Possible trigger: Big internal struggle heightened by past /
There's a movie quote in this one - at least, something someone quoted in the movie. ^_-
So yeah, it's been forever, but today was Doc's birthday, so I felt like I needed to get this chapter done and posted. Sorry if there are errors. Feel free to point them out and I'll try to fix them.
Once back in their room, Doc shed his shirt and trousers again. He made himself comfortable with his flask. Wyatt seemed reflective when he returned, and Doc wondered if he was going to stay up a while, studying that "holey" Bible. But then Wyatt set it aside and put out the light.
Doc felt more relaxed than he had in some time, but his mind kept going over their immediate plans: Get some clothing washed. Get a shave. Return to Kit Carson for James. For some reason, the thought of retrieving James felt unpleasant. That was illogical. James was Wyatt's brother, and not difficult to get along with. But getting the third member of their party back would make things more...
Less intimate.
Wyatt shifted. Apparently, he wasn't sleeping yet either. Something always seemed to go wrong—the uncomfortable sleeping arrangements, nightmares, or worrying about the hazards of the road. Doc's cough had come and gone. It wasn't bad right now. But it was another new town, another new bed. He didn't mind the transient life, but there was no getting used to anything.
"You know what it is?" he finally said aloud. "We haven't slept the same place twice in over a week. Can't get used to anything."
All Wyatt said was, "Maybe."
Except you. And that voice of yours. And your arm around me last night. "There is one familiar thing, though."
"What's that?"
"The company."
"True." Something in Wyatt's voice made Doc think he was smiling.
"It's all right if you want to come over here." Where the hell did that come from? What if he takes it the wrong way? Hell, is there a right way to take it? Heat flooded Doc's face.
Wyatt's silence made it clear that he wasn't sure how to take the suggestion.
Doc swallowed and tried to force his voice to be steady. He needed to salvage this somehow. "'Course, it's all right if you don't, too."
Now, Wyatt could bow out gracefully with a "Thanks for the offer, but it's all right" or some such thing.
Wyatt stirred in the darkness.
Is he stalling? Did he nod off after all? Shit, is he coming to throttle me?
Wyatt's weight caused the bed to sag, and Doc moved the covers and himself quickly out of the way. He decided not to say anything unless Wyatt broke the silence.
"Good night, John."
Doc pulled the covers up over Wyatt. He gave a little cough to relieve the irritation in his throat. "Good night, Wyatt."
As they settled, their arms touched. Neither of them moved away. On the contrary, as they became more sleepy, less rigid, they shared more and more contact and a spreading warmth, almost too warm.
Doc shifted slightly and let his head loll onto Wyatt's shoulder. At last, he felt sleep coming over him. Perfect. Peace. Unbidden, one of the many scripture verses he had committed to memory as a child played through his mind. Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee. He was too far beyond wakefulness to make anything of it.
Wyatt woke up disoriented. The ground under him was hot. He lifted his head and saw sand, tumbleweeds, and cactus. What the hell? He sat up and saw someone else collapsed in the sand ahead of him. Doc.
He crawled forward. Ripples of heat must be playing tricks on his eyes—it took so long to go the distance that had looked like only a few yards. "Doc?" Wyatt laid his hand on Doc's shoulder and found him hot to the touch, like everything else. "Doc... it's just a dream. Wake up."
This time truly awake, Wyatt sucked in a desperate breath. It was hard to shake off the feeling of being in the desert. His undershirt was soaked with sweat, and heat surrounded him. He pushed the bedclothes back and rolled onto his side. Pale light from the window showed him that Doc was still asleep.
Wyatt reached out to feel Doc's forehead and found him hot and damp as well. He shoved the covers off Doc, down to his waist. He laid his hand on Doc's chest and found his heartbeat to be rather quick. He got out of the bed and lit the lamp, lowering the wick so the room remained dim. Then he went to the wash basin to dampen a cloth and bring it back to soothe his friend's feverish skin.
He smoothed Doc's hair away from his face as he worked. "You've got to take better care of yourself," he muttered. He wondered if Doc's health would have been better if he hadn't been dragged over 350 miles of rugged terrain. Undoubtedly.
This is just a bad spell. He's not dying...yet. God... if you hear me, don't take him from me. I love this man. Wyatt paused his ministrations a moment. Love? He shook off the uncomfortable feeling. I'd say the same of my brothers. He's dear to me. He rested the back of his hand against Doc's forehead and found it a little cooler. He placed his hand on Doc's chest again and noted that his heartbeat seemed slower and steadier. "That's it," he said softly. "You take it easy."
He draped the cloth over the headboard and got back into bed. He pulled only the sheet back over them, to prevent trapping their heat like that again. Then he put out the lamp and settled down against his friend.
Doc nestled against Wyatt, head resting on his shoulder.
Wyatt nearly asked if he was awake, but decided that even if he was, he needed to get back to sleep if he could. He reached up to stroke Doc's hair. Let him object if he deems it inappropriate. But there was no response. Sleep well, Doc.
Monday morning, Doc felt more rested than he had in weeks. He found himself nestled in against Wyatt, almost as he might have found himself with Kate of a morning. He recollected waking during the night. Had Wyatt been cooling him down? Fondling his hair? In the light of day, it seemed silly, but here they were, after all. Perhaps it had happened as he remembered.
He slid his arm around Wyatt's lean frame and nuzzled his shoulder.
Wyatt stirred and shifted toward Doc. "Hey... it's morning."
"These things do happen. Typically after nighttime."
"How are you feeling?"
"This may surprise you, but I feel well."
"Good." Wyatt swiftly raised his hand and gave Doc's head a gentle smack. "Don't make jokes at my expense."
Doc laughed, caught by surprise. He shouldn't let Wyatt get away with that, but he was in too good a mood to retaliate. "Whatever you say."
"I should see about the washing." Wyatt moved as if to get up.
Doc tightened his arm around Wyatt's ribs. "Wait."
Wyatt settled back on the bed.
Doc let his head rest on Wyatt's shoulder again. I don't care if I'm being selfish. I want to keep him as long as I can. "Was I very sick last night?"
"It seemed so." Wyatt's tone was solemn.
I worried him, didn't I? "I should thank you."
"That's not necessary." Wyatt combed through Doc's hair with his fingers and then rested his hand on Doc's neck.
Doc felt a warmth in his chest... and then in his groin. Oh, shit. He moved slightly away from Wyatt. "Well, what are you waiting for? See about the washing."
Wyatt muttered something and sat up.
Doc missed his friend's warmth, but there was no helping it. Damn fool body. Don't you know the difference between one touch and another?
But maybe there wasn't much difference. Maybe this was the natural inclination of man whenever a certain boundary was passed. Perhaps this was why men didn't do this sort of thing. They were too vulnerable to impropriety. Doc remembered all too well that his body would betray him, whether his mind did or not. He also remembered the feeling of self-loathing that came afterward.
I've got to stop this nonsense, Doc decided as he watched Wyatt get dressed. For his sake. Maybe I'm going to hell anyway, but he still has a chance.
"These things do happen. Typically after nighttime," Doc quipped.
Ass. "How are you feeling?"
"This may surprise you, but I feel well."
"Good." Wyatt gave Doc's head a light smack. "Don't make jokes at my expense."
Doc laughed. "Whatever you say."
Wyatt liked that laugh. It brought out a smile of his own. "I should see about the washing." He started to get up.
Doc tightened his arm around Wyatt's ribs. "Wait."
Wyatt settled back on the bed, his heart picking up the pace a little.
Doc lowered his head to rest on Wyatt's shoulder again. "Was I very sick last night?"
Wyatt remembered the concern he had felt for Doc as he attempted to cool him down. "It seemed so."
"I should thank you." It seemed that Doc had been awake for at least part of the incident.
"That's not necessary." I wonder if he'd let me pet him now. Wyatt impulsively reached up to comb through Doc's hair with his fingers and then rested his hand on Doc's neck.
Doc moved slightly away from him. "Well, what are you waiting for? See about the washing."
I guess that was going too far. But he started it. "I was going to do that until you stopped me," Wyatt muttered as he sat up.
This was not how he wanted to start the day. He already missed the feeling of Doc's warmth against him. He wished he hadn't pushed things, whether Doc's response was fair or not. Was this to be the end of it? Would they go back to being ordinary friends like average men? The idea rather sickened him, like some imp was pouring sand into his stomach.
The feeling stayed with him through breakfast, taking away much of his usual appetite. Doc eyed his plate a few times, but he did not remark on it. They spoke of their plans a bit, and then fell into a silence that was tense on Wyatt's side.
"Well," Wyatt said at last, when he had managed to eat most of his meal, "I guess you want to start drumming up business."
Doc nodded.
"I'll take care of our other business, then. I'll find you after."
"I'm sure you will."
They parted outside the hotel, Doc heading for the busiest part of town, and Wyatt taking the clerk's directions to a modest establishment with a hand-painted sign out front that read "Ma Park's Washing & Ironing." Wyatt made arrangements with the businesswoman to pick up their washing from the hotel and return it that afternoon. That taken care of, he made his way to a barber's shop for a shave. He gave the barber strict instructions to leave his mustache alone.
As he leaned back in the chair, his mind jumped back to waking up that morning. Doc's arm around him had felt so good... Forget it. Whatever that was about, it seems to be over now. Focus on getting back to James and then Dodge. And Mattie.
That was what he needed—one hell of a reunion with his girl. Then he'd be able to forget all of this... other stuff.
Doc got his shave first thing, at the busier barber's shop on the main street. There, he struck up a conversation with the barber and a couple of other men in the shop. They talked about Colorado Bob, Wyatt's budding reputation in Dodge, and eventually where was the best place to find a card game early in the day.
"There's always a penny Faro game going at Louis's," one man said. "Sometimes you can get a poker game before lunch. Definitely after noon."
"Louis's sounds like a promising locale," Doc said. "I believe I'll have a look when I'm done here."
"Don't mind if I go along with you—I can show you where it is."
Doc looked the man over, decided he looked reasonably respectable, and nodded. "I'd be obliged."
From there, the day passed like a day in Dodge. Though he preferred to be the banker at Faro, when it was the only game in town, Doc would play punter. He watched the deal box and the dealer's hands closely. He knew how easily the game was manipulated, but even when the deck was tightly controlled, it was difficult to manipulate the bets of the punters. There was always a chance to win.
As luck would have it, this dealer wasn't all that sly. Doc began to recognize the way he tried to guide the game along. He avoided losing most of his bets and managed to win a few. Still, he was glad when business picked up in the saloon and men began talking about other games.
A little after eleven o'clock, Wyatt came into the saloon. He was cleanshaven (apart from his mustache, which was bright and neat) and looking good.
Doc smiled and waved his friend over. "Wyatt, these gentlemen and I were just arranging a game of poker. Will you sit in?"
"I don't know if I should get up to trouble before noon," Wyatt answered. But he sat down.
Doc shuffled the deck. "Come, come now. Poker is an honest trade, isn't that right, gentlemen?"
The other two men at the table agreed, and Doc began dealing the cards. He sent four aces to Wyatt right off the bat, just to see what he would do.
Oh, Doc... what are you doing?! LOL
Doc is leaving the general denial phase and entering a self-denial phase due to concern for his friend. But confusing feelings aside, he's still the same old Doc.