps challenging me at the gym. I agreed the first few times, but I soon told him I do not entertain the whims of strangers and he should stop approaching me."

Mydeimos pauses. He glances up at an attentive Peucesta, and turns his gaze away.

"Then, he asked for my number so we could 'get to know each other better'. I didn't want to agree, but he kept following me around. So." Mydei gestures weakly at his phone on the fallboard of the piano.

Peucesta stares.

"Uhm."

"And he invited me to a cafe tomorrow."

Although he has never seen it with his own eyes—Peucesta prefers surrounding himself with the sound of music rather than human voices, sue him—he knows that Mydeimos is not unfamiliar with the concept of being asked out. It comes with the dashing looks and laid-back personality. He also knows that Mydeimos does not mince his words when rejecting the affections of others, because, well. It's Mydeimos.

A non-issue becoming an issue implies that Mydeimos cares, which is unorthodox and revolutionary and Peucesta really wishes he listened to Leonnius.

At the moment, all Peucesta can come up with is, "…I just said I am not the best person to discuss this with."

Mydeimos sinks his face into his hands.

"Perdikkas—"

"No way. Why are you even here in the library if you aren't studying? You should have joined Hephaestion and Ptolemy when they went to the markets."

Leonnius is fighting a losing battle, but he turns to Peucesta with the most pathetic expression he could possibly muster.

Peucesta does not look his way.

Leonnius groans, prodding at his laptop with a finger. "My essay can wait! I just really need to know what happened on Mydeimos' date."

"So ask him yourself when he gets back from the restroom."

"Well, he's not going to tell me."

Perdikkas shrugs in a way that says "not my problem". Leonnius drops his head to the table. Maybe he should have joined the other two.

After a moment of rumination, he finally considers working on his public relations assignment, his head peeking from the crevice of his arms.

A phone buzzes on the table. Nothing out of the ordinary; no one pays it any mind.

Then, another buzz comes in. And another.

By the fifth notification, Peucesta says, "Turn off your alerts, Leonnius."

"Why are you accusing me? My phone's in my pocket."

Perdikkas looks up for the first time in two hours, glancing at his own device beside his laptop. He blinks and frowns at Peucesta. "Not mine either."

Almost comically, all three of them look towards Mydeimos' empty seat. His phone sits conspicuously on top of his book.

"… Let's just leave it," Perdikkas says.

Leonnius would be damned if he let this slip out of his grasp. He taps at the now-darkened screen with a grin, watching the phone light up to a wallpaper of pancakes and fruits.

"Isn't this an invasion of privacy?" Peucesta asks, all while leaning forward to squint at the messages.

"You're just as curious as I am, admit it." Leonnius has a terrible angle on the onslaught of notification banners at the bottom of the screen. He hopes Peucesta is kind enough to recite the texts. "I thought Mydeimos had all his notifications turned off."

"Six messages from 'HKS'." Perdikkas looks up with a raised brow. "Probably not his date, then."

"Who else would Mydeimos allow text notifications from? Read out the messages."

Peucesta sighs, like he isn't on the side of the table with the juicy gossip. Seriously, why does the guy who has no interest in this stuff always get the news?

"Hm. 'Are you free this Friday?' 'After your lecture, of course, I know you're a nerd that never skips class.' 'Promise it's not the gym this time, because I know how to be dignified—'" Peucesta makes a face and leans away. "Definitely an invasion of privacy."

"Who in the world has the confidence to sextuple text Mydeimos?" It's like antagonising a lion. A very ferocious lion.

"The guy who's able to box Mydeimos for five hours, I suppose," Perdikkas replies amid the clicking of his keyboard. "Unsurprisingly, he couldn't stay away from someone who can stand their ground against him."

Perdikkas and keeping up with the drama that he insists he doesn't want to hear. It's basically an art.

Leonnius snatches up the phone to scan through the messages himself. Titans, this dude sends Mydeimos chimera stickers.

The longer he reads through the texts, the more confounded he feels.

"This dude's… kind of pathetic. Is he begging for Mydeimos' attention?"

Perdikkas, that marble statue of a man, finally moves to lean over Leonnius. He swears he can hear bones creaking.

A momentous occasion like this one deserves complete silence. Leonnius holds the phone still as Perdikkas scans through the messages.

"…Well, I guess it's working," he finally says. The disbelief in his voice mimics Leonnius' inner thoughts. "Mydeimos likes losers."

"Please don't say that about Mydeimos," Peucesta sighs.

Leonnius returns the phone to its original position. "I can't believe Mydeimos uses an insult as a pet name. How am I supposed to find out who 'HKS' is?"

"You don't," Peucesta drily replies. "You mind your own business and stay out of Mydeimos'."

"Getting into other people's is my business!"

"No—" Mydeimos' voice is deep and drawn out behind him. "—getting into other people's business is an unfortunate habit of yours."

Leonnius nearly jumps out of his seat as he turns to look at Mydeimos walking in their direction. Then, he turns to glare at Peucesta, who has his hands raised in surrender. Traitor.

"It's a form of networking. Learning about people you haven't met, so you aren't completely clueless when you do meet them. And sometimes, you meet someone who can assist you in whatever predicament you find yourself in!" Leonnius leans back against the chair as nonchalantly as he's seen Mydeimos do it. Except without the aura, he supposes. "You took a while."

"Are you timing my restroom visits or something?"

Mydeimos rounds the table to return to his seat. He walks like he owns the room—graceful and regal, like a king in a palace.

He doesn't seem to realise that they were snooping around with his phone. Mydeimos glances at his phone and watches as the screen lights up.

Leonnius sneaks a look as Mydeimos reads the messages. He's pretty sure Perdikkas is eyeing him too.

But…

Mydeimos doesn't react. He puts his phone aside and picks up his book. He doesn't even reply to the invitation to a date.

Leonnius makes a hand gesture that he hopes indicates "what the fuck" under the table. Perdikkas swats his hand away, but the unintelligible grunt under his breath says it all.

Mydeimos is heartless.

When there's something you want to know about Mydeimos but you're too scared to ask him directly, you go to Hephaestion. Hephaestion's a busy guy—law school and all that—but he's kind and helpful and doesn't snap at people like Mydeimos does.

Unlike the other students, Leonnius isn't scared of Mydeimos. He's just… too much of a chatterbox for Mydeimos to give him direct answers to certain questions.

So, here they are. Leonnius, Hephaestion, and goddamn Perdikkas stuffed around a small table in the corner of a cafe popular with the university students. He gives it two minutes before Perdikkas berates him for his nosiness, like the hypocrite he is.

"Hephaestion."

"Leonnius."

Perdikkas snorts. "We've known each other for six years. Quit that."

Hephaestion laughs, slapping Perdikkas on the shoulder. "Don't ruin the moment. It's ten in the morning; you shouldn't already be grumpy."

"The fact that it's ten in the morning and I know what is going to come out of Leonnius' mouth is exactly why I'm grumpy."

A new record. Leonnius throws his hands up. He really can never win with Perdikkas.

Hephaestion turns to Leonnius after that incredible setup by Perdikkas. Well, no turning back now.

"Who is Mydeimos seeing? We've been dying to know here!"

"You," Perdikkas quickly corrects.

"We."

"You," Hephaestion cuts in, "are both nosy."

Hah. Headshot. Perdikkas looks terribly offended, mouth open and ready to argue about how he shouldn't be lumped in with the likes of Leonnius when Hephaestion raises his hand.

"I'm surprised you haven't run into him yet. He's quite popular on campus."

"Mydeimos is dating someone popular?" Perdikkas echoes. Leonnius rolls his eyes. Hypocrite.

Hephaestion nods, as if it should be a fact everyone is aware of. Leonnius is very much not aware.

"How am I supposed to know who I'm running into? I don't know anything about Mydeimos' lover! No description, no major, nothing!" Leonnius takes a sip of his coffee and winces. Still too hot.

"Three weeks ago, you were still under the impression that Hephaestion is Mydeimos' lover." See? Right under the bus. He's starting to think Perdikkas actually hates him. "Next, you'll start a conspiracy about how Mydeimos is hiding his love life because he's dating a fugitive."

Leonnius stares at him. "Your perception of me is astoundingly bleak."

Hephaestion squints, like he's trying to figure out whether they're joking. Perdikkas, infamously, never jokes.

"Well," Hephaestion says, "I believe he's in engineering. And he's in multiple sports clubs."

"You're purposefully making this difficult, aren't you?"

Hephaestion shrugs, but the amusement is evident on his face. Perdikkas shakes his head, eyeing the exit conspicuously. Leonnius adjusts his chair so that Perdikkas can't run for it.

"Dickhead," he mutters, leaning back in defeat.

"You can't just take the good stuff and run off." Leonnius grins. "Hey, Hephaestion, when was the last time we worked out together?"

Perdikkas pales.

"Ah. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Hold on," Perdikkas intervenes. His fate is sealed, but he tries to dig himself out with the desperation of a trapped animal. "I agreed to hang out at the cafe, not join you knuckleheads at the gym."

Leonnius nods. "So you did."

Hephaestion slings his arm around Perdikkas, dragging him out of the chair. Struggle is futile, and Perdikkas is no fool.

"I'll get you guys back for this."

Jewellery adorning Mydeimos' body is as common as seeing Ptolemy in the library. He's all golds and reds, like precious metals and priceless blood. Because he stands out, his jewellery is merged pristinely into the image that forms Mydeimos.

Therefore, it's a surprise that Perdikkas notices the bracelet around Mydeimos' left wrist. It's dainty and his usual gold, with dangling charms on it. It shouldn't be anything special.

But he spots a glint of silver, right beneath the radial pulse. Perdikkas struggles to get a good look at the design, considering that he's sitting across Mydeimos, but he's able to take in the tiny sun charms evenly spaced on the bracelet.

Rather than squinting like a nearsighted fool, he asks, "Is that a new bracelet?"

Shock is not an expression that Perdikkas is able to ascertain when it comes to Mydeimos. But it's close enough, with the way Mydeimos suppresses a cough.

"It is."

Perdikkas hums in what he hopes is intrigue. Thin and silver are the two things you don't see in Mydeimos' jewellery. The bracelet has both of them, which means—

"It's a gift." Mydei finally lets it out. "It would be rude not to wear it occasionally."

That part is less of a surprise. Most of Mydeimos' earrings and necklaces are gifts from his mother—cultural Kremnoan jewellery passed down in his family. Mydeimos even takes care of the gag gifts from his friends, like the hideous chimera plush toy Hephaestion and Peucesta found at a flea market.

The bracelet clearly matches the rest of Mydeimos' jewellery in colour, but stands out through its thinner width and depth, compared to chunky necklaces and dangling earrings.

And of course, that bit of silver, but Perdikkas still can't get a proper view of it.

"…And it's from?"

Mydeimos huffs. "You just want to hear me say it. I'm not blind to all your gossip."

Still all Leonnius, he wants to say, but Mydeimos is relentless when it comes to calling out bullshit. Perdikkas doesn't defend himself; he continues eyeing the swaying gold suns, glinting under the warm lighting of the library.

After their brief silence, Mydeimos throws him a bone, flipping his hand over to expose the inside of his wrist.

It's silver, alright—a silver crescent moon charm, slightly larger than the sun charms dangling beside it. It's not flat like the rest, but thicker and rounded, with a blue gem embedded in the centre of it.

Perdikkas glances back at Mydeimos, who is pointedly looking away from him. Embarrassment really is a bad look on Mydeimos.

"Congratulations, I suppose." Awkward. Perdikkas wishes Ptolemy were around right about now. For someone always in the library, he, for some reason, is nowhere to be found at the moment.

Mydeimos sighs, returning to his laptop with little enthusiasm. "It's not really— Never mind. Thanks. "

Great. Mydeimos is in denial.

Perdikkas buries himself back into his notes. He's not equipped enough for this.

Mydeimos does not post on social media.

He has accounts, of course, because his friends—just Leonnius, really—insist that he create one to tag him in posts. But they're as barren as the desert, with only the occasional comment or repost.

Thus, seeing a post with Mydeimos' username on top of it has Leonnius frozen in place.

There's no mistake. There, on his screen, is a picture of Mydeimos in a pet cafe, with a cat snuggled into his lap.

Ptolemy leans over his shoulder, probably wondering why Leonnius stopped in the middle of the hallway. Swiping through the images, he sees Mydeimos in a variety of angles, all obviously taken by someone else.

"Woah," Ptolemy says, "he's on a date."

"Thanks for pointing out the obvious, Ptolemy, but with whom?"

Ptolemy shrugs and nudges his shoulder forward to get him walking. No sense of curiosity in this man.

As they walk, he examines the images some more. They're from a reasonably popular dog cafe near their university, based on the setup of the cafe. Most of the pictures are of Mydeimos playing with the single cat they have.

Naturally, he types out a comment under the post. "Mydeimos does not like the dogs?"

Ptolemy flicks him on the side of the forehead. "Have some shame. What if Mydeimos' date likes dogs and sees that?"

"There's no account tagged. It'll serve as bait," Leonnius hums, pocketing his phone. If the person Mydeimos is seeing is as popular as Hephaestion said, maybe it's someone Leonnius already follows.

They finally make it to the library after a trek under the blazing sun. Leonnius sighs in relief, the cool air soothing his burning skin. As they move further into a building, he finally spots Hephaestion and Perdikkas at a table, quietly conversing without the usual barrier of laptops between them.

"Now that's a surprise."

Perdikkas flips him off without turning around as Hephaestion laughs under his breath. Ptolemy crosses the table to take a seat beside Hephaestion, his bag of borrowed books placed by the side of his chair.

"You look like you're scheming something. Just take the stage."

"You haven't even looked in my direction," Leonnius scoffs as he collapses into the chair. He hands his unlocked phone to Perdikkas with the post open, and Perdikkas takes it with poorly concealed enthusiasm.

Pointing a subtle finger at Perdikkas, he mouths 'hypocrite' at Hephaestion.

Hephaestion shakes his head, grinning nonetheless. "Why do most of your conversations revolve around Mydeimos?"

"Because the rest of you are boring, Hephaestion."

Ptolemy nods in agreement.

Perdikkas punches him in the arm out of nowhere. It could have been a decent hit if the guy had bothered going to the gym.

"Why did you even comment that? What if his date likes dogs?"

Ptolemy nods again. Traitor.

"Then he can reply to me and expose himself!"

"It's still not a secret," Hephaestion mutters.

Leonnius ignores him. He takes his phone back and skims through the pictures again, trying to find any hint of Mydeimos' mystery man.

Just as he's about to leave the post, he gets a notification with Mydeimos' name on it.

"I like dogs. Just didn't want them all over me," Leonnius reads out loud. He frowns. "Who cares about the dogs? I want to know who he's with!"

Hephaestion sighs. "Is asking him really that tedious of a task?"

Leonnius waves him off. He doesn't need such demotivating advice right now.

Mydeimos agreed to hang out with Leonnius before his evening class. That part isn't unusual—their buildings are close by, and both their afternoon classes end at the same time.

What is definitely unusual is Mydeimos' lateness. His class never runs overtime, and it's a five-minute walk to the bench they meet at.

Leonnius starts to have his suspicions, but he shoots a text to Mydeimos just in case. Perhaps he's truly trapped in a lecture with no way out.

As he hits send, he glances up at the stream of students walking by. People watching at a university is about as interesting as watching ice melt, but it would have to do. Leonnius watches a purple-haired girl walk by, a yawn escaping him as he leans against his hand.

He finally returns to his senses when he hears a commotion involving a familiar voice.

"…consider warning me next time."

"Fine, fine! You're so mean to me, Mydei."

"Huh? All I told you was to text me before bothering me."

Leonnius turns his head to see Mydeimos walking in his direction.

Well, stumbling would be a better word for it, if Mydeimos' entire existence weren't as imposing as he is. That part doesn't matter. More importantly, a man is clinging to him.

Huh. Hephaestion was right, is the first thing he thinks of, because he knows exactly who this man is.

Phainon is the basketball team's point guard, and someone Leonnius has run into in a couple of track competitions. He's popular with everyone; always friendly and good-natured and attractive enough to make you look twice.

The guy's the epitome of an extrovert. Leonnius is starting to think Mydeimos has a type.

Phainon has his arms around Mydeimos' shoulders, his face pushed against Mydeimos' hair with an exaggerated pout. "I'm not bothering you, I just wanted to see you…"

Mydeimos sighs, waving at Leonnius stiffly. "Next time, text. Sorry, Leonnius. I got caught up."

Leonnius stares as Phainon crumples behind Mydeimos, forehead pressed against Mydeimos' back. It's like watching a puppy get neglected by its owner. Huh.

Perdikkas is definitely going to be upset that he missed this.

"Uh, no problem. You do realise you're getting grilled about this for the next three hours."

Mydeimos avoids eye contact. Oh, this is good.

"Call it an apology for making you wait up, then. Bye, Phainon. I'll talk to you later."

Phainon perks up, eyes wide and bright as his arms slip around Mydeimos' waist. It's like he's attached to Mydeimos like a leech. Titans, Leonnius does not want to see this.

"See you later, Mydei! Bye, Leonnius!"

Leonnius waves halfheartedly as Phainon detaches himself from Mydeimos and disappears into the vicinity. He doesn't even want to know why Phainon remembers his name.

There's a minute of silence between them, before Mydeimos concedes. "The library?"

"Yes." This is the best day of Leonnius' life.