Ginger eyebrows raised minutely, a silent "Well, you tell Margaery absolutely everything so why can't I?" rebuttal to Jon's not-so-subtle finger pointing. It was all rather childishly petty when one thought about it; he'd known Renly for ages it seemed - not as long as Jon and his Tyrell BFF had been joined at the gossiping hip, he'd admit, but still. So, by rights there was really no reason why he couldn't keep his best mate in the loop. His reasons were completely innocent, you know (alright, not so squeaky clean as all that since there was the ultimate goal of getting Jon face down and arse up in Renly's dungeon to consider).
"All Jon's doing," he admitted, swirling highball contents before downing a healthy dose. "Work will be mad for him the next little while and I want to get in as much playtime as I can before he goes half zombie on me..."
The corners of Robb's mouth bent in a playful, 'It's a joke you're not in on' sort of smug amusement when he again caught Renly's attention. Cock-wagging from afar was nothing out of the ordinary for the two. Hell, most of the time they made a game of it, Add a little more alcohol to an already lethal witches brew and they'd quickly de-evolve to sniggering schoolboys, one trying to outdo the other as hands reached for respective zips all to the tune of throbbing bass beat porno music circa 1979. It was all fun and games. No harm, no foul and nobody got hurt so long as lad's Most Excellent Adventures stayed well off their S.O.'s radar.
"You're coming up on a big milestone, yeah? Making any plans to celebrate in style or are you just ordering in a steady stream of prancing poofs for the ultimate nine-way fantasy?"