Chapter 405: Old Habits Die Hard.

Chapter 405: Chapter 405: Old Habits Die Hard.

Binny likes to think that he’s a pretty patient kind of guy. One had to be, growing up with friends like Vector and Rogard Spidra who had a bad habit of testing the patience of anyone and everyone around them.

This waiting, however, is gonna kill him.

​Oblivious to his inner turmoil, Drogger doesn’t even look up from his desk; pen scraping along whatever document he’s working on like he’s all but forgotten Binny’s there.

Or perhaps he’s well aware of said turmoil and opting to ignore it; Binny’s got the sneaking suspicion that Drogger is pretty well-practiced in the art of wilful ignorance (probably another byproduct of time spent with Rogard).

He’s already told the Captain that this is completely unnecessary, but Drogger is as much of a stickler for protocol as he’s reputed to be.

​How there’s even a protocol for this kind of situation Binny has not idea.

There are rules and regulations and ways that things are done and have always been done forever , yet as far as he’s aware this situation is unique.

But as far as Drogger’s concerned, there’s a way to go about these things, and one need not be a soldier to understand that there are some things where it’s Drogger’s way, or no way at all.

​And this time, Binny is more than willing to take Drogger’s way.

​But what is taking Khobi so long? Everything the guy does is at breakneck speed –gods, all he needs is to catch wind that Loac’s been in his snacks again and he can get his ass to the kitchen before he can so much as take a bite, but he chooses now of all times to take his sweet time?

​Okay , so the guy wrecked his lungs, both legs, and very nearly his face today –the latter from tripping over his feet and almost totalling himself on a fence –but would it kill the guy to hurry up just a little? The urge to fill the silence is getting stronger with each scratch of Drogger’s pen, and while he’s gotten pretty bad with how loose-lipped he’s become around a lot of the soldiers he’s pretty sure that it’s still not appropriate to do so around the Captain.

​" –Captain?"

​Well, old habits die hard.

​The pen skids to an abrupt stop and Drogger glances up expectantly. Binny fidgets uncomfortably; another unfortunate side effect of spending so much time amongst soldiers.

Servants shouldn’t fidget. Not that he looks or feels much like a servant at the moment –he’s still sweaty and dirty and a little sunburned from the day spent out in the sun. His sister would kill him dead if he tried to show up for work like this.

​"Can I ask you a question?"

​Drogger puts down his pen and laces his fingers together. "Go ahead."

​Binny scratches absent-mindedly at a patch of skin behind his ear for something to do with his hands. "Why me?"

​One of Drogger’s eyebrows curves upwards. He picks up his pen again, like he was expecting something a lot more earth-shattering. "Do you really have to ask?" It feels rhetorical, but –

​"...Yes?"

​That makes the Captain chuckle; a sound that’s more snort than outright laughter, but amused nonetheless.

​"Don’t be modest," he scoffs, "A number of my men speak very highly of you and your skills." And in a rare, frank admission of the true nature of their relationship adds, "...I think Rogard has been dropping hints to me for a while, actually."

​"He has?" Well now Binny feels bad for how many times he tripped him over today. But he made himself such an easy target, always focused on knocking Khobi off balance or distracted by his boyfriend’s bare shoulders, the harlot.

"...He might change his mind after today," he remarks ruefully, and Drogger lets out another of those not-quite laughs.

​"I saw that."

​"...Oh." He should have figured that; Drogger has a reputation for keen eyes.

"Sorry?" It’s probably not appropriate to be bullying the guy dating the Captain, but Drogger brushes aside the apology.

​"Why be sorry?" he says, then adds wryly, "I’m sure he deserved it."

​"...Force of habit," Binny admits with a weak smile and a small shrug. His words make Drogger’s expression pinch. He knows. He gets it.

​"...It’s hard," Drogger agrees, after a beat. "And it’ll get harder, you know."

​It’s funny how he was the one who said they needed to wait for Khobi, but he’s already talking like this is a done thing.

He should be grinning like an idiot, but Binny’s smile wanes infinitesimally as he swallows.

​"...I know that."

​Drogger nods shortly, like that’s all he needed to hear. He doesn’t elaborate on exactly how it will get harder, but Binny’s a servant. He knows how the castle works, and can fill in the blanks for himself. "I won’t let you down, Captain."

​"I know."

​Finally, there’s a knock, and it takes every ounce of willpower to not groan in relief as Drogger’s office door swings open and Ynoro ushers a very dirty, very stiff, and somewhat dazed Khobi on inside.

Binny can relate; the gruelling hours spent in the sun had left him light-headed to begin with and he’s currently concerned that he’s trapped in some sort of fever dream even though Drogger has assured him that he’s not.

​Which is exactly what a fever dream construct would have him think.

​" –Sorry for the delay, Captain," Ynoro apologises, gingerly patting Khobi on the shoulder. It’s a light gesture, but it nearly makes Khobi’s legs buckle.

Binny can relate. "...I think someone overdid it at training today."

​It’s funny in that he’s implying that there’s ever a day when Khobi doesn’t overdo it.

​"Of course he did,"

Drogger states stonily, gesturing for Khobi to quit standing in the door like a stunned mullet and join them.

"Apologies for interrupting your dinner, Khobi. This shouldn’t take long."

​"I wasn’t at –never mind." Binny was pretty sure he and Rogard managed to catch him before he smacked his face on the fence but maybe he’s wrong; Khobi sounds about as vacant as he looks.

But when he notices Binny standing there he abruptly comes to; brow furrowing with concern as he blinks away the fog.

​"...Wait, are we in trouble?" he asks warily, immediately on the defensive and no doubt preparing to blame Loac or Rogard for whatever it is that they’re about to be accused of.

His answer seems to amuse Drogger, which only serves to deepen his suspicions.

​"Good instinct," he snorts wryly, "But no.

Not this time." He says it like he’s expected there to be a next time.

​He’s probably right.

​"Then what –".