From The Rustlers, this one started out light, based on that moment when everyone's sitting on the farmhouse porch, eating watermelon. Luke's cutting his with his knife, not exactly chowing down. Meanwhile, everyone else, including Daisy, is eating the watermelon picnic-style, just biting right in. As the scene draws to a conclusion and everyone gets up to go to their cars, if you look closely, you can see watermelon dribble on Bo's cheek.
That's where this vignette started. How it got so serious is anyone's guess. (Or Bo's fault. One or the other.)
There's no point in looking at Daisy. He already knows she's going to be spotless, no matter what she's in the middle of. And Jesse doesn't count; he's been saintly since before he and Bo were even born, even if he does have that beard that ought to complicate things. It's Cooter that's the indicator. Man's a slob that can barely manage to get decently dressed each morning, and doesn't bother to scrape the whiskers off his face, most days. But he's got control of his watermelon. Luke does too, of course, what with using his knife to eat it.
Bo's got a knife too, but it wouldn't occur to him to use anything approaching silverware. No, he doesn't presume to do anything less than shove his face right down into that slice of watermelon, and let the juice drip where it may.
Jesse decides they've been sitting too long and need to split up to look for the rustled racehorse. Funny, since it was the old man who insisted on this little respite to begin with, but now that he's had his fill of resting, they're off in different directions. Except him and Bo, of course. One General Lee for two Duke boys.
Which means watching pink juice dribble out of the corner of Bo's mouth. Staring, actually, because if he had sticky liquid coming out of his mouth, he'd sure as hell be able to feel it, and he'd wipe it away. Bo's either oblivious or just saving that little bit for later. Either way, they're not a half mile down Old Mill Road when Luke can't tolerate another second, and he pulls his own sleeve up over his wrist to wipe the mess off Bo's face.
"Luke!" is how he gets thanked for his efforts. Offense, incongruously followed by a silly giggle. "What did you just do?"
Luke's back in his own seat now, like he never leaned over into Bo's. Sitting back and watching trees get narrowly missed at high speed. "Nothing," he answers. "That you shouldn't have done yourself."
"Did you just use your shirt like a napkin? On my face?" Punctuated by a few huh-ha's that squeak at the end like one of them little squeeze horns that kids put on their bicycles.
Where Bo gets off laughing at him, Luke has no idea. His cousin's the slob that ain't never learned decent table manners. "I wiped the mess off your face," he informs Bo. "Which you shoulda done before we left home. Or better yet, you coulda stopped at one slice of watermelon instead of scarfing them down double time."
There are still giggles coming from his left as Bo swings them off the road and onto an old deer path that'll lead them cross country. "You're my wife," Bo informs him.
That barely deserves his attention, and he has every intention of ignoring it when his mouth demands, "What?" without checking with his brain for permission. Finds himself looking at his cousin through halfway squinted eyes, too.
"Don't you remember?" Bo asks him, as they skid onto the Doolans' back forty. There's an old pasture back here where the two of them used to ride Dobro's father's horses as kids. For all that his cousin has no sense of cleanliness, he's got decent horse-sense. This would be a fine place to hide Manassas. "Lavinia used to do that for Jesse, after dinner."
Bo's got to be making that up. Luke doesn't remember it, and he's got four years on his cousin. If it's not stored in Luke's brain, it didn't happen. Luke's yanking himself out of the window even as the General skids to a halt. His speed is all about finding the horse, and has nothing to do with images that Bo has put in his brain, things he can't swear aren't actually memories that have been prodded back to life.
"Except," Bo says after the engine's roar has died and he's pulling himself out of the driver's side. Luke could tell time by the seconds between the grunted words that indicate his cousin's still working his way out of the car until the arm lands around his shoulders. Four point three seconds, which is faster than the General can go from zero to sixty. "You didn't kiss me."
Luke just keeps on heading for the railing fence ahead, even though he's pretty damned sure there are no horses here. It's not like he and Bo couldn't smell if one were nearby, and all he can detect is rotting leaves.
"See," Bo says, all close to his ear. Hot breath and watermelon sticky lips just about touching his face. "She used to wipe his mouth for him, then kiss it. You ain't kissed me."
"You upset about that?" Luke asks him, leaning forward against the white fence that they've just reached. "Manassas ain't here," he observes, what with the very real possibility that Bo hasn't noticed.
"Yeah," Bo agrees. Or not: "I just reckon that if you're my wife, you'd want to kiss me."
Oh yeah, smart guy needs a lesson in exactly how funny he isn't. Bo wants a kiss, so Luke turns his head with every intention of giving him one. A lick on the cheek, maybe.
But gets met before he's ready, by Bo's lips. Tilted head, too, just like Lavinia kissed Jesse when they were standing in the doorway under the mistletoe that last Christmas she was with them…
Luke leans into the kiss, every intention of losing himself in it. Images of his aunt are flooding his brain, birthdays and breakfasts and kisses in his hair when she sent him off to school. My little man and I love you, and things that maybe only Bo would understand. He uses his tongue to put the words back into Bo's mouth, force them to be unsaid and clear his mind of memories he never wants to revisit, emotions he doesn't want to feel.
Breathing gets hard, the kiss has to stop. By then Bo's holding him with both arms, keeping him close to that barrel chest. Luke lets him, rests there and tries to bring his breathing back to normal.
"Shh, Luke." Totally inappropriate words. Luke's not making any sound to be shushed. "Easy now." Bo sounds scared, and why is that? It was him that started this whole thing.
One more minute to get himself under control, collect enough air to talk. He shoves himself away from Bo and turns back toward the General.
"We got to go find Manassas," he reminds Bo. He's not surprised when Bo's arm slings around his shoulders again. He doesn't do anything to get it off, either.
"Yeah," Bo agrees quietly, and the rest of the trip back to the car is silent.