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Henry could not stop thinking. His mind was running a hundred miles an hour; he felt like Walt contemplating alone on his hill of silence. The things that bothered him was needing to come out. But there is no decent way to form words; everything about this subject was alien to him.
There he was sitting alone in this cheap hotel with the only light being from the bathroom and the cars driving by. Walt was outside somewhere; it was clear that he was mad at Henry right now, and he had every right to be.
What they were supposed to be doing was camping outside of Wyoming for the first time. What they had told their parents was that it was a treat for Walt’s birthday. But what Henry had wanted to do was sweet talk some girls and let Walt lose his virginity.
Well, that didn’t work out at all.
One, Henry did not tell Walt anything, until they were at the hotel.
Two, Walt refused to go to the club, the stubborn bull.
Three, Henry decided to go alone.
Four, Walt ended up coming, only because he did not want Henry hanging around in a place that neither of them knew.
Five, Henry had befriended a young guy about their age. The guy had ended up following him into the bathroom and kissing him up against a wall.
Six, Walt had come charging in, separating them and taking Henry back to the hotel.
“Walt, calm down.” Henry had slurred, as Walt let go of him, once they were back inside of the room.
“Henry, you are intoxicated. You did not even hear what that kid said about you before he followed you into the bathroom.” Walt snarled.
“Was it racist?” Henry asked, falling on the bed.
“He was saying that he was going to cross another kink off his list.” Walt was going off on one of his moods again. “That bastard goes after people for their ethnicity. Not because he respects them, but because the hunter wanted to put the buck up on the wall as a trophy.”
“So I am a trophy—poor defenceless little Indian boy. I need a big white cowboy like yourself to provide me with guns and beans to save myself. Do not forget to put me in your cage.” Henry spat out venom in the heat of the moment.
“Oh for Pete sake Henry.” Walt through back at him. “You are an idiot right now.” He gritted his teeth and left the room.
“Yeah leave, I need all the room that I can get,” Henry muttered before passing out.
Henry got up after nodding off; everything was starting to return to him and damn, he felt like an idiot alright. He was beginning to wallow in thoughts of how did he think about the kiss? How did he feel about this whole situation? The kiss had not been wrong. But the kid was unpleasant. There had been a small amount of enjoyment in seeing Walt come charging in to take the asshole out. What did that all meant. After looking around the room, only to find that Walt had not been back since he had left.
Henry got up and went outside to find him. It was snowing outside; it did not feel cold yet. But it did not stop Henry from feeling bad about making Walt leave, even if he decided to go. He looked around for the truck only to see it on the other side of the car park. There Henry found Walt sitting on the hood of the truck enjoying the snow with a coffee in his hand.
“Walt, get back inside,” Henry called out, walking towards the younger man.
“I thought that I was not allowed on the reservation.”
“Oh, would you not. I am sorry, Walt,” Henry said, “You are the only white cowboy that I want around me.” They started to walk back to the room, where Henry had left the door open.
“Lucky me.” Walt smiled a little.
“Lucky you,” Henry replied and held the door open for Walt. “Did you find a diner to hide in, while I was out?”
“I’ve only been gone for an hour.” Walt let a nervous laugh escape.
“I see that you brought nothing for me.” Henry stood there, shaking his head.
“Oh, no. I brought you something.” Walt said as he reached into his pocket and held out his hand to show the coffee beans inside the palm of his hand.
“Walter Longmire. I can not believe you.” Henry punched the young man in the arm hard.
“Ow. shit, here this is your coffee.” He said, holding out the coffee as he tried to stop Henry from hitting him again. “I drank mine in the truck.”
“You know if you had done that to another Indian you would have been dead by now,” Henry replied patting Walt’s sore arm.
“So did you like it or what?” Walt muttered and turned away. He was trying to find something, anything to keep him from looking at Henry.
“What?” Henry said, playing dumb. If Walt was going to bring this up, he was going to have to use his words to get anything out of Henry.
“That…that. You know.” Walt was stumbling to find what he wanted to say.
“I know. But use your words, Walt.” Henry had such a satisfying smirk on his face.
“Ass.” Walt shoved him away.
“Come on now. Walt,” Henry sighed squeezing his fists into balls. Why was it always so hard for Walt to say what he wanted too.
“Fine. Did you like that kiss?” He said as he had to face the facts.
“Yes and no.”
“What does that mean,” Walt whispered.
“It means I liked the kiss, but not the person,” he said. “I wanted someone else to do it.”
“Oh,” Walt said quietly.
“Oh, so your not going to ask me anything else?” He questioned Walt.
“It is not my place to ask anymore.” He sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead.
“Not your place, but to question me about whether I liked it or not is?” Henry snapped in a harsh tone, anger was rising, but he fought it back and swallowed it down.
“Ok, tell me everything about it, like you carry on about everyone you sleep with.” Walt took a deep breath and waited for Henry to go bragging about it.
“Oh. Walt, you are not.” Henry said, taking a step back from Walt with his hand over his mouth. “You are.”
“I am what,” he said, but Henry shook his head, hiding his smile, as Walt closed in on him. “What are you going on about now.” He now had Henry near the wall by the bathroom door.
Henry released his hands from his mouth and wrapped his arms around Walt’s broad shoulders, pulling him in closer, their lips were only a fraction apart. “I have not had any other men, and I do not want anyone, but my jealous cowboy.” Henry softly kissed him.
Walt shyly smiled. “I guess my birthday is not going to be that bad, after all.” Henry started to guide him back toward the bed.
“When have you ever had a bad time with me?” he whispered as their lips met again, soft at first but growing more insistent.
“Do you want me to count?” Walt chuckled softly; then, Henry shoved him hard down onto the bed.
“Come on, you always enjoy being around me and imagine how boring your life would be.” Henry sarcastically jabbed at him. They lay together, enjoying the slow and tender moment. Knowing that they had all the time in the world, it was the holidays after all.