Chapter 232 - 230: Noticing Things.

Chapter 232: Chapter 230: Noticing Things.

"Huh?" Khobi blinks, giving Rogard a surprised look when he doesn’t make to follow them off to dinner. That’ll make it almost every night this week, "You’re staying late again?"

​"Of course," Rogard tells him easily, wiping a line of sweat off his brow and throwing him a superior look that he knows really grinds his gears, "How else am I going to catch up after all this time off?" He doesn’t mention all the years he had off, and how even after those he’d still been able to go toe to toe with Khobi.

It’s unlikely that a couple of weeks are going to make any difference at all.

​But that’s hardly the point.

​Khobi thinks long and hard about this. Too long, apparently.

​"Hey Khobi, hurry up," Loac drawls antagonistically, stalking up beside him and slinging an arm over his shoulder.

Caught off guard, Khobi staggers slightly under his weight. "You owe me a turkey leg, remember. A whole one this time."

​"Like I said ," Khobi complains –since this isn’t the first time this has come up –and jostles him back.

It’s not quite hard enough to completely dislodge him. "It came like that last time!"

​" Bullshit ."

​It’s been a real point of contention for the last few nights, whether or not Khobi had taken a bite of his turkey leg out of spite before being forced to surrender it –as per their strange, unwritten rules.

He swears he didn’t, and that it was just a weird looking cut of meat but Rogard has the sneaking suspicion that he did.

Because while Khobi isn’t really much of a liar , he has a surprisingly petty streak when it comes to Loac.

​Well, isn’t Rogard the same?

​"You go on ahead," Rogard urges, partly for selfish reasons and partly because Loac clearly wants what he’s owed.

He’s started joining them for dinner –particularly on the evenings he gets the best of the Khobi –and while the soldiers clearly don’t enjoy his company, he is their prince and the general consensus seems to be that if Rogard and Khobi (the ones most likely to have a problem with it) aren’t bothered by him, then they probably shouldn’t be either.

​Well. Khobi for one seems entirely bothered, but Rogard insists.

And while Khobi’s never let him get away with anything, he lets him get away with this, so he can’t truly mind that much.

​"I’ll eat later," Rogard assures him.

​"Fine, but make sure you do," Khobi says, before his expression turns to one of annoyance and he aims at elbow at Loac’s ribs, "And get off , would you?" It goes wide as Loac smoothly ducks aside, smirking, and Khobi glowers at him as he tucks his hands into his pockets and starts to saunter off towards the mess hall, and his prize.

​"...You comin’ or what?" he hollers back disinterestedly over his shoulder.

Khobi gives Rogard an aggrieved can you believe this guy kind of look.

​"...If you want him to stop stealing your dinner you should probably stop losing," Rogard advises sagely, and from the way a vein twitches in Khobi’s forehead as he storms off after him, that was clearly not the validation he was looking for.

​He watches them go until Drogger-master calls out to him asking whether he’s planning on joining them or just spectating.

And Rogard tells him that he’s going to join in, of course, even though they both know that he’s most certainly planning on doing both.

​Because here, in this setting –training alongside him –he gets to look to his heart’s content.

He keeps it all smoothly professional, too; working as hard and as tirelessly as he used to before he was here with ulterior motives, making sure to check his technique with Fricha-master and Ynoro-master just as much as Drogger, and trying not to let his gaze and his touch linger too long.

It’s hard though, staying so vigilant –especially now –but it’s all worth it for a moment alone in the barracks where Rogard can steal a kiss or two, or three, and promises to visit him in the city again.

And Drogger must be just as affected as he is by him because whenever they find themselves alone he takes him in his arms and tells him that whenever that is, it’s not soon enough.

​Ynoro-master makes it clear that he thinks Drogger is totally hopeless when it comes to this sort of thing, but it’s quite the opposite.

For someone who’s never been known to fool around, he’s very good at it.

​If Rogard could be down in the city every night, he would be.

​And not just for the sex. Although admittedly that is a major draw.

​Three times now he’s been down into the city to see him, but it’s enough for him to be able to tell that it’s different down there.

Simpler. Drogger’s home is very small, and humble and no-nonsense, much like it’s owner.

The only thing that really gives away his status as a Captain is the bookcase in the corner, stacked with more books than any commoner could ever hope to own; each in neat condition with their spines creased just enough to imply that each one has been explored.

Each time, Drogger has made him a different dinner, and in return Rogard has helped with the dishes like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

​It’s funny. He’s been on a lot of dates in his life; many of them pleasant and most of them extravagant, but none have felt quite so precious as the nights spent in Drogger’s kitchen.

​That can’t be good .

​"That was nice work today, Rogard," Drogger tells him, as he jogs over and falls in line with Ynoro.

​"Were you watching me, master?" Rogard inquires, in the playful tone he always gets hit for.

Drogger cuffs around the back of his head for his cheek, but it doesn’t smart.

​"You and your friends were making quite the scene," is what he says, and even though it’s factually correct, Rogard hears what he really means.

​Of course I was, idiot .

​"Now, now, Drogger, that’s hardly fair," Ynoro chides airily, in the way that only he can get away with, "Khobi’s really toned it down recently, hasn’t he?"

​" Hah ?" Drogger barks, "What are you talking about?"