"My words," Corrival corrected, "were 'What do you think this is, Ravel, a circus? Just because you're a bunch of clowns doesn't mean you can skive off, so get down and do your bloody job'." He grimaced. "I was grumpy."
It was the nearest thing to an apology he could offer. That had been a difficult several months. It wasn't even the fights themselves; it was the fact they were each tiny skirmishes, never enough to let go the tension, and all the while they were waiting for an out-and-out battle. It was like getting cock-blocked, only the eventual release was far less pleasurable. They all understood that, and it was a situation no one could help being grumpy in.
"As if I was the second choice," Dexter complained, voice still muffled because he'd shifted his face away again, as if trying to get comfortable. "The only reason Anton turned him down was because he got tired of Rover trying to cuddle him in his sleep. You'd think he'd be smart enough not to share a tent if he didn't want to be used as a pillow."
"But you don't mind being a pillow?" Melissa asked, amusement in her voice.
"Who said I was the one being used as a pillow throughout our marriage?" Dexter asked innocently. The only reason it came out innocently at all was because they couldn't see his face. It wasn't that he had his face deliberately pressed into Erskine's arm ... it was just that the angle meant that it was anyway. He raised one hand to punch Erskine's lethargically in the chest. "And I was too the husband. That was my condition: that I got to be the husband. Just because I never actually got him to promise it doesn't mean anything."
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"My words," Corrival corrected, "were 'What do you think this is, Ravel, a circus? Just because you're a bunch of clowns doesn't mean you can skive off, so get down and do your bloody job'." He grimaced. "I was grumpy."
It was the nearest thing to an apology he could offer. That had been a difficult several months. It wasn't even the fights themselves; it was the fact they were each tiny skirmishes, never enough to let go the tension, and all the while they were waiting for an out-and-out battle. It was like getting cock-blocked, only the eventual release was far less pleasurable. They all understood that, and it was a situation no one could help being grumpy in.
"As if I was the second choice," Dexter complained, voice still muffled because he'd shifted his face away again, as if trying to get comfortable. "The only reason Anton turned him down was because he got tired of Rover trying to cuddle him in his sleep. You'd think he'd be smart enough not to share a tent if he didn't want to be used as a pillow."
"But you don't mind being a pillow?" Melissa asked, amusement in her voice.
"Who said I was the one being used as a pillow throughout our marriage?" Dexter asked innocently. The only reason it came out innocently at all was because they couldn't see his face. It wasn't that he had his face deliberately pressed into Erskine's arm ... it was just that the angle meant that it was anyway. He raised one hand to punch Erskine's lethargically in the chest. "And I was too the husband. That was my condition: that I got to be the husband. Just because I never actually got him to promise it doesn't mean anything."