Chapter Text
The cowboy. The leader of the West. The Gunslinger. The explorer. That’s what Jedediah is. He’s all of those things, mixed into 3-inch tall plastic. He’s not his own man, and he knows that—but he can try to be. He doesn’t have to follow any rules, he can do and say whatever he wants. The night guard isn’t a bad person for once. The pharaoh isn’t as bad as he thought. And, hey, his men are happier now. Therefore, he is too.
But he still didn’t like Octavius. For a while. They were enemies, rivals, opposite forces; one leads the West, a band of ragtag men in bandanas and hats with guns. The other is a pristine ancient Roman general, enjoying the highest of society's offerings, a strict and formal group of men who follow his word without question. Gleaming, shining armor. The true photo of a man who can lead others into battle and not even flinch. He’s professional, and calm, not as rash or bold or sarcastic. And maybe that’s a good thing—maybe the fact he’s nothing like Jedediah is good.
Unless it also wasn’t.
Jedediah hated him for a while too, always throwing comments and picking fights. He’s manly enough to admit that he picked most of them, but Octo-boy also picked some too. With his dumb sword and his dumb toga and dumb brown eyes, he could get anyone to fight him. Jedediah always got a rush from fighting him, it always felt good. Like a fresh breath of air. A rush of energy, of pure magnetic, crackling energy, pulling him further into the fight. It was just a rivalry, right? That meant he could do stuff like this without wondering what it meant. Even if his usually blonde hair would have dried blood on the ends.
Until that turned into a friendship.
And he’s not mad about it—no. No. He likes having friends. He finds friends enjoyable, finds them nice. He can talk to the same person for hours if he wants, and if they’re good enough, he’ll bring ‘em everywhere. To the vending machine, to the Easter Island head, to the bar. Ride around in the car. Introduce them to people. He enjoys friends, he really does, and when Octavius started turning into one… well. He didn’t know what to say. He was confused. Why is he befriending his enemy? This guy had punched him more than he’d admit, he shouldn’t like his jokes.
…Well that was until they became best friends. The cat videos brought them pretty close, too. He loves watching things, especially animals. Jedediah could stare at cat videos for hours if someone let him. Octavius just so happened to like them too, so they grabbed some snacks they could find—Pringles, as Nicky called them—and sat and watched for almost an entire night. Each time they liked one, they talked about it. It brought them closer. So Octavius wasn’t that bad, he found. Not at all.
Each time Octavius would call him over, he’d come running, curious. He wanted to know what his friend was up to after all. It’d usually be, ‘Hey, Jedediah, may you stand here? I need to try out our cannon.’ or, ‘Jedediah, look, look at this video I found!’. Those were good times. He’d always comply. He had no reason not to, really.
And every time Octavius found himself in danger whether big or small, Jedediah was right there with him. With his gun and his dagger (Larry only found it when Jedediah accidentally stabbed him with it), he’d defend his new Roman friend with every last breath he had. He needed to keep Octavius safe because that’s what friends do. They care for their friends and they’re there for them, never letting them fend for themselves, always helping. It’d be worth it in the end, for Octavius’ smile and hugs in return. His thanks. His smile made it all so worth it.
It was just a friendship. That was it. Nothing more, nothing less, and Jedediah wouldn’t have had it any other way. Sure, maybe he enjoyed Octavius’ laugh a bit too much, or didn’t want to stop talking once the conversation flowed, but that was normal friend stuff. You can like your friend enough to want to be around them all the time, can’t you? That’s entirely fine. You can like someone enough that you want to see them smile all the time. Jedediah’s just a very affectionate friend. Very… attentive. He’s not—he never thought more than that. Octavius was his friend, they were friends, that was it. That was all it’d be. And he wouldn’t want to ruin it by saying anything else or trying to have anything. That would be weird, anyway, right? They’re both men. Octavius had wives, and Jedediah, though he never settled, would have if he had time. That was the truth. They were just friends. Just… just friends.
…Until one time.
-
“Please, Jedediah, don’t say such inappropriate things!” Octavius once said through his loud laughter, head thrown back. The gang had decided to play a card game, and Jedediah made an inappropriate joke. Nicky started laughing too, and Larry looked lost. Some others laughed, or smiled, though one or two shook their head fondly. But Octavius fully laughed. A full belly laugh, like he was laughing for the first time in years.
And maybe he was. Octavius usually never laughed or did anything other than smile if he found something funny. If he found you funny, he found you funny.
Jedediah found himself staring longer than usual though. He smiled himself, and chuckled, but gained a lost look in his eyes as he stared at the Roman general who was still laughing loudly. He didn’t know why. He didn’t even notice he’d been staring still.
But that smile made his stomach spin as much as a bull during bull rides.
-
So maybe it was a bit more than just a friendship on Jedediah’s part. Just maybe, but only maybe. He isn’t entirely in love—it’s just a crush. Just some stupid thing he can get over. Besides, like he said; they’re both men and Octavius is likely straight. He’s not going to fall in love with some dirty raggedy cowboy either. Jedediah smells of dirt and smoke most nights, while Octavius smells like rose, cinnamon, and a touch of nature. Not surprising. Jedediah first thought the man would smell like rich grapes and iron when they first met—but apparently, he was pretty wrong. Octavius smelled amazing, as opposed to Jedediah’s less-than-desirable scent.
That’s not even mentioning that Jedediah is practically a dirt magnet. Each time he tries to keep his clothes clean, they get dirty, no matter what. No matter what he does. It all ends the same; dirty clothes, face, hair, guns, hat. And he has to wash all of it, or get one of the women in the West to with the promise of cigarettes.
So no, Octavius definitely wouldn’t like him anyway, and he doesn’t blame the guy. Who would? Jedediah isn’t the most upstanding man and he knows that.
But he can’t focus on that right now. Right now, he—
“Jedediah! I found another cat video! It’s one we haven’t seen yet, come quick!”
That voice cuts into his thoughts like a thousand-degree knife into butter. Smooth, strong. Bold. Soothing to a fault. And Jedediah is none the wiser, so he jumps, scrambling to make sure he doesn’t drop his gun, and pulling his hat further down on his head he begins running in the voice’s direction like a man running to a million dollars. “Comin’!” he shouts back. He’s interested in seeing that cat video, and Octavius. But definitely, totally, mainly the cat video. Totally. 100%.
He runs down the hall a bit more and finds Octavius on top of the desk, computer bright and shiny in his face, a paused cat video on the screen. He uses the latter Larry added—at the price of risking his job, actually—and walks up right behind the other man.
“Is it long?” he asks, to which Octavius looks up at him in awe.
“It’s only ten minutes. Now sit down!” Octavius pats the spot next to him and Jedediah complies without a second thought. Cats, Octavius, comfort, what else does he need right now other than all of this? The others won’t bother them anyway.
As they watch, Jedediah finds himself looking at Octavius more than the video. Each time Octavius smiles, or laughs, or coos at the screen, he can feel his pulse beat harder for a second. Those doe brown eyes gleam with amazement and happiness—it’s so hard not to look. He’s not only a leader in war, on the battlefield, but he’s a damn good charmer without trying. Jedediah doesn’t understand, and he doesn’t want or try to. It’s not something to understand, just something to sense and accept. That, yeah, Octavius has a little grip on his heart. But just a little.
Just a little. Nothing more.
When the video is over, Octavius turns to him, “Jedediah, would you like to see the rain outside? We’ll have to ask one of the others to carry us to the windowsill, however, I know you have said you like rain—so would you like to see it with me?” he says considerately. His hand is so close to Jedediah’s, and if he reaches, he can—
…Did he just ask to watch the windowsill with him?
“I—uh—” Jedediah’s stuttering, why is he stuttering, why is he stuttering, why the fuck is he stuttering come on say something, “Yeah, sure. I’d love to. Can’t be that bad, right?” he puts on a smile and the smile that is returned to him makes his nonexistent heart skip a beat. Octavius gets up and Jedediah follows suit. He’s dragged by his hand down the ladder, and soon they are walking to where they spot Larry. He’s sitting there on his phone, so he probably isn’t busy, and if he is, then oh well. He can spare a few seconds. Jedediah pointedly keeps his eyes away from Octavius’ form, from the way his shoulders looked to his hair that he just wanted to touch, and everything else. It’s none of his business to look.
From the Western diorama, one of the women wiggles her eyebrows. He looks away instantly. Not now, not now. Not ever.
“Larry!” Octavius shouts up, and good ol’ Gigantor looks back, smiling instantly.
“Hey guys, what’s up?” he puts his phone in his pocket.
“Can you lift us to the windowsill? Just to watch the rain, nothing more.” The Roman asks, pointing to the windowsill a few feet away. Larry looks to the window, and then back to the two plastic men. He lifts them up gently—very, very gently—and walks over to the windowsill. The intense sound of rapping rain against the glass gets louder and louder before it is right there, and they are almost touching the white-painted concrete.
“Thanks, Gigantor!” Jedediah says loudly. Larry only smiles, nods, and goes back to his chair to scroll on his phone again. With him gone Jedediah looks over to Octavius and smiles. “Well, you wanna sit or you want ‘ta stand?”
Octavius seems to think for a second, before sitting down cross-legged. “I will sit, and you may stand, if you want.” He says. His eyes watch the clear liquid hit the glass. It’s loud and fairly pressured to them, but to humans, it’s light and nothing but small drops of water. Jedediah decides to stand, instead. He puts his hands in his pockets and watches with the Roman. There’s nothing else they can do tonight, other than ride the car or talk. Right now, though, the rain can suffice.
-
When they go their separate ways for their respective dioramas, Jedediah is smiling, and his pulse is wildly beating. They had so much fun—they spent so much time together! And nothing went wrong! He can’t complain, he really can’t. To complain would be unreasonable, especially since they laughed and talked and—and Jedediah feels amazing. He really does.
But he feels something in his chest, so he blinks, and coughs hard to make sure it leaves. He coughs into his palm; nothing but a small little bundle of petals. Acanthus’? He isn’t really sure. But they’re white and dull purple, he can tell, no matter how small they are. It’s… confusing and very concerning. Why is he coughing flowers?
Exhibits can’t get sick; that’s not to say that they can’t be a little under the weather, but never sick. They don’t have digestive systems or organs. So why does it feel like Jedediah’s chest is stuffed with something that shouldn’t be there? Light, soft, but just enough of it to make it announced.
However, with five minutes till morning, he shrugs it off.
He can figure it out the next night.