Chapter 98 - 97: Royal Scruffle.

Chapter 98: Chapter 97: Royal Scruffle.

It’s meant to be inviting—and maybe, if this were anyone else, it would be—but like he’s said, he’s not interested.

Loac seems under the impression that if he sees something he wants, he can just take it, and Khobi refuses to be one of those things.

So when Loac leans in, gaze hooded, and the breath against Khobi’s lips hot, and heady, and so thick with anticipation it’s almost shaking, he lets him.

Throat running dry, and palm turning sweaty where it sits against Loac’s chest, he lets him, until he’s so close there’s nothing in his field of vision but blue, and his body, unbidden, is arching up into the heat of Loac’s.

Then he headbutts him.

Square in the face.

Hard.

The sound of his forehead smashing into Loac’s face is tremendously satisfying.

Loac, stunned, staggers backwards a few paces. He’s dazed for a few beats, and only seems to realise what’s actually happened when he raises a hand to his nose and it comes away red.

His eyes snap to Khobi, startlingly clear, and Khobi makes sure he sees him wipe his hand—the one that had been pressed against his chest—on his pants, like it’s dirty.

"Yeah," he replies narrowly. Simply. "That’s how it is."

If he’s expecting Loac to be angry—which he kind of is—he’s sorely disappointed.

In fact, he licks his lips, and for an instant, Khobi swears he can see the corners of his mouth twitch.

"You’re gonna pay for that," he says huskily, eyes hooded and dangerously dark and at the same time, terrifyingly bright, and that odd shiver runs down Khobi’s spine again.

The blood dripping down his nose doesn’t seem to bother him at all. Which is a bit disappointing considering just how hard Khobi had headbutted him.

"Oh yeah?" he taunts back, rolling his neck so that it cracks loudly. "Who’s gonna make me?".

Loac’s answer comes in the form of a fist.

He aims for Khobi’s gut too, and unfortunately for Khobi, his one hits its mark dead on and sends the wind whooshing right out of his lungs.

The force of the blow slams him straight back into the wall with a horrific crash, and rattles a painting right off its hook to clatter uselessly to the floor.

Doubled over next to the painting, Khobi glances up through eyes watering in pain at the space it had just occupied, and is surprised to find that something had been concealed beneath it.

A dent. An ugly, splintered hole, identical to the one Khobi’s just left.

Only older.

And deeper.

Distantly, it strikes Khobi that for someone who doesn’t exactly seem the cultured type, there are an awful lot of paintings in this room.

It’s a thought he doesn’t linger on, because Loac seems to be waiting, almost expectantly, to see how Khobi is going to retaliate.

Well, it wouldn’t do to keep him waiting.

That was a good shot, too.

Fuck, trying to follow his movements was like trying to predict a lightning strike.

Khobi lunges at him, pushing off the wall and throwing his momentum into his swing. Loac just ducks aside, like it’s easy, and jabs an elbow into Khobi’s ribs right where it’s going to hurt.

He probably expects him to flinch, or back away, because he’s definitely not expecting Khobi’s foot to lash out and sweep him clean off his feet.

He looks surprised as he falls, but breaks into a roll before Khobi can follow up, and is back on the offensive in the blink of an eye.

The poor door is the next victim as Khobi narrowly dodges his next strike, and Loac’s fist smacks into it with a hearty thud.

The wood groans in complaint, and the bolts shudder like it’s just met the wrong end of a battering ram.

Khobi takes his chance while Loac’s extracting his fist from the door, but blue eyes snap towards him at the last moment, and the bastard just smirks at him and leans out of the way.

It’s infuriating, and frankly incredible, how easily he moves; how casually, like Khobi’s swings are slow and weak.

Which they’re not.

He’s been in enough fist fights to have confidence in his own abilities.

But it’s clear that Loac has, too.

It’s a good feeling when, only a couple of moments later, he manages to land a decent punch.

Right on the chin, too. Khobi’s pretty sure he hears Loac’s teeth rattle around in his jaw from the force of it.

He’s aching himself in a couple of places, but Loac’s ears have got to be ringing right now.

His nose doesn’t quite look broken, which is a damn shame, but from the way he’s grimaced a couple of times, it’s causing him a bit of pain.

It’d be nice to get a better look at the damage he’s done, but he can’t afford to take his eyes off Loac for a moment.

If he stops paying attention for an instant, he’ll probably get his face caved in.

It’s actually, kind of thrilling.

Loac’s fist sails harmlessly past him, missing his jaw by a hair’s breadth, and Khobi glimpses a flash of bright, shining blue an instant before Loac launches at him, throwing his whole weight behind him in a low, vicious tackle.

They crash straight into the helpless door, Khobi choking in surprise as Loac’s strength slams the air right out of him.

The wood beneath him screams under the force, straining almightily against them, and with an agonised whine, the hinges completely give way.

They burst out into the hallway, the broken door hitting the stone with an ungodly, earth-shattering peal and the pair of them toppling with it, grappling for dominance.

Loac’s incredibly, enormously strong, and pins him down hard against the stone, biceps straining, as Khobi tries to roll free of his grip.

He strains upwards, and Loac smirks down at him, catching Khobi’s forehead with his own, and forcing his head back to the stone.

"You gonna yield?" he taunts, weight shifting against Khobi’s hips to remind him that he’s the one in control right now, and the air leaves Khobi’s lungs again in a breathless gasp like he’s taken a hit, as the tension in the air between them spikes.

"In your dreams," Khobi shoots back hotly, pulse racing, and bodily flings him away, before his vision clouds over completely with electric blue eyes and glistening, dusky skin.

Loac goes tumbling across the stone, falling hard, and it gives Khobi enough time to lurch back to his feet.

Then, out of the silence, a cough.

The pair of them, only an instant away from launching back at one another, freeze, and turn to stare at the servant who’s come upon them, and is observing, hands tucked behind his back,waiting patiently for them to notice him.

Binny’s smile is the widest Khobi’s ever seen, and he’s sure that’s not a good thing.

"...Am I interrupting something?" he asks, all wide eyes and innocent airs as his gaze swings from Khobi’s rumpled appearance, to Loac’s half-naked state, and then back again. Khobi’s own shirt is ripped to tatters now, hanging off his chest in sad ribbons and exposing half a dozen reddening marks all over his body, and his hair is a right shambles.

Loac doesn’t look much better. There’s blood drying on his chest, and his nose is still dripping red.

Not to mention, the broken door.

"No," Khobi deadpans vehemently, flinging Loac a withering look. One that says that this is not over.

Loac says nothing, but it’s clear from the dark glimmer in his eyes that he agrees.

"I was just leaving."

Neither of them try to stop him, for which he’s grateful.

He’s not even that angry anymore, but he needs to cool off.

...It’s been a while since he’s had anyone pin him down like that, and it’s disconcerting, to say the least.