Ask for a room with two beds (for you and your platonic adventuring partner).

“Right this way, sirs.” The matron fumbles on a keyring and leads you both up the stairs. She unlocks a door and ushers you in. “Tis our finest beds, fireplace, and bath, sirs. With a water pump 'n all. Will y' be needin' anything else?” You ask for your horses to be taken care of. “Of course, of course,” she mutters as she leaves a key on the dresser and closes the door behind her.

“I think I could have killed the bandits with my stench,” Kheden deposits his packs, and immediately heads over to the in-room water pump. He strips off his leathers and shirt and stars pumping some water to wash up.

You can't help but take a long look at Kheden's muscular shoulders, working your way down to stop on a large brand on his lower right back. It's a triangle over a circle with a few other lines. Kheden doesn't like to talk about it or acknowledge it in any way. You respect that but are still curious. It doesn't match any magical symbol you've seen, and you even occasionally browse magic books when you're in a city library or home with such things. The first time you asked how he got it, he said 'It just happened'.

You tear your eyes away. Kheden must know that you sneak looks at him, but he's never said a word. The life of an adventurer typically requires long periods without feeding one's physical appetites. Your opportunities are much fewer and farther between then the occasional morally dubious seductress or grateful elven princess that Kheden happily satisfies. More than satisfies, you've imagined on more than one occasion... Neither of you are much for whoring, so hot summer days when Kheden sets up camp shirtless is the closest thing to a love life you usually get.

As if reading your mind, Kheden speaks over his shoulder, “You could have kept the ring. It would have more than paid for an evening's company.” He chuckles, “Unless you actually fancy the boy.”

“Oh, bother,” you roll your eyes. “He barely talked to us in three days. His fear loosened his tongue, that's all. I suspect he's got a curiosity, but I'm not foolish enough entertain a thought about someone from his station stepping down to mine.” You sigh, “Don't worry. I'll stumble upon another drunk city guard with no coin for a woman in another year or two.”

Kheden chuckles, he'd teased you about that for months. “Fine. Then at least buy a book of dirty poetry with your share of the bonus we earned. And another pair of socks.”

You and Kheden really have no secrets, like brothers. Or an old married couple without even the anniversary sex once a year.

“For once, I'd like it to be an _in_cubus. Just once. On that day, just let him finish me off,” you lament, as Kheden laughs as he washes his torso with a wet cloth. “I'll leave you my socks...” Kheden lets out a louder belt of laughter, when-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

You both look to the door. “Yes?” you speak loud enough to be heard through it.

“Tis Councilman Lord Thiem requires your presence downstairs,” a male voice calls back.

Your eyebrows go up. News must travel fast. “We'll attend him, presently,” you answer. You glance at Kheden and get a quick glance of his hairy muscular chest as he slips on a clean, presentable shirt. You run your fingers through your hair, and you both head out to meet with the Councilman.