Chapter 429: Other Plans.

Chapter 429: Chapter 429: Other Plans.

And isn’t that the truth that he’s been trying so desperately to hide from himself? That despite himself; despite what brought them to where they are, Loac Trent is the one he wants.

That if he could have it all, he’d take that, gladly. Willingly, and with both hands. With all his heart.

​Their noses brush as Khobi finally makes to pull away, lips swollen and chest heaving and an unnatural fatigue suddenly seeping into his limbs.

Loac doesn’t let him go though. Instead, he sags back against his pillows and drags Khobi right down with him and holds him close against his chest; nevermind that he’s sweated right through his shirt.

And Khobi lets him; curling up against his body and pressing his cheek into his chest so that he can feel the rise and fall of each breath, weaving in and out of time to the steady beating of his heart.

It doesn’t really make sense for two men of their size and notoriety to fit together so easily, but here they are. Like this there’s no need for push, no need for pull. They just fit .

It feels right , somehow; the two of them here together.

​Untouchable, the pair of them; at home in the eye of the storm.

​"They won’t hurt you either," Khobi finds himself whispering, and he’s not sure whether or not Loac hears them. It’s fine either way; more than for him, these words are for himself, "I won’t let them."

​...

​For having slept the rest of the night through, Khobi wakes up feeling more exhausted than he’s ever felt in his life.

He’d be inclined to blame it on how hard he’s pushed at training over the past few days, but he’s well acquainted with all of the various aches and pains of being knocked around and this kind of fatigue feels more than simply bone deep.

Like it’s not just his body that’s taken a battering but his entire being.

​Nightmares will do that to you. Too many, too dark, and too often and it could drive a man to madness or despair.

Silas knew that. That sometimes all he needed was to bring a man to the brink; walk him to the edge of the abyss, and his own mind would finish the work for him.

​Khobi had seen it happen time and time again. And even though he knows that’s a world away from here, he shivers.

But no sooner does the shadow of Briyagi cross his mind than Khobi finds himself swallowed up by warmth from all sides as Loac’s arms –having snaked around him in the night like a vice –instinctively curl a little tighter around him; accompanied by a low, annoyed rumble that reverberates against his skin and down his spine.

​It’s funny; Khobi still remembers a time where awake or no, someone coming within two feet of him would send him into fight or flight.

It would have seemed impossible back then, that he might ever sleep so soundly beside someone else, let alone in their arms.

​"So noisy..." A barely-conscious Loac mumbles into the back of his neck, even though Khobi didn’t say anything.

It tickles, and Khobi wriggles to escape the barely-there flutter of his breath on his skin. Loac doesn’t seem to like that; Khobi can practically feel the frown forming between his shoulderblades as his arms constrict around his chest; holding him snug against his body.

​"I didn’t say anything," Khobi snickers, wheezing as Loac’s arms coil too tight, squeezing the air out of his lungs.

Even barely awake the guy’s ridiculously strong. "Hey, hey," he chokes, fidgeting to try and loosen up his grip.

"I gotta get up soon." But the more he struggles the tighter Loac’s arms wind.

​"...Back to sleep," Loac counters sleepily, and Khobi aims a loose swat at his hip to try and get him to ease up.

He misses and catches him on the ass instead, and Loac makes a petulant noise in the back of his throat as he buries his face deeper into his shoulderblades.

It shouldn’t do, but it makes Khobi want to laugh so he does.

​"...What?" he hears him grumble crossly, voice muffled by sleep and the back of Khobi’s shirt. He doesn’t sound pleased to have been woken up.

That, and he probably thinks that Khobi’s laughing at him. Which he kind of is, but doesn’t really know why.

It’s just kind of funny how grouchy he gets first thing in the morning. If they’ve got training he’ll practically hurl himself out of bed to get a headstart, but wake him up on a day off like today and he sulks like a kid.

​"...I have to get up," Khobi repeats when Loac gives no indication that he’s going to let him go anytime soon.

This earns him another noise of protest, but he can’t be nearly as close to dozing back off as he’s pretending to be because before too long Loac’s hands are sneaking down his chest, slyly prying open buttons as they go like maybe if he’s careful Khobi won’t notice.

This morning his touch makes him shiver; each slow, reverent brush somehow more thrilling than the one that came before it.

Memories from the heights he and Loac had pushed each other to the other night –that night, what a night –abruptly resurface with a vengeance, and white hot anticipation flares to life under his skin.

​It makes sense now, why it had felt like what Khobi could only imagine it was like making love.

Loac must hear the heavy way his breath hitches as his fingers dust against one of his nipples, because his attention lingers there; an absent-minded thumbing at first, and then a little harder, a little rougher, until Khobi’s pulse is spiking and his body’s not just interested, it’s needy .

​A soft moan leaves Khobi’s lips as Loac’s hands continue to explore his skin; digging into all the places Loac’s learned get him hot and bothered, and he lets him get almost all of his buttons undone before his conscience kicks in.

While this would normally be exactly how he’d like to start his day, he’s already got plans for this morning, unfortunately.