An Annual Pissing Contest?
There’s a contest for peeing?
Luca tilted his head, golden eyes blinking in sincere confusion. He tried very hard to understand why a competition like that would exist, let alone be famous enough to be scheduled around. "So...everyone would watch?"
And just how would people compete?
He was mid-mental image when Xavier leaned in, his voice low and amused. "Luca," he murmured, "they didn’t mean it literally."
"Huh...?" the little chipmunk frowned, still trying to piece it together.
"It’s a figure of speech that means a pointless competition for superiority," explained the prince, who took the risk to unravel this one.
"At some point in time, boys stood next to each other to see who could do it the farthest, the longest, the highest, or more accurately."
"...And if someone could win in that, then they’d feel superior," continued Xavier, who couldn’t have foreseen his fate.
"Oh." Nodded the shorty who was in deep contemplation.
Then a pause.
Luca’s mouth parted slightly. His gaze... slowly dropped.
And the helpless prince watched it happen in real time as he felt that telltale chill of incoming danger. His hand twitched.
Golden eyes moved lower, then lower, zeroing in on the part of Xavier’s anatomy that had, once upon a very intense moment, been tested in duress.
He had seen it.
So...if there was such a contest...
Would Xavier win that, too? Just like every other contest?
Is that what it would take to be the winner?
Xavier raised an eyebrow.
The silence dragged.
"...Luca," he murmured, for both their sakes. "My eyes are up here."
But instead of the shyness he was expecting, what he saw was curiosity and anticipation as Luca blinked up at him with those big, clear eyes.
It was social suicide.
Or breaking his little wife’s blind faith in him by being a loser.
And for a moment, it felt like answering was harder than getting hospitalized for his earlier broken ribs.
"I-I’ll tell you the winning strategies later..." stammered the Imperial Crown Prince of Solaris as his hand ruffled Luca’s hair.
It should be fine. It was not like he still had any dignity left to save, thought the man who had just given up.
At least one of them still thought the world of him.
Thankfully, someone was more shameless than the husband, who was only trying his best, as a certain blonde offered to do the same because he allegedly knew the best strategies.
And bigger brothers were supposed to be teaching this, so naturally, that was his job, right?
"..."
At this, Kyle, who was originally partly mortified yet amused, sighed so hard he could’ve probably dislocated a lung, if that were even possible. freewebnøvel.com
But the wallowing could not set in because the pissing contest was apparently an important one, especially for a house that needed a stage.
"I don’t believe we’re giving them an edge. If anything, I think we’re giving them a concession."
"Also, wouldn’t you earn the most if it’s done like this?"
Duke Leander’s words echoed through the room, but the marquis thought that he wasn’t exactly wrong.
For just how would these people be defeated with this level of advancement?
Apparently with finesse and showmanship.
Oh hell.
It had been a day, but in that very short day, several people learned of what it really took to "win" at this expo.
See, there wasn’t even an official competition and yet the people from different houses fought like their names were on the line.
From the entrance march to the parade and display of their top-of-the-line mechas, to the eventual booth that would display their notable contributions as of late, these people didn’t hold back.
And if those superficial things didn’t hold them back, then they especially went all out on the mecha exhibition.
However, the fighting or even the display of technology wasn’t the issue; it was how they competed in dancing, attire, and etiquette, especially with the attendance of the Imperial Family.
Truly a worrisome deal as Kyle, Xavier, and Killian exchanged knowing looks.
For years, Xavier, Kyle, and Jax skipped these events because they didn’t really have anything to do with them.
But how could they skip out on this when their guild would have to attend?
Maybe it was not too late to choose plastic surgery as an option, thought a certain adjutant who knew what kind of shit show was at hand.
Thankfully, it was still three months from now—nine if he decided that the outside world was too much for him to handle.
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