This one was inspired by the weird little stunt in the middle of Pin the Tail on the Dukes. It's a strange episode all around, which makes Luke's little Tarzan act in the middle almost seem normal. Except even Bo notices that it's above-average foolishness, even for Duke boys.
It's just that kind of a reckless day.
There goes Luke, swinging across Hazzard Square on a damn rope, then hitching a ride on a mover's cart full of furniture. What a show off. Even Rosco over there is awed into inaction, just standing there watching after his cousin's—
Hector slaps him on the arm and points forward. Oh yeah, there's a road in front of him, and even some cars. It'll make this dramatic getaway that much less effective if he runs into something now. The amazing flying Luke Duke, thwarted by his spastic baby cousin. That brings back painful childhood memories.
Bo manages his usual one eye on the road and one eye on Luke, even if his cousin is behind them in Jesse's pickup. At least Rosco seems to be out of his Luke-induced stupor and in hot pursuit.
The Duke boys split up, figuring the sheriff can only follow one. It's not really premeditated when Bo chooses the high road. All the same, when he's got the General airborne and just about scraping the undercarriage on the pickup's roof, it dawns on him that it could just be spite. I can fly, too. Sadly, no one but Hector is there to see it, and Bo's got a pretty good idea that his eyes were closed the whole time.
Seems like hours before it's just him and Luke again, running from a weird charge and chasing down a strange lead. Hiding in the bushes and spying on Cletus, and he grabs Luke's wrist at a time when his cousin can't shake him off or complain out loud. Red-rubbed rope burn there on his palm, rough skin torn up with streaks of blood across it. Bo tsks but doesn't touch.
"It don't hurt," Luke whispers. So much for thoughtfulness, Bo runs his right fingers lightly over Luke's palm. Gets hissed at and his own wrist snatched in a vice grip grasp – stop. "No much, anyways. Look at Cletus." And Bo does, because the man's doing something genuinely bizarre over there by his car, primping and preening, and blow drying his mostly bald head. Luke's hands will still be raw later; this here is a one-time entertainment event.
Later has to keep getting put off, what with Jesse's friend Hector being such a stubborn fool. He's got it in for Boss, Boss has it in for him, and somehow Hector's the only one who doesn't see how the deck is stacked. Luke survived that crazy rope swing, but Bo's not going to let Hector get the idiot to pull that kind of a fool stunt again. So the boys keep him with them while they run around in circles all day. Finally, after a feat that ought to be spectacular but somehow feels routine, the Duke boys solve their own problems and Hector's all at once.
Which leads to Jesse heading over to the man's farm (with the Dukes' ax as a housewarming gift – as odd a choice for a present as it is, Bo won't miss that sucker one bit) to help him settle in. Daisy follows about an hour later, carrying a peach pie that Bo is going to miss. He wonders aloud how it's really going to help the old men set up a household, which gets him laughed at by Luke and swatted over the head by Daisy's free hand, and then she's gone.
Luke tries to get up from where they've been sitting at the kitchen table, like he can slink off to the shower without Bo getting a better look at his hands. No gonna happen, not the way Bo's got a grip on his arm. Luke gives a half-hearted pull, then sits back down.
It's funny what a man can hold onto. Years of black eyes, split lips, cracked ribs and even that broken collar bone later, Bo remembers his tiny hands being held in Luke's while bits of dirt and gravel got picked out. It was just that kind of a reckless day, ending in a skirmish with a goat; couldn't have been long after Aunt Lavinia passed away. Exactly where Jesse was, Bo can't remember now, but he couldn't have been far. All the same, Luke didn't go looking for help, even with all the screaming Bo did in his ear. He just sat on the porch, cross-legged, and pulled Bo into his lap, then set to work shushing him and cleaning the mess out of the cuts as best he could. Seems like Daisy might have shown up with a clean cloth in there somewhere, but Bo can't swear to that part. Only Luke, close and calm and warm, taking away his fear and pain.
"Ain't nothing you can do about it, Bo. It's just a rope burn." And Luke'd be glad to walk away on just that notion, but Bo remembers the feel of tight arms and soft fingers, and the quiet tones of Luke's prepubescent voice in his ear.
"Let's clean it up," is Bo's assessment of the damage.
Luke wants to argue the point with a simple, "Bo." It's got that sound that doesn't suffer fools gladly, but will suffer them if it's absolutely necessary. And it is.
"Sink," Bo informs him.
Luke sighs, but gives in and stands up. Gets right up to the sink and reaches for the faucet, but Bo won't let him grab the handles. "Just relax," he tells his cousin, while he gets the water running, then makes sure it's just about skin temperature. Left to his own devices, Luke would scald his already broken skin.
"Ain't gonna kill no germs that way," Luke advises him.
"Settle down," Bo mutters. It would be nice if Luke would help him repay this easily fifteen-year-old debt, but that's too much to ask of his cousin. "And just put your hands in there."
"Fine." His eyes probably roll too, but Bo will never know, because he steps behind his cousin and wraps his arms around to help with the cleaning process. Every now and then his right hand slips out of the stream of water to nudge the hot water up a notch. When it's hot enough that even Luke ought to be satisfied, he settles into a rhythm of rubbing his thumbs across Luke's palms, and rests his chin on Luke's shoulder. His cousin is on his most tolerant behavior.
"Don't go pulling stunts like that no more," Bo says, risking an end to this peaceful moment. But Luke just breathes in-out, in-out, heavy enough that his rib cage rises and falls under Bo's arms. "You could have got really hurt."
"Ain't gonna happen," is the answer, and Bo's not sure what Luke means by that, whether he's promising not to take that kind of risk again, or whether he reckons he'll never really get hurt. He'd make his cousin clarify his meaning, but simultaneous with the words, Luke leans his cheek against Bo's in an incredible show of affection, the likes of which Bo hasn't known since that gravel-and-dirt day all those years ago. Without his brain doing any thinking, Bo's hands come away from where they've been holding onto Luke's and wrap around his cousin's chest. Which is likely to ruin the moment, because Luke's cheek has lifted away from his and his face is turning toward Bo's.
In anticipation of the imminent rejection, Bo backs his head away from Luke's shoulder. Gets surprised when a wet hand grabs him by the hair to hold him still, wet wrist pressing against his cheek to turn his face to meet up with Luke's. A kiss, nothing to do with thanks, more like something pent up and long frustrated, rough and ravenous, and Bo feels his own mouth echo the emptiness he has felt but not recognized until now.
"Luke," he says, or tries to. Comes out minus its consonants, what his the way his tongue is otherwise engaged. It's all right, though. Bo doesn't really want to talk, and what he does have in mind has more to do with showing than telling. He wants to be closer, has to take a step away to achieve it. Luke doesn't much care for that development, pulls at his hair, so Bo's hands find hard shoulders and show them how to turn, the dance step they'll need to perform in order to do this right. Luke finally gives in, two wet hands in Bo's hair now, elbows on his shoulders and pushing – go this way.
"The water," Bo mumbles into Luke's lips. Funny how good the first syllable of that second word feels.
"Ain't going nowheres." Nice parts to that phrase too, Bo notices before the backs of his legs hit the kitchen table. It's just that kind of a reckless day.