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By the time Etho and Joel were red, three facts were known to them:
1. They needed arrows.
2. The recipe to craft arrows called for feathers.
3. Jimmy and Tango had chickens.
A fourth fact, which had gone unsaid but not unconsidered, defined their course of action.
4. Jimmy and Tango were weak and gullible.
Joel looked up at Etho with a grin as they finished laying out the plan. Etho huffed a laugh and returned the stare with eyes that betrayed amusement.
Out of nowhere—or at least out of nowhere to Joel, though not to anyone who had ever lived around Etho for long enough—he kneeled down, grabbed Joel from behind his knees, and picked him up like a sack of potatoes. Much to his delight, Joel yelped. Still, for all his thrashing and writhing, he seemed to be dedicating more effort to try and annoy Etho rather than to actually get away.
The melodramatic struggle continued all the way to the ranch. They were most certainly not going for a stealthy approach.
“Um,” Jimmy eloquently said as he saw them approach. Tango blinked twice, opened his mouth to say something and promptly closed it again.
Joel had somehow managed to get Etho to drop him, though the intentionality of it was dubious at best.
Jimmy and Tango now had a splayed out Joel as their new front yard decor. They continued watching in silent amazement. Neither Etho nor Joel had noticed them, despite them being the ones to drop by their house.
“Should we…?” Tango asked once he finally found his voice. By then, Joel had made Etho trip on his leg and fall.
A second front yard decoration for free. A package deal of sorts.
“No, no,” Jimmy said, eyes fixed on whatever the hell it was that was going on in front of them. “I want to see where this goes.”
Etho was tickling Joel, who squealed. He kicked Etho in an attempt to get away. It worked, except they were now both gripping their stomachs in pain.
“Are you, like, sure?” Tango asked hesitantly.
Jimmy continued staring, blinked once, twice, thrice, then replied. “No, yeah. This is the most exciting thing that’s happened here so far.”
That was enough to convince him. Tango nodded.
Wrestling had ensued as they spoke. Joel seemed to be winning.
They had expected that, of course, but the image of Joel—hilariously tiny next to his soulmate—completely overmatching Etho was good entertainment.
“Oh, he’s destroying him,” Tango commented, wincing in sympathy.
Jimmy just laughed. And that was when Joel grinned down at Etho, absurdly helpless underneath him yet apparently still having the time of his life, and went for the kill. Which was, naturally, way too much PDA.
“Nope,” Jimmy said immediately. “Nope, nope. That’s enough.” He raised his voice, startling the garden decor. “Off my lawn. Now.”
“Is it over?” Tango asked. He was looking away.
“It’s over.”
Joel and Etho dusted off their clothes as they approached the owners of the front yard they had appropriated. They did not have the decency to look ashamed. They looked, in fact, fairly amused.
“Tango, my friend!” Etho said. His tone was unnecessarily cheerful. Tango looked like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow his whole; this did not look promising for them.
He cleared his throat awkwardly, which just made Joel’s grin widen.
“Etho, hello,” Tango said before an arm was unexpectedly wrapped around his shoulder, turning him around and taking him inside the ranch. He didn’t get much of a say as Etho took him inside his own home.
“Um,” Jimmy said.
“‘Um’ indeed,” Joel mocked.
They stood in silence for about a minute, just staring at the door through which both their soulmates had disappeared. The main difference between them was that Joel was enjoying himself immensely, while Jimmy was trying his hardest to process what the hell was happening.
“You–”
Joel nodded solemnly, smile just the tiniest bit sardonic. “Me.”
“And Etho–”
“Me and Etho.”
Jimmy turned to look at Joel, mind finally catching up.
“What the hell?”
Joel had the audacity to throw back his head and laugh. When he returned Jimmy’s look, he did so with bright, amused eyes.
“Me and Etho.”
“What are you planning?”
The deflection was easy enough. Joel shrugged nonchalantly and looked away as he replied, “Not much. You just have to trust Tango.”
Jimmy knew he was being tricked. He knew it. Still, he remained in place. Joel had that effect on people.
He coughed awkwardly, silence enveloping them once again.
“So. Uh. You and Etho?”
“We’ve been over this, Jimmy,” Joel said. He crossed his arms and failed to hold back his grin.
“I didn’t know you two were… Uh…” His mouth fell shut.
“Were what?”
“You know,” Jimmy said. “A thing.”
Joel raised a perfectly trimmed eyebrow his way. “He’s my soulmate.”
Jimmy fiddled with the sleeve of Tango’s jacket. Which he had definitely not stolen, of course. His patience seemed to be running out, annoyance beating instinct, but perhaps he valued his soulmate’s life too much to do something stupid when he was left alone for five minutes. Or maybe that was just what he chanted inside his head like a mantra to retain any shred of calmness he could.
“I know that, Joel,” Jimmy said. He was calm. Very calm, clearly. “But soulmates aren’t all romantic, you know?”
Joel seemed to actually choke at that. He looked at Jimmy, eyes just a millimeter too wide, and replied with a fervor and certainty that had not been present just a second earlier, “We aren’t romantic soulmates. Jeez.”
Jimmy stared at him blankly. After all, he had just watched Joel shove his tongue down Etho’s throat in his front yard.
“Okay,” Jimmy said. “Then what is it?” He phrased it as a question but his tone was too flat for that.
Joel looked at the ranch as Etho and Tango resurfaced. Etho discreetly (very visibly) showed Joel the eggs he had bartered for (stolen). He seemed so thoroughly amused that one could almost miss Tango’s traumatized expression. Almost, because his hair was releasing a certainly unhealthy amount of smoke.
“What is it?” Joel repeated and smiled. “It's fun.”