The Fly-Half (Lincoln Knights #2)

Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

Jonny

I looked down at the rough notes I’d made from our last game of Dungeons & Dragons with a raised eyebrow, racking my brains as I tried to figure out what the fuck “Flint hates the angry rabbit” referred to. We didn’t have any rabbits in the party and I didn’t remember encountering any. But there must have been something rabbit related in the last session. Otherwise why would I have left the note?

I’d have to ask one of the others and hope their memory was better than mine, even though none of them kept any sort of decent notes.

Ryan would probably know, but he was our Dungeon Master, so it was part of his job to keep track of all the ridiculous shit we did even though I was sure it pained him to do so. If he’d been hoping this would turn out to be a serious campaign, the antics of our group had put that notion to bed within about three sessions.

We tried to do good but the results were… varied. Mostly because we were a bunch of fucking liabilities with no self-preservation and even less common sense.

“Does anyone know why I hate the angry rabbit?” I asked, glancing around the table where everyone else was setting up. Rory, who was a drag queen, West’s partner, and our bubbly elven warlock, looked up from the small stack of glittering dice he’d been sorting through and frowned.

“Is that the rabbit from the forest? The one that Basil picked a fight with?”

“Oh, I’d forgotten about that,” West said with a nod. He was not only a very good hooker with the Knights but also our party’s paladin, who had a very obvious crush on Rory’s character but had so far not managed to get any further than “Thanks for killing that guy” and “Do you like flowers?” in terms of flirting. It was cute but Mason’s and my characters had started getting to the point where we were actively trying to set them up simply because the tension was unbearable to watch. Next time we got to an inn, I was paying for them to share a room. With only one bed.

Although if their characters got together, I was sure they’d then spend all the time shooting fuck-me eyes at each other rather than half the time. At least Mason and Ryan mostly managed to keep it in their pants, apart from all the times Ryan had made hot NPCs for Mason to flirt with. Playing D&D with two couples definitely made things interesting. And that was the polite way to put it.

I still loved them, though. And despite their antics, they always made me feel welcome and included, and I got the idea that if I ever thought about leaving, I’d be tackled to the floor and chained to the table.

It was like I’d taken a secret blood oath, only without the shedding of blood. Unless they counted what happened on the rugby pitch.

“Yeah, didn’t Basil pick on that rabbit we saw because the rabbit was eating something Basil wanted?” Mason asked as he put a cup of tea on the table by his laptop. Despite the evening chill, he was still only wearing joggers and a skintight T-shirt that had “Sorry for having great tits and correct opinions” plastered across his chest.

I wasn’t going to point out he was completely wrong about the correct opinions part.

“Basil didn’t pick on anyone,” I said, slightly miffed that they would accuse the goose my character had adopted of anything less than angelic behaviour. Even if Ryan and I did play Basil as a very angry little goose who’d stolen and wielded a knife at least once. “That rabbit stole his sweetcorn and strawberries! Basil was just defending himself.”

“And that’s why Flint hates the angry rabbit,” Rory said with a laugh as he rolled another D20 into his dice tray and nodded. “This dice is playing nicely, so I’m going to use this one. The rest can go to dice jail.”

“How many dice sets do you have now?” Mason asked.

“Too many,” West muttered fondly, and I chuckled under my breath at Rory’s outraged expression.

“Excuse me but there is nothing wrong with having multiple dice sets! Especially when they’re all so pretty.”

“He has a point,” I said as I made a note about the thieving rabbit. If we saw it again, it would be rabbit stew for dinner. Flint was a rogue and therefore a sneaky bastard, so hunting down the rabbit should be easy. Emphasis on should . “Besides, we’ll need multiple dice when we start doing a lot more attacks and damage. Paladins can eventually do five D8s’ worth of divine smite damage, so it’d be easier to have loads of D8s instead of rolling the same one over and over.”

“Thank you!” Rory said with a grin, shooting me a little wink and a kiss. “See, Jonny gets it.”

“You just want the opportunity to buy more dice,” West said as he leant over to kiss Rory.

“Do you mind?”

“No, because it makes you happy. And that’s all I want.” He kissed Rory again, the pair of them smiling. They’d been together for about a year now and every time I saw them it made me believe that maybe there was such a thing as true love. The pair of them were so different in many ways, but at their core they were fundamentally the same. One just came wrapped in glitter and the other in mud.

“As adorable as you two are, this is too sweet for me,” Ryan said as he strolled over to the dining table with a stack of notebooks and reference books on top of his laptop and a large bag of dice balanced somewhat precariously on top. He was wearing a lime green leopard print sweater and acid pink jogging bottoms with a pair of large fluffy slippers. He leant in to kiss Mason on the way past and Mason put his hand on Ryan’s waist to pull him in for a deeper one.

If West and Rory were too sweet, then Ryan and Mason were just as sickening. But I was happy for them even if I now knew far too much about their sex life and what got Mason off.

I probably needed to tell them I could hear them. We’d all laugh about it, be embarrassed for a few days, and then I’d take Devon’s advice and dig my earplugs out.

“Um, if we’re too sweet, then what are you?” Rory demanded, pushing up the sleeves of the enormous Knights hoodie he was wearing, which had obviously come straight out of West’s wardrobe.

“Perfect, Sparkles,” Ryan said with a wink. “But you’re right, we should stop making out because you have adventures to undertake!”

“And you have plans to torment us,” West said with a laugh as he sat down.

“Exactly! Plus it’s really not fair to poor Jonny if he has to suffer through playing with two couples who are unbearable arseholes.”

“You’re fine,” I said with a wave, really not wanting to make this all about me and my lack of a dating life. Being single had never been a big deal to me and I’d never understood why people wanted to make it a thing. I’d brought girls home in the past but it hadn’t really done much for me, and while I always tried to be a gentleman who made sure they went home satisfied, over the last year I’d kind of stopped bothering.

Sex was fine and all, but I’d never found it to be the be all and end all of my existence. Maybe that would change depending on if I ended up with a partner I was really into, but I’d never been that fussed about dating either. It was too much hassle and everyone I’d ever met was just kind of… meh.

“And you are very sweet to put up with our shit,” Ryan said as they walked over to their end of the table and began arranging all their stuff behind the DM screen Mason had put out. “Oh, I had a question for you!”

“Right… am I going to like this?”

“Actually, it’s not about you.” They put the books to one side and shot me a sly smile as they opened their laptop. “Is Devon single?”

“Why?” I asked, bristling at the question.

“Because Peaches wanted to know. He’s single, he thinks Devon is cute, and he’s jealous that Rory and I are shacking up with gorgeous rugby players.” They winked, their tongue poking out the corner of their mouth, and even though I knew it was a joke, it still prickled something inside me. “No worries if he’s not, I just thought I’d ask. Mason thought he might be, but you’re his best friend, so…” Ryan left the thought hanging in the air and I nodded, trying to ignore the sharp irritation in my chest.

Devon had had more than his share of shitty exes over the years, including one particular dickhead—Alexandre—whose name still made me want to put a hole in the closest wall. And while Devon was an adult who was perfectly capable of making his own decisions, that didn’t mean I couldn’t protect him from men who wanted to hurt him. My best friend deserved so much better than some of the scumbags he’d shacked up with in the past, and if I had to send a few of them packing so he could see that, then so be it.

I’d gladly be the villain if it kept Devon safe.

Ryan was still waiting for an answer and Mason, West, and Rory were all looking at me, curiosity playing across their features. I swallowed.

“Yeah, he’s single,” I said eventually. “He’s just… he’s had a few shitty exes, so I’m not sure how interested he’d be. But he’s a grown-up. I can’t answer for him.”

Even if, for some reason, I wished I could.

Rory grinned. “Well, they always say the best way to get over one man is to get under another. Or find the sexiest man alive and let him absolutely blow your mind.” He leant over to kiss West’s cheek and out of the corner of my eye I could see him squeezing the top of West’s thigh.

“You’re being sickening again,” Ryan said. “Next time I’m going to get a spray bottle and squirt you.”

“Bitch, you wouldn’t.”

“Try me! Also I’m the DM. Be nice to me before I unleash a horde of monsters on you and make you roll a new character.”

Rory laughed but sat back in his chair, his hand still on West’s thigh under the table. He looked at me with something akin to an encouraging smile. “Peaches is a good guy. I’m pretty sure he’s got baggage, but who doesn’t? But he’s not a walking red flag.”

“Is his name actually Peaches?” Mason asked. “Can I ask that?”

“You can, but I can’t tell you the answer,” Ryan said. “In and out of drag, he’s always been Peaches. Unless you want to use his full drag name of Peachy Keen.”

“Peaches is a cute name, though,” Rory said. “Maybe he prefers it to his legal name? Oh, maybe his legal name is really awful, like… Nigel or Brian.”

“Nigel?” West asked with an amused eyebrow.

“Yeah, would you want to be called Nigel in 2024?”

“Probably not. Westley is bad enough.”

“Westley is cute and so is West,” Rory said. “What about you, Jonny? Are you legally Jonny or something else? You don’t have to tell me. I’m just nosy.”

His question dragged me back to the conversation from where I’d been brooding over my emotions. I didn’t even know what emotions they were, only that they were bubbling away in my chest like some foul perpetual stew. “Er, John. But I’ve never used it. The only person who does is my mum when she’s really pissed at me.”

There was a selection of nods and chuckles from around the room. “Mate, when my mum uses my full name, I know I’m in deep shit,” Mason said.

“That must be quite a lot,” I said wryly. From what I’d heard about Mason’s teenage years, I’d have full-named him a lot too.

“I don’t even live with her and she still does it over text!”

Ryan snorted and looked at his boyfriend fondly. “Did you forget her birthday again?”

“No! And that was one time when I was twenty-two.”

“You forgot your mum’s birthday?” Rory asked with a gasp, genuine shock written across his face. I knew he was very close to his family, and his mum had helped him make most of his drag wardrobe. “I could never.”

The conversation moved on to things they’d all forgotten until Ryan reminded us it was time to get started and asked who wanted to recap our last session, at which point everyone looked at me because I was the one who kept notes. I didn’t mind, though, because it was a good way to distract them from talking about Devon and Peaches.

But even when we started playing, my mind kept drifting back to Ryan’s initial question.

I couldn’t protect Devon forever. He was allowed to make his own decisions without any input from me.

So why did the idea of him going out with Peaches feel so wrong?