"Something on your mind?" Dorian asked. "You're as pent up as the woman this morning."
"Should we talk about yesterday?" Corbin blurted.
Dorian stared at him a moment, the memory of the kiss after training ringing in him. Between thinking about that and thinking about Reverie grinding against his fingers—wanting to watch her as she came with pleasure from his mouth or feeling her wetness around his cock next time. He’d had to resort to more of the herb than his usual and another few drinks of nyghtfire with all the confusion he felt.
But he played it off.
"Do you think we should?" he asked.
Corbin's brow simply raised, and Dorian ran a hand through his hair.
"I don't know, Bin," he admitted. "Caught up in the moment, maybe. Why? Are you telling me you didn't enjoy it?" he asked, attempting to settle the Belwark's mood and hide the turmoil swelling inside him.
Corbin didn't reply and instead tugged at the ties on the saddle. Dorian noted the tenseness still in Corbin’s shoulders, to the point that he stopped what he was doing and went to hold Corbin's horse steady as it reacted to his jolts.
"I can't go on the road with both of you angry at me. Especially not you," Dorian admitted. "Talk to me."
But Corbin only sighed, an elongated pause between them that made Dorian shift. "It's nothing," Corbin finally said. He turned to Dorian and patted his cheek, and despite the playfulness of it, Dorian wasn't sure he believed him.
Corbin's attention turned to Reverie then, and he gave an upwards nod in her direction as he pulled out an apple to eat. "What exactly did you do to her last night?" he asked, a small smile growing on his face. "Did she finally join you in your bed, and then you told her 'good job'?"
Dorian almost laughed, feeling a little more at ease with Corbin bantering again. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched Reverie brush her horse a moment before responding.
"I made her choke on her drink while she came apart at the dinner table," Dorian said.
The chunk of apple Corbin had just popped into his mouth came spewing out and hit Dorian in the face. Dorian frowned and wiped the spit off his cheek.
"Manners, Second," he mocked.
"You toyed with her beneath the dinner table?" Corbin asked. "In the middle of the tavern. With drinking games presumably underway."
"Yes," Dorian said. "Speaking of which, where were you?"
"Gathering our shit for the ride today—did you—pleasetell me you didn't leave her in the middle like you do me."
"That hurts you think I would do that to her."
"Should I feel special?"
"Maybe."
Corbin watched him expectantly.
"What?" Dorian asked.
"I'm waiting on the brag," Corbin said.
"No brag," Dorian shrugged.
A disbelieving raise of brows came from his Second, and Dorian chuckled under his breath.
"Alright, fine," Dorian gave in. "She shattered like a broken mirror. Is that what you wanted to hear? I wasn't aware you were so curious about her."
"Hard not to be," Corbin admitted.
To this, Dorian smiled leeringly, and he clasped Corbin on his cheek. "If you're thinking what I am, the answer is yes."
Corbin shoved him off, apparently knowing of Dorian's flirting games, and he shook his head. "I hope she murders you," Corbin mocked him.
