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In all his life, Herbert has never had to endure so many mosquito bites.
They ran out of bug spray a week ago, and even before then, Dan had kept complaining that Herbert was “using way too much” and “spraying that stuff way too close to his face”. Their next encampment should be more readily stocked with repellant. But that’s not much of a comfort as they trudge through the suffocating jungle. The sun beats down on them through cracks in the thick canopy. He’s almost beginning to regret all the times he’d turned up his nose at prioritizing physical fitness over mental fitness. Almost.
The foliage has become too thick to drive a cavalcade of Jeeps through, so they’re hoofing it to camp on foot. There’d been some fuss initially about making sure the invaluable medical professionals were protected in the middle of the group.
They’d fallen behind quickly enough- the soldiers seemed to give the two of them a wide berth, as if just being near them would bring them bad luck or certain doom. At least Dan got along with them, even with his rudimentary Spanish skills.
As Herbert swats at another bug buzzing around his neck, he sees Dan slow down ahead of him. He catches up with the taller man’s flagging stride soon enough.
Unlike Herbert, Dan has seen fit to shed his jacket and tie it around his waist in an effort to beat the heat. He’s left in his tank, tucked into his pants, and the backpack slung over his bare shoulders. Dan has put on considerable muscle since they arrived in Peru, no longer on the leaner side of things. If anyone saw him, they would likely assume he was one of the soldiers, save for his refusal to carry a gun of any sort.
“How’re you holding up?” Dan asks once Herbert is at his side. His sweaty hair is pushed back out of his face. Herbert has offered to cut it once or twice, but either he doesn’t mind letting it grow out, or doesn’t trust Herbert near his face with a pair of scissors.
“Just... fine…” Herbert attempts to not seem out of breath, but the perspiration stains on his shirt may give him away. He’s starting to wish that he hadn't insisted on carrying his own bags. Dan is obviously eyeing them, waiting for Herbert to relent and let someone else handle his precious equipment.
“If you say so…” Comes the incredulous reply. No, Dan wouldn’t use a big word like that. Skeptical, maybe. Doubtful. He adjusts his own bag, slung over his shoulder, and continues, “Well, we shouldn’t be walking for much longer. Captain Aguilar said the encampment is just ahead.”
“Finally,” Herbert grumbles. His mouth is miserably dry, despite the humidity. He attempts to retrieve his now-warm bottle of water from the backpack without dropping everything. It’s a juggling act, a bit like a dog chasing its tail.
“Here, I’ve got it.” Dan grabs the bottle and holds it out to him. When he struggles for a moment to free his hands enough to take it, Dan pulls it back. “Wait, I’ll get the cap off-”
“Are you planning on holding it for me while I drink, too?” he huffs. Letting one of the bags slide further down his arm, he snatches the bottle from Dan. “I think I can manage.” He starts twisting the cap off.
“Hey, I’m just trying to help,” Dan says, sighing like someone who should've known better. He glances at Herbert out of the corner of his eye for a moment, then turns his gaze back to the ‘path’ ahead.
Herbert takes a long drink and swats at another mosquito.
+
The new encampment is much larger than the mobile units they’d been stationed at previously. There’s an actual mess tent, (not that Herbert spent much time concerned about the rations), a set of showers, and a river running beside the camp. The field hospital tent has enough room to set up their cots instead of worrying about having to rush across camp in the middle of the night. Herbert prefers having everything in one place.
He sits on his cot, leafing through the contents of his satchel. His trusty old suitcase had been replaced by this, canvas and unassuming. All his notes are in here, although he keeps duplicates in a select few places. They’re always on his person, unless it’s going to get in the way. And he lets Dan watch it, reluctantly.
It’s not that he doesn’t trust Dan, but there’s still a certain amount of apprehension. Letting the culmination of his work out of his sight is difficult, even for a brief interlude to wash himself in a river or change into (relatively) clean clothes.
Dan rests back on his own cot, close enough to Herbert’s that he could easily reach over and touch him, and stretches his arms over his head. Once they arrived, he’d done most of the heavy lifting. Normally, Herbert would be unable to sit still, but after five hours walking through the thick of the jungle, he’s forced to take a break. For once. It’s not much of a break, but at the very least he has to allow his body to recover.
However, Herbert can’t resist chiding, “Don’t get too comfortable lazing around, Dan, we’re still in a warzone.”
“Uh-huh,” Dan replies, clearly not paying attention.
“Are you listening?”
“Yep.” He says, flipping another page of the Spanish-language comic book he’s reading. One of the soldiers lent it to him to pass the time and as a way to practice his Spanish. At least it isn’t a complete waste of time, in that regard. Those large brown eyes of his flick over to look at Herbert.
Herbert scoffs, “Well, if you’re still just sitting here reading a comic book when we start getting shot at-”
Dan rolls his eyes. “Herbert, when we start getting shot at, I’ll be the one trying to actually save lives, so don’t worry about what I’m doing now.”
Herbert bristles. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” When he flips through the comic again, he adds, “Did you even read that page?”
“Uh-huh,” Dan repeats, scratching at the stubble on his cheek. “Is there anything you actually need me to do, or is it that important to you that I don’t get a break?”
“I’m sure you could find some way to make yourself useful…”
“Unpacking everything while you supervised wasn’t useful enough?” Dan sits up and sets aside the comic. With a certain amount of distaste, he gestures to a repurposed dog crate.“The only thing you took care of was that- that lizard!” The creature inside whips its tail back and forth, banging against the metal.
“ I carried everything here-”
“I offered to help!”
“... And besides, I wasn’t going to trust any of the soldiers to handle our equipment!” Herbert shoots back, pursing his lips. “At least I know you won’t break anything. We’re having a hard enough time as is acquiring the necessary components to formulate our reagent out here. It would be twice as difficult if we didn’t have the instruments needed to actually make it, either.”
“You…” After a beat, Dan sighs. “Okay. I think the heat is getting to me. I shouldn’t snap, you’re… right. Sorry. I’m just tired.” He looks at him expectantly.
“... I’m not going to apologize for expecting the both of us to be alert, Dan.”
“Right.” He rolls his eyes again, but his face relaxes from the frustration it had slipped into. “Just let me carry some of it next time, alright? I thought you were gonna pass out.”
“If I felt I was suffering from heatstroke, I would tell you.”
Dan gives him another doubtful glance.
Working himself to exhaustion wouldn’t be a problem, or even a possibility, if chemical resources weren’t so hard to come by. Herbert can’t reasonably justify setting aside a portion of the reagent to weaken for himself. Even if he could, it almost wouldn’t be worth that disappointed look Dan gives him. There hasn’t been much privacy for the past few months, so it’s unlikely that Dan wouldn’t know immidiately if he were ‘self-medicating’ again, as he puts it.
Even just thinking about how long it’s been since he really felt like he was working at his full capacity causes his leg to bounce anxiously. He frowns and presses his hand down against it, forcing it to stop. Dan doesn’t seem to notice the sudden jitters, but he does react when Herbert begins tugging off his jacket.
“Hey, did you not put on sunscreen?” Dan reaches over the short distance and brushes his fingers against the exposed red skin of Herbert’s neck. Herbert jumps and Dan pulls his hand back. “Sorry- Jesus, Herbert, that looks really bad.”
“I didn’t expect to be walking to camp, so I didn’t put it on.” Turning his head at an awkward angle, he can see red, peeling skin. It covers the back of his neck, creeps across his shoulders and upper back. The sting of it is starting to set in. He’d thought his jacket would protect him from the surprisingly strong sunlight breaking through the leaves, but evidently it didn’t. It probably didn’t help that he’d been scratching at his neck all day… “It’s not that bad, you’re overreacting.”
Dan moves from his own cot to Herbert’s before he can protest. “Turn around, let me see it.”
For once, Herbert doesn’t argue. If it bothered him that much, he could wear Dan down until he gave up. But it’s such a small thing, it just isn’t worth Dan looking at him like a kicked puppy for the rest of the day. “Fine. But it’s really not bothering me.”
“... Really?” The disbelief is obvious.
“Yes, really, I have a stronger constitution than-”
“No, I mean, you’re not gonna fight me on this? Like...” ‘Like you do for every little thing’ is the unspoken addition to the sentence, if Herbert had to guess.
“If you’re going to make such a big deal out of this, then forget it,” Herbert scoffs. And Dan calls him dramatic.
“No, no, let me help,” Dan quickly says.
Herbert turns his back to Dan and puts his hands on his knees, staring at the canvas wall of the tent. There’s a brief hesitation on Dan’s part. With a creak from the cot as he leans in, fingers brush gingerly against Herbert’s skin. He tries not to tense up. Pulling down the collar of his shirt, Dan examines the damage. The scratch of a tag against the sunburn makes him wince, but it could be worse.
“You’ve got a lot of bug bites, too,” Dan says quietly. He traces along Herbert's back, and holds his hand out where Herbert can see a smudge of red across his fingers. “A couple are bleeding- you really shouldn’t scratch at them, they’ll get infected if you keep picking at them.”
“I had no idea,” Herbert deadpans.
“Hang on.”
The cot creaks as Dan gets up and Herbert readjusts his shirt. When he glances over his shoulder, Dan is already back, holding two white tubes.
“Dan, really-”
“Okay, I’ve got aloe vera lotion and a hydrocortisone cream.” The cot produces another creak of protest as he sits down- it wasn’t meant for two people. “Can you take off your shirt?”
“No.”
Dan groans, “Herbert, c’mon- I’m just trying to help.”
Herbert crosses his arms. “Are you really going to bug me about this?”
“Well, I’ve got nothing else to do, right? Didn’t you tell me to make myself useful?” Oh, and doesn’t that just sound so self-satisfied? Using his own words against him… even with the awareness that Dan is genuine in his intent, it’s frustrating that he… knows that’s what works. But let him have that small victory, if he needs it so badly.
Herbert purses his lips and hesitates. This would be easier if he were wearing a tank, like Dan. That’s another thing about this heat- it makes layers impractical and borderline dangerous. He’d like to have as many barriers between him and the world as possible. Out here, ‘as possible’ amounts to a jacket and a t-shirt. The jacket’s already gone.
But, with a sigh, he acquiesces. Only because Dan has a point about infection. Who knows what kind of diseases one could encounter in the jungle? It’s in his best interest to take precautions.
Back stiff and body turned stubbornly away from Dan, Herbert pulls his shirt up over his head. It clings to his skin, soaked with sweat. His glasses nearly come off with it. How many times has he seen Dan whip off his shirt without a second thought, and yet he feels as though he needs to take a deep breath before doing so? He doesn’t like being stared at.
He’s not ashamed of his body. That isn’t the right word. It’s too melodramatic. Maybe there had been a time where he’d compared his physicality to other men with envy and discomfiture, but that had mostly died when he graduated high school. It was juvenile. There’s some degree of self-consciousness- he’s more ashamed of that than of his body.
But he’s gotten close enough to the self in his mind’s eye that he can proudly stand beside other men without feeling like he doesn’t measure up. He has no need to- he knows he could best any of them when it comes to matters of the mind. Of what importance is his appearance?
It’s a bit different with Dan. Unfortunately, he cares about how the man sees him.. The warm air hits his bare skin, and he crosses his arms over his chest again. No need to expose himself to Dan any more than necessary. There are certain obvious discrepancies in his appearance, especially now.
As the access to supplies has dwindled, so have Herbert’s personal stores. Testosterone isn’t considered a medical necessity in war. Hospitals stock it, though mostly for the vanity of older men and not for anyone who may have a legitimate reason to take it. But out here, Herbert has to rely solely on what he brought, and rationing it out is a pain.
Thankfully, there haven’t been any drastic changes since he was forced to lower his dosage. He’s noted a few that only he would pick up on- a redistribution of fat softening his body, a nagging emotional sensitivity, just small things here and there. But his estrogen levels were already much lower than they would have been had he not elected to get rid of his useless internal reproductive organs. Having a hysterectomy and a double mastectomy in one fell swoop had put him fully out of commission for a time, but it’s something he wouldn’t have been able to accomplish in America.
And if Dan has noticed anything, he hasn’t said. Herbert would prefer it stays that way.
He’s startled out of his thoughts by a warm hand on his shoulder. The hand doesn’t leave when he jumps this time. Dan laughs, “You seem kinda lost in thought.”
“I don’t get lost in thought, Dan.”
“Uh-huh. Well, this should help with the sunburn.” He can practically hear him rolling his eyes. One of the tubes clicks open. Preempting a comment from Herbert, Dan adds, “And don’t tell me you can do it yourself- you can’t reach all of it.”
Dan is close enough that the warmth isn’t just coming from his hand- his chest is mere inches from Herbert’s skin, and one of his legs brushes his lower back. Herbert worries that a new redness, not caused by the sun, is beginning to creep up his neck, onto his face and ears. Yes, it’s different with Dan. It’s been a long time since Herbert cared so deeply about how someone else saw him. Or cared about someone being so close, besides wishing they would step back.
Without warning, Dan begins applying the lotion. Herbert shivers at the cold gel suddenly being smeared across his back. The strong, clean smell of aloe hangs in the air. It’s immediately soothing to his dry skin, and the shiver turns into an involuntary sigh. The hand pauses.
“See, that’s not so bad, is it?” Dan asks with a hint of amusement.
“I’ll just do it myself if you’re going to be condescending.”
Dan doesn’t respond. Good. He spreads his hand, rubbing the lotion up the back of Herbert’s neck. When Herbert winces from the pressure on the burns, Dan eases up. “Sorry. At least you’ll remember to put on sunscreen next time, right?”
Herbert huffs in annoyance and crosses his arms tighter.
A laugh from Dan, causing his breath to ghost across Herbert’s skin. The lotion isn’t as cold anymore, and he seems focused on covering every inch of the burn. Rubbing circles with his thumbs, careful not to press too hard on the already scratched-open bug bites. His hands are broad and warm. Compared to Herbert’s smaller, out of shape frame, Dan is much stronger. Their months in Peru have been kind to him in this regard, no matter how much he complains about the more physical side of the labor.
Admittedly, Herbert hates putting on lotion, sunscreen, or anything else oily. The texture of it- the friction of skin on skin, the grease of it on his hands - makes his flesh crawl. So having someone else do it for him isn’t as bothersome as it might have been otherwise.
“Hey, you’re kinda tense.” In an overly familiar gesture, Dan squeezes his shoulder.
He does that a lot. Once Herbert had stopped keeping mostly to himself, and Dan became involved in the work, he’d taken that as an invitation to treat Herbert the same way he treats his other friends. Always with those friendly nudges and hands on his arm when he wants to get his attention. He’s very… touchy. Again, he has become a rare exception to most of Herbert’s rules. While he does wish Dan would give him some warning first, his touch doesn’t make him recoil the way another’s might.
Herbert can’t say he hasn’t been unnecessarily touchy himself, but it’s still strange.
“No more than usual,” he responds. “We’re in a tense line of work.”
Dan hums in agreement.
It’s strangely intimate, being tended to like this. This may be the closest the two of them have ever been. It’d be ridiculous to think that Dan sees it that way, but that doesn’t stop Herbert from picturing how it might look to an outside observer. Herbert sitting cross legged on his cot, shirtless, and Dan behind him as he rubs his shoulders. Someone might see this familiarity and think they were… something more than what they currently are.
This gives him pause. Well, would he be… alright with that? With someone looking at the two of them and assuming they were lovers? The idea of them being attached in this way, even only in someone else’s mind… aside from the obvious danger of it, it does feel right. Unfamiliar, but right. He wouldn’t object to it. Dan is an attractive man, after all, and he’s certainly become an important part of Herbert’s life…
His face flushes. Why would he be thinking this if he didn’t already… have those sort of feelings for Dan, to some degree? Certainly thoughts like this don’t just spring out of an innocent curiosity. He’s been attracted to Dan before, yes, to other men as well… though, not quite like this. Not with a further attachment, more than a passing interest.
He’d told himself when he first moved in with Dan that he wouldn’t allow the more inconvenient parts of him- that being his more base urges and human sexuality- to influence him. Had it already, though? Dan had been the logical choice of roommate and potential partner, but had something else informed the decision without his conscious knowledge?
Herbert is hesitant to lean back into Dan’s touch, if only because doing so would mean admitting to himself that he wants that. The nebulous ‘something more’. He can examine that later. Not now, with Dan so close.
The tent is quiet. Beyond the canvas walls, soldiers mill about, moving weapons and joking amongst themselves, the sounds muffled. Birds and insects chirp. Nearby, the river cuts through the jungle, close enough that the rushing of its waters can be heard. Herbert guesses that Dan will drag him to the bank come next morning, insisting that the two of them wash up. That’s actually a preferable option to using the ‘showers’ provided in this larger, permanent encampment.
Better to deal with snakes than be crowded into a tiny tent with at least 10 other men all jostling each other to get into the showers before the hot water runs out.
“Hey, Herbert-” Dan clears his throat and his hands leave Herbert’s back. “Kind of a weird question, but… do you think we’re helping people?”
“Of course,” Herbert answers without pause. “Despite the bumps in the road, our work is invaluable to mankind. What we’re doing now will-”
“No, I mean- here. In Peru. Getting mixed up in someone else’s war.” Dan sighs, and Herbert hears the cot creak again as he shifts his weight.
“We’re not the ones fighting.”
“Well, we’re patching them up. Isn’t that the same thing?”
“I don’t think so.” Herbert looks over his shoulder. Behind him, Dan is worrying his lip between his teeth. “And I have no interest in debating the morality of war, Dan. You can save that for the philosophy students back home.”
“Shit, that’s not what I’m talking about.” Dan shakes his head, Strands of hair stick to his forehead with sweat. Herbert watches the movement of his mouth. There’s a split in his bottom lip now. “I mean… I guess, are we doing good? Not them…”
He pauses. It sounds like Dan just wants reassurance. If even Herbert can read him that easily, how many people have just been telling Dan whatever he wants to hear? “... I would say saving lives is a good thing. Regardless of who they are. Is that a sufficient answer?”
Dan cocks his head. That little idiosyncrasy of his has always reminded Herbert of a dog. “Are you saying that because it’s true, or because you think it’s what I want you to say?”
“Would you really like me to answer that?” Herbert pushes up his glasses.
“Yeah, okay, I get the picture.” Dan puts his hands up in surrender, then wipes excess lotion off on his pants. “Thanks anyways.”
Herbert nods and turns back around. He’s never really thought about it. What’s important is that the research they can conduct in this environment will bring them closer to perfecting the reagent. Whatever’s happening around them is inconsequential to that. All the bodies start to… blend together. If they can be saved, then that’s good. If not, then that’s another point of data. Also good.
To be honest, he’s not even sure who they’re fighting. Politics never interested him.
“Okay, let’s get something on those bug bites.” Dan shifts closer on the cot, untwisting the cap off the tube of hydrocortisone.
“I’m not a patient. I can manage this fine on my own.” Herbert twists around again, only partially to keep his back to Dan, and tries to grab the hydrocortisone. “Dan-”
With a roll of his eyes, Dan just leans back and holds it out of his reach. “No way. If I don’t do it, you’ll conveniently ‘forget’.” After a brief stare between the two of them, Herbert lets his arm drop. This is one of those things it will be difficult to fight Dan on. When he retracts the arm, Dan starts squeezing the ointment out into his palm. “If you just took care of yourself, I wouldn’t have to do it for you.”
Herbert gives him an indignant look. “I’m a grown man-”
Dan interrupts, “When was the last time you ate?” He raises an eyebrow at Herbert.
“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer,” he sniffs. Really, the babying is too much. That’s yet another consequence of their continued partnership- Dan apparently sees Herbert’s well-being as his responsibility.
“Right.” There’s that amused tone again. It’s more than that, though. It has a tiredness behind it.
Herbert adds, “Besides, I didn’t ask you to take care of me.”
“You don’t have to.” Dan begins gingerly applying the hydrocortisone to one of the bug bites. It smells far less pleasant than the lotion, but its intensely medical scent is also more appropriate for the setting. “I mean, you might be a pain in the ass-”
“Excuse me-?” Herbert’s eyes go wide as he whips his head around to look at Dan.
“- But that doesn’t mean I’m just gonna sit around and let you… pass out from sleep deprivation, or starve yourself, or something.” When the two of them make eye contact, Dan shrugs and gives him a smile that Herbert can’t quite decipher. “I’d be a pretty bad roommate if I did.”
“Oh, don’t smile at me like that, like you didn’t just call me a… a pain in the ass- ” He jabs a finger in Dan’s face. “You know, you have plenty of annoying habits yourself!”
“I’m sure I do. Can you turn around again?” Dan makes a circular motion with his finger.
“For one, you shed hair everywhere ,” Herbert starts as he begrudgingly turns around. “You’d better think about cutting your hair once we’re back in the states, or you’re going to clog the shower drain. Your shoes were always in front of the door. And another thing- you never finish drinks. Leaving half-finished soda cans and water bottles all over the house…”
“I’m pretty sure I remember a couple cans in your room,” Dan laughs as he moves on to another bug bite.
“Those were empty. And that was my room , not the kitchen, or the living room!”
“It’s not like you were ever anywhere else but the basement.”
“Well, I wasn’t the one having company over,” Herbert retorts.
Dan goes quiet at that. His hand slows for a minute, then draws away. It occurs to Herbert just how sore he is. It’s been a long day, and his body is aching. He hadn’t noticed it while Dan was rubbing his back. The absence of his hands is unnerving. How had he gotten used to that so quickly?
The cot groans as Dan stands up and stretches. Herbert watches the movement of his arms as he does so, the muscles under his skin. They must be just as sore as his. Dan groans as he reaches his arms high above his head, then lets them fall. He yawns, “I think I’m done. Feel better?”
Herbert quickly pulls his shirt back on. The already sweaty fabric clings to his now-sticky back, but at least it doesn't itch anymore. “Yes. I suppose.”
For a moment, Dan just stands there with one eyebrow raised, this expectant look on his face. Mentally, Herbert files through a list of social cues to figure out what he wants. It couldn’t be thanks, Herbert didn’t ask him to do this. He decides that Dan must still be offended from their earlier argument.
“... I hope you didn’t take what I said earlier the wrong way,” Herbert says, watching Dan’s face for any signs that he’s on the right track. “I don’t think you’re lazy, Dan. You’re a very hard worker.”
Dan blinks in surprise. “Uh… I accept your apology?”
“I didn’t apologize.”
“Yeah. I know.”