Chapter 387: Poke And Tease.

Chapter 387: Chapter 387: Poke And Tease.

Well.

​Almost all of it.

​The whole being ganged up on part he could probably do without.

​Looks like he’s also missed the part where Loac and the rest of his friends all joined the same team –namely one that exists for the sole, express purpose of trying to ruin his life.

​The first time it happens no one knows quite what to do.

It’s at dinner, which is never a safe space to begin with –more often than not the place for soldiers to air their various disagreements and grievances with one another from the day, and to make plans of how best to hash it out at training the next.

And today it’s significantly louder than it has been in weeks of late.

There are more soldiers pouring back into the city from the far flung corners of the kingdom on the daily, and while the men of the castle might usually have a sweet, blessed few weeks of spring to themselves before getting pinned to the grindstone once again, this year they’re shit out of luck.

​"Hey Rogard? Don’t get me wrong; it’s real nice that you got to spend the season witth your new boyfriend and all," Gandy groans from where his face is planted into the wood of the table because his body is having too much trouble holding it up any longer.

There are a lot of soldiers at a lot of other tables looking in much the same state.

And worse. Those with the easiest postings; the ones who have spent a peaceful winter eating and drinking the nights away, in particular.

"But next year, could you like, take him on a nice winter vacation?"

​"Yeah, somewhere where the thaw comes late," Montrel chips in, likewise prostrated on the other side of the table.

His voice sounds weird on account of how swollen his lip is from where Jaga cracked him with the edge of a shield.

"So it takes him most of spring to get back."

​"Not sure if you’ve noticed, but master doesn’t really do breaks ," Rogard scoffs, wrinkling his nose, "You really think he’s gonna take a vacation ? Besides, I’m sure you’d all miss me far too much~"

​"I’m willing to risk it," Gandy grumbles, and it just goes to show how exhausted he is that when Rogard makes an offended noise he doesn’t even raise a hand to jab him for it, "At this rate I don’t think I’ll survive until summer."

​"You say that every year," Jaga points out. He’s had significantly fewer complaints than the rest of them but there’s no denying that the sentiment resonates with him, too.

​"And I mean it every year."

​"We’ve been good this winter too," Montrel sighs morosely, "Dunno why we’re getting punished for the guys who haven’t . We got Drogger tryin’ to kill us, and then this guy –"

he jerks a thumb in Loac’s direction, " –Has been riding our asses so fucking hard.

Although..." He nods contemplatively in Khobi’s direction, "...Probably not as hard as he’s been riding yours."

​It says something about how used he is to making fun of Khobi for whatever comes to mind that for a second he doesn’t even realise what he’s said.

And who he’s said it in front of. Which is mortifying to start with, because while Khobi hasn’t escaped this shift in dynamic unscathed –they wouldn’t be his friends if they didn’t give him grief about, well, literally everything –the soldiers for the most part have kept their ribbing about his recent, immensely active sex life to innuendo, and by default to the confines of his room.

And by unspoken mutual agreement, not in front of Loac.

Because to Khobi’s knowledge, as much as the soldiers are definitely aware of what’s going on behind closed doors, Loac doesn’t make much of a habit of outwardly acknowledging it.

Not that Khobi does, either, really. It’s just something that’s happening, and everyone knows is happening but doesn’t talk about.

​Everyone else realises Montrel’s misstep though, and as one they all freeze, turning to look at Loac to see just how he’ll react;

whether Montrel has finally crossed the line and is about to have his nose broken. (He’d been doing so well, too.)

​It’s a thousand times worse. For Khobi , that is.

​Because instead of biting Montrel’s head off, Loac fucking joins in .

​"...He can handle it," Loac smirks, all teeth; a mischievous light dancing behind his eyes as he leans up into Khobi’s space to add, voice dipped to a purr low enough to be dangerous, "Ain’t that right , Khobi ?"

​What the fuck .

​Khobi seriously hopes his face is not as red as it feels, and that if it is anyone who sees will assume it’s from embarrassment.

It’s bad enough that Loac knows he may , possibly have a tiny bit of a thing for his voice –he really, really doesn’t need his friends knowing, too.

​" –Y’know, I really thought we agreed no foreplay at the dinner table," Rogard remarks reproachfully, as the soldiers still physically capable of it cackle and wolf whistle to Khobi’s suffering.

​("Are you an idiot?" Gandy snorrts under his breath, "Did you not see them in the ring? They’ve been flirtin’ all fuckin’ day.")

​" –But that’s no fun," Loac drawls back easily, and even though Khobi’s one of the few men out here with enough strength left to keep himself upright, he finds himself with his face pressed down into the table like the rest of them.

And when he lets out an anguished groan, because this is not happening –it is not –the fuckers all laugh .

Seeing him collapsed on the table, Montrel feebly pushes his half-finished dinner across the table towards him, which Khobi would have taken for a peace offering but for what he says next.

​"Better keep your strength up, kid," he states dryly, and it can only be a bad thing that he and Loac exchange equally shit-eating grins, "...Sounds like you’re gonna need it."

With a smirk that entirely gives away just how right Montrel is, Loac obligingly hooks a finger into the proferred bowl and drags it the rest of the way to knock it into Khobi’s empty one.

​Montrel and Loac finally getting along, and it’s at his expense.

​Fucking perfect .

​Khobi makes a mental note to kick both their asses tomorrow.