[G] [P] 734.10.20 | Midnight Socialising

Khoemi was drunk. The good kind of drunk, where everything was wonderful and fun and amazing, and a smile was glued to his lips as he stumbled from the pub he had been celebrating in with a few of his closest friends: Serraquil had confirmed her pregnancy and Khoemi was thrilled. He was even okay with Serraquil’s quiet and hesitating question, wondering if it would be improper that she hoped the child might be a girl. With two young toddler sons, Khoemi was quite fine with the woman dreaming after a daughter, if that was what she wanted.

To be fair, Khoemi would likely have done whatever Lady Serraquil wanted, if it kept her happy and wrapped up in the belief that Khoemi adored and loved her. That wasn’t to say he didn’t, really, for he had come to care for the woman quite a bit in the time since they had been married. But with the bastard Gabrin breathing down his neck once more, Khoemi had become increasingly aware of why he had thrown himself at the first single woman that came into sight, and was even more determined to convince both himself, and everyone else, that he’d been in love with her for years.

In reality, he was quite aware that it had been Serraquil who had been pining after, if not him, than someone to woo her and give her the family she had been raised to expect. He supposed, since doing that for her, she would probably turn a blind eye to most indiscretion on his part. Not that Khoemi had any desire to do any such thing, of course! All the same, he knew Serraquil had nothing up her sleeve to complain about, in regards to himself. He was a perfect gentleman in public, a doting father when the mood struck him or an audience was visible (not that he didn’t adore the boys, but toddlers had a tendency to be loud, and ask so many questions!) and he had never raised his hand to her. What more could a woman want in her husband?

And now, if she were lucky, he would also have given her a daughter to dote upon while the boys grew up into strapping young men. Life was quite perfect, really.

Which was exactly why the drunken Khoemi was marching up to the front door of the large house Gabrin and his wife were occupying while they visited her family. Khoemi wasn’t sure if the house was something Gabrin had purchased, or if it were part of his wife’s dowry, but it was a fairly impressive looking place, especially for a couple who so rarely lived in it. Not as nice as the house he lived in with Serraquil, of course, when they were not guesting directly with the Lord. But then, Khoemi was pretty sure everything he had was better than what Gabrin had. That was why he had even brought the bastard a present.

Smiling crookedly, Khoemi let himself into the house and kicked the cat aside lazily, ignoring the indignant look he was given as he stumbled down the hall, knocked over something that smashed and was probably expensive – while muttering a drunken and somewhat loud ‘whoops’ that was laced with laughter – and continued on. While he did not care in the slightest if he woke Gabrin (for it was quite late, or was it early?) Khoemi did not really want to wake the wife or child – assuming they were not still cooing over Serraquil. Suddenly deciding that was where they would be, Khoemi’s expression broke into a wicked grin.

“Gabrin, you lazy bastard, wake up!”

Loud, drunk and unapologetic, Khoemi’s voice bellowed down the hall, and was followed by the crash of something else being knocked over.

Gabrin hadn’t been in bed – his own bed – for long when the noise seemed to rock the house and had him jolting awake. He sat silently in bed, listening for who the intruder was and wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or be annoyed once Khoemi’s voice echoed down the hall. There was relief that it wasn’t a burglar and he was glad to know it wasn’t his very pregnant wife returning but to have it be Khoemi? The man knew when and how to make an entrance, he supposed, and there wasn’t much else to do than to go with it and to put a stop to it as well before the entire city woke up.

Gabrin tossed on his robe as he got out of bed, though it hung open and showed he hadn’t been in the mood for sleeping attire that night. “Khoemi, you beautiful and drunk idiot, get in here,” he hissed as he found the man in the hall and grabbed his arm to drag him along. He didn’t allow for protests as the unannounced visitor was pulled inside a room before the door was shut behind them.

He had meant to lead them into a sitting room but his feet worked on their own that night and they found their way back to the bedroom he had just come out of. “You’re going to wake up the entire household and I can assure you that two of them are in desperate need of their sleep.” A wicked grin accompanied the words that gave hint to what he had been up to while his wife and child were out for the night.

“Though I am interested to know what brings you here at this hour.” Gabrin stepped in closer to crowd Khoemi back against a wall. “Recalled how much you enjoyed our time together, did you?”

Khoemi protested, loudly, at being dragged around and manhandled. He was not one of Gabrin’s useless whores! He was not anything even resembling a friend, regardless of what their airheaded wives thought! He would like to have pushed the smug bastard into a hole and kick the dirt over the top of him! He would like to, to, -- Khoemi scowled as he was ushered back against the wall, hand lifting to plant itself firmly in the centre of Gabrin’s chest and he gave a firm shove to put some distance between them, elbow locking and drunken eyes narrowing.

“Get off!” words slurred, and breath thick with the scent of alcohol, Khoemi glared at his unwanted brother-in-law. “What time together?” The sneer on his lips was twisted, and Khoemi gave a disgusted sniff as he looked down his nose at Gabrin. He had never acknowledged that tryst before, and Khoemi – drunk as he may be – was certainly not about to start then! “Still dreaming of what you’ll never get?” Khoemi’s voice had a lingering air of snide amusement in it, his nose scrunched up just slightly and his overall expression hardly pleasant.

“Filthy whore.” How many men in Gabrin’s household indulged in the same disgusting habit? How many of them had their wage supplemented by bending over for the disgusting creature Khoemi was forced to call a relative? Did the sick bastard’s wife know? Was she living in denial, or ignorance?

How cute. Khoemi was living in denial over what they had one fun night nearly four turns ago. How did the man manage to forget everything he had done? Perhaps that was why he got drunk. Any time a memory he didn’t like popped again, it was time to lose himself in the bottom of a mug or two. There was no doubt that Khoemi had managed to convince himself they never slept together either. The man wasn’t great at lying and it was obvious in the venom in his voice that the idea genuinely disgusted him. That was why Gabrin kept picking on him.

“It’s fun to get a little dirty sometimes, Emmy. Don’t knock it until you …remember it.” Smirking, Gabrin finally gave Khoemi his desired space and backed off. He moved to the large and comfortable chair he had near the currently unlit hearth and flopped down. His robe was still hanging open but one leg was loosely crossed over the other in a mockery of modesty.

“So, if you’re not here to keep me warm as I sleep, I ask again; what exactly are you doing in my home at such an hour?” There had to be a fun reason for it and Gabrin was looking forward to hearing it. Buttercup apparently was as well as the spoiled cat cried at the door. Gabrin glanced at it but he didn’t let his sweet cat in. This was business between men and she didn’t need to see any of it. After a moment the crying stopped and Buttercup wandered off to cause mischief elsewhere.

Khoemi ignored the baiting regally, giving Gabrin a dark, drunken look or irritation before brushing it away without further thought, his mind once more upon the reason he had bothered to trope up to the man’s house, and wake him so rudely. He flung out a hand, and threw – rather badly – a wine skin towards Gabrin. He gave a smug smirk when the item managed to land on the other lordling’s lap, before slumping against the wall.

“Serra’z pregnant,” He slurred, the smug smirk still curling his lips upwards. Serraquil could hope the child was a girl all she liked, but for the sake of this particular encounter: “Bet itz another boy.” Khoemi sneered, both delighted and arrogant. There was one area he was doing outstandingly and obviously better than his unwanted brother in law, and Khoemi was not afraid to rub it in whenever he could.

The unexpected toss that was also poorly aimed somehow still managed to land in his lap with a hand reaching out to make sure it stayed there and wasn’t about to spill all over him. Instead of cursing the man out or even glaring at him for such a move, Gabrin raised a brow, waiting for the explanation to go with the gesture. He laughed when the slurred reason came and uncorked the wine skin. “No one wonder you want to drown your sorrows as much as you have.” Serraquil wasn’t exactly hideous but she did seem to have a screw or two loose and Gabrin had no interest in bedding that woman.

Then again, his wife didn’t rank high on his list of favourite bed partners either. Tanriel was a means to an end. She helped please his family by marrying like a proper lordling and she ensured he was able to further pester Khoemi whenever he wanted and his idiot wife unwittingly encouraged it regularly with dinner parties. When Khoemi mentioned the gender of the unborn child, Gabrin did feel a twitch in an eyebrow. It wasn’t exactly a low blow but it wasn’t easy to let that slide by either. His wife had so graciously gifted him with a daughter thus far and Gabrin hoped the next would be a son and therefore his heir. It would please them both and give him more of an excuse to not visit her bed as regularly. It would make life so much easier and more pleasurable again!

A swig of wine was given before Gabrin held it up in a mock salute. “Here’s to knocking her up again and hopefully detaining her more regularly so Tanriel will tend to her.” Now that was something he could cheer to. Another swig was taken and Gabrin was on his feet to crowd Khoemi against the wall that seemed to be supporting him far too much. A hand was placed against the wall near Khoemi’s head and Gabrin cocked his own to the side, “so, how shall we celebrate your potential spare heir, Emmy?”