Chapter 360: Barge in.

Chapter 360: Chapter 360: Barge in.

Khobi would like to say that that was the end of it, but he has spent years denying himself, and being denied the opportunity to indulge in the cravings of the flesh, and it’s like after that first night everything he’s been bottling and holding back has suddenly been released.

He hadn’t realised just how starved he was for contact; how much he’d been craving another person’s touch.

​And now the floodgates have opened, and he can’t get enough .

He can’t get enough of Loac’s lips and his tongue, his body under him, on him, tangled up in him, and his hands on him.

It feels different from how he touches himself --more intense --and after so long it feels so good being able to enjoy losing himself to the overwhelming stimulation of having a cock inside him again, and he wants it every moment he can have it.

​And Loac is more than happy to indulge him.

​They fuck the next night, too. Twice.

Three the night after, and then the morning after that. And judging from the way that Loac crawls back on top of him, mouthing up his throat even as the aftershocks of Khobi’s most recent orgasm ebb away, he’s eager for more. Khobi is more than up for it too, but an obnoxious pounding on the door has him instead bodily flinging Loac off him and sending him tumbling off the edge of the bed. He hits the floor with an ominous thud , and Khobi has to make a mad grab for the blankets to make sure he doesn’t take them with him.

​" What ?" Khobi hollers, voice coming out raw and hoarse and totally not suspicious at all. There’s a familiar click as the key turns in the lock and he hastily covers up as much of his naked body as he can.

And not a moment too soon, because an instant later the door cracks open and Binny sidles on in, just as Loac’s head appears over the edge of the bed, looking annoyed.

​"What the fuck, Khobi?" he complains, rubbing his head irritably and then ducking when Khobi hurls a pillow at his head so that he doesn’t fucking stand up because if he does, everyone –that is, Binny, and the two guards posted in the doorway behind him –are definitely gonna see that he’s naked.

​And if they catch him naked in bed with him, there’s really no explaining that away.

​" Really , Khobi?" Binny deadpans, seeing Khobi with the blankets pulled up to his chin, trying his darnedest to look like there’s absolutely nothing going on. "...You’re seriously gonna try fool the guys who camp outside your room at night and the guy who changes your sheets?" Behind him, Montrel and Mural are both wearing grimaces; like they know exactly what he’s talking about. Khobi shrinks down into his blanket, face colouring.

​"Oh."

​It’s really all he can say.

​It’s not what it looks like , really isn’t gonna cut it this time.

​Particularly because this time it really, really is what it looks like.

​"...You heard, huh?" Khobi mumbles, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck for something to do with his hands.

​"Yeah Khobi," Montrel states dryly, and politely averts his gaze as Loac clambers to his feet buck naked, looking about as dishevelled as one would expect from having being caught in the act.

" We heard ." Even if he hadn’t heard way more than he cared to hear over the last couple of nights, he’s caught Loac with enough people in his time spent hunting him around the city to know exactly what’s been going on.

​"...I’m surprised the whole castle hasn’t heard," Binny snickers with a wicked grin, and Khobi groans long and loud and despondent as he drags his hands down his face. "...Case in point."

​"You are pretty loud," Loac points out unnecessarily, and even though he makes an annoyed noise when Khobi smacks him with his own pillow, there’s a shit eating smirk plastered across his face that gives away that it’s not a complaint.

​And whose fault is that?

What an asshole.

​"You’re not helping," Khobi hisses, too busy hurling another pillow at him to see the looks being passed between the three witnesses in the doorway.

​("You know, it’s about time," Mural remarks conversationally to Montrel, who doesn’t seem to quite know where to look. Khobi’s blanket has started slipping and he hasn’t realised it yet, "The sexual tension was giving me hives.")

​"...Did you want breakfast?" Binny inquires, clearing his throat to get his attention and holding up the tray to explain why he’s disturbed their morning, "Or I can come back in a bit if..."

​" – Now is fine ," Khobi grinds out, although from the way Loac sulks down into his side of the bed it’s abundantly clear to all parties present that he had had a different answer in mind.

Binny obligingly sees himself in and starts laying out the table with a delicious, steaming breakfast.

​The smell of fresh honeycakes makes Khobi’s stomach rumble.

​Ah shit, it looks really good. There’s just one slight problem though...

​"Hmm, what was that?" Binny asks, when Khobi mumbles something barely audible.

​"I said, can you throw me some pants ," he repeats a little louder, making a concerted effort not to look at the soldiers who are still loitering in the open doorway clearly waiting to be offered some of the enormous pile of honeycakes sitting stacked neatly on the table.

There’s a pregnant pause in which Binny lets out a slow, heavy breath, but instead of laughing, as he so, so very clearly wants to, he just picks up the nearest pair of pants hanging off the wooden chest where Loac tossed them the night before after he’d torn them off him, and throws them to him.

​Khobi appreciates the restraint, and while it’s awfully nice that Montrel and Mural politely avert their gazes so that he can make himself decent, he still opts to keep his lower half safely concealed under the blankets while he yanks them on.

​"Oh c’mon Khobi," Binny snorts, rolling his eyes at the needless bashfulness, "No need to be so shy; I’ve seen you naked more than him."

Khobi’s going to pretend he doesn’t see him wink in Loac’s direction, and he’s not sure how to go about arguing that this is different , because Binny’s going to ask how and he doesn’t have an answer for that other than that he’s fucked one of them and not the other and that doesn’t feel like something he wants to say aloud.

​And then there’s the matter of the marks on his body.

​"Don’t laugh," he tries, and Binny gives him a look of pity as he reminds him with a shrug, "You know I can’t promise that."

​Yeah. Khobi knows.

​He’s not sure where his shirt’s gone, so there’s nothing for it. With a sigh he gingerly peels the blankets back and edges to the side of the bed, all the while trying to ignore the interesting way Binny’s face twists as he chews on his lips.

An ugly sound still escapes anyways; something between a bark and a snort. And when a couple of equally ugly and poorly disgusted snuffles come from just outside the door as he clambers to his feet, he’s not the only one who’s seen.

And despite the dark marks speaking for themselves, Khobi’s pretty confident that he manages to make it all the way to the table without looking too... obvious , but when he catches the knowing expression Binny’s wearing, he realises that he is quite mistaken.

​" What ?" he growls flatly, and helps himself to one of the honeycakes and dipping it right in the bowl of cream that’s been laid out with them.

​"Nothing, nothing ~" Binny chimes innocently, following his lead and taking a seat next to him.

The honeycake makes it into his mouth just in time to muffle a peal of laughter and it would probably serve him right if he chokes.

It doesn’t take long for the promise of food to lure Loac out of bed too, and he eventually saunters over without a shirt on, pants hanging so low on his hips that how is Khobi not supposed to get ideas? And given the way languid way Loac stretches out when he catches him looking, it’s entirely intentional.

​Then he leans over and dumps a shirt on Khobi’s head. One of his, Khobi can’t help but notice.

​A shirt’s a shirt, he supposes, but when he finishes pulling it on over his head, the honeycake that he’d left sitting on the plate in front of him is gone and Loac is licking cream off his lips and looking smug.

​"Get your own , asshole," Khobi gripes, grabbing a handful and tossing them across the room for Montrel and Mural as they show themselves in for breakfast like the soldiers have started doing, and lock the door behind them.

There’s fucking heaps of the things; why’s he gotta steal the one sitting on his plate?

​The table is a little cramped with five of them stuffed around it.

​"We need to get you some more furniture," Montrel states, from where he and Mural are both crammed onto the wooden chest that holds the entirety of Khobi’s possessions.

Binny chews on an apple slice and offers a small shrug, "I’ll see what I can do."