Chapter 407: Sore Bones.

Chapter 407: Chapter 407: Sore Bones.

By the time Khobi makes it back to his room that evening he’s all but convinced himself he saw wrong.

That visit to Drogger’s office had been the metaphorical slap to the face he’d needed to bring him back to his senses, and the fact that Loac had already eaten and gone by the time he made it to the mess hall had given him the chance to clear his head.

The rumours about him were loudest here after all –especially without his presence there to silence them –and while Khobi knows most of the soldiers are talking out their asses, the snippets he catches do serve as a much needed reminder of Loac’s notoriety for things like getting caught fucking in a barn or getting blown on a roof, and rarely with the same person twice.

​That kind of guy.

​Not the kind of guy who looks at him like...like the way he had.

​Well, the way he thought he had, he makes sure to correct himself. Because that’s all it was; a trick of the light or a trick of the mind.

Or something like that. Had to be. It’s just been a long day out in the sun –Jaga’s still drenched in sweat even though they’ve been out of the sun for a while now, and Mural had nearly broken a tooth when he’d accidentally tried to eat his fork.

The heat does things like that; plays with the mind, makes you see things that aren’t there.

​It’s a reassuring thought, and when he eventually finishes up at dinner and begins the arduous trek back to his room he’s feeling better.

A little more grounded, because what he’d seen --thought he’d seen, thought he’d seen --had sent him reeling so badly he hadn’t even heard Ynoro calling for him at first.

And honestly, he’s not sure how he makes it back to his room in one piece. It had been a seriously bad idea to sit down for dinner –the moment he’d plonked himself down his legs had turned to mulch; deciding then and there that they didn’t want to ever bear his weight ever again.

​First thing’s first. A bath. And as happy –and somewhat relieved –as he is to bathe himself, it’s kind of crazy to think that only a couple of days ago Binny had washed his hair for the last time.

The thought pushes all the other, confusing ones back to the dark recesses of his mind where they belong and brings a grin back to his face with a vengeance because gods , he already gives a bunch of the guards a good run for their money; he’s gonna be such a handful once he’s had some proper training.

​That’s gonna be fun to watch.

​And even more fun to take down.

​It also occurs to him that whilst this means that Binny’s (probably) going to stop busting into his room in the early hours of the morning to bring him breakfast, that’s not to say he won’t do it just because.

And that’s worse , because not only might he walk in on something he can’t unsee, but Khobi won’t even get any breakfast out of it.

​Not to mention....

​(Khobi makes a mental note then and there to behave himself just a little more. If he gets locked up again and Binny and Rogard both get posted outside his door that might just be the push he needs to climb out that window and never come back.)

To Khobi’s surprise, he finds the bedroom empty.

He’s not sure why he’s surprised exactly –it’s not like they spend every waking second together –it’s just that after a day like today, and especially after pushing his buttons as hard and as deliberately as he had, he’d kind of been expecting to find the windows flung open and Loac lolling on the bed. Preferably naked.

​(Waiting for him, maybe.)

​The windows are open, but Loac’s not there.

​Huh .

​Maybe he is off somewhere, as a couple of passing soldiers had not so subtly suggested when Khobi had asked.

The implication being, of course, that wherever he’d gone off to, he wouldn’t be alone.

And obviously that’s fine if he is –why would it not be? Just as long as he doesn’t come back stinking of that perfume that makes Khobi’s nose burn then there’s no problem.

That’s what he’d said; to himself and to Rogard when he’d asked. And while he’s pretty sure he means it – why wouldn’t it be okay –for some reason it hadn’t sat quite right.

​(It’s weird, but he kind of can’t even remember what that perfume smells like anymore; just that it was too strong, and he hated it.)

​Ugh, he’s being stupid.

​The guy’s probably getting a snack.

​"Nnnggghh," Khobi grouses loudly, cramming his hands into his eyes and letting the exhaustion of the day work its out way out of his body through his mouth.

Just that little action makes his arms ache and his lungs wheeze with discomfort. He feels like death warmed up, and probably looks like death superheated in a furnace.

Scratch that, he definitely looks like death superheated in a furnace. Khobi hasn’t exactly seen that, but he’d guess that the way he looks when he catches sight of himself in the mirror is pretty close.

Gods, just one day out in the sun and his skin’s darkened this much?

​Okay, so some of it’s dirt, but still.

​It’s telling how much sweat’s caked into his hair that when he runs a hand back through it, it just stays like that. Khobi grimaces, and wipes his hand on his shirt.

If he’s this filthy then Loac’s gonna be just as bad for sure. He made sure of it.

Wherever he is, if he doesn’t have a bath before he comes to bed he’s gonna kick him out the window.

​Groaning again, Khobi gingerly peels out of his boots and starts to work on his shirt. It’s slow going.

Turns out even his wealth of energy has its limits, and the sun has sapped away all but the dregs.

When he woke up this morning he’d had some preconceptions of how this evening would go, but despite how badly he’s been itching for Loac to fuck him into the mattress or up against a wall, or maybe bent over their table, come to think of it, now he just wants to wash the sweat off his body, soak until he’s on the brink of unconsciousness, and crawl into bed.

​Best laid plans, huh?