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It had been a long night in the Hall of Miniatures. A group of Romans and a few cowboys had gone missing after being sent to the vending machines across the hall, endeavoring for some potato chips. The West and Rome had both been in an anxious state all night, waiting for their men to come back.
It was a shame, too—Jedediah and Octavius had put that evening aside to do some adventuring of their own. Larry had left the fully charged remote-control car tucked under the bench so the two of them could have a night out, but just as they’d seen each other on the ledges of their respective dioramas, a distressed Roman solider had came into the room yelling for help. The rest of the night had been a whirlwind of organizing rescue teams and keeping their people calm as they tried to figure out how to retrieve their men from wherever the Civil War mannequins had brought them.
By the time the group had managed to stumble their way home, it was only an hour until sunrise. Octavius greeted his men, plastering on a smile as they praised their gods for their safe return. In the celebration, he quietly slipped away, needing to take a moment for himself. He had so been looking forward to a night out with his friend—and he desperately needed the break. Jedediah inspired a fun and carefree spirit that Octavius hadn’t experienced on his own since… well, he couldn’t remember when.
Octavius lowered himself down the ladder to the floor, waving off any questions about where he was going. He could hear a party being held in the West, which meant that the Roman would likely be on his own for the rest of the night.
He trekked across the floor and over to the bench. He walked past the neglected car and through to a secluded, dark corner—his only refuge from the ruckus. He pulled his helmet off and shook out his hair, loosening his chest armor before sitting down. He could almost tune out the faint but lively jigs coming from the West, and the calmer yet beautiful music coming from his home. He sighed and rested back against the wall and lied to himself, saying that what he wanted in that moment was to be alone.
———
Jed was getting sick of the party. He was hoping to be flying through the halls with his best friend by his side, enjoying the night in their own way instead of being tossed up in the middle of a shindig. He’d been dragged into a few dances, only managing to escape when he glimpsed Octavius walking out towards the bench. He grinned, thinking that he’d been itching for a ride just as much as Jed had.
He brushed off his friend’s heckles as he climbed down the ladder, jogging after his Roman friend. He’d long since disappeared under the bench, but Jedediah didn’t pay that any mind. He reckoned they still had time to run around with Rexy if they hurried.
But, when he stopped at the car, Octavius was nowhere to be found. “Octy? Where are you?” He ventured deeper under the bench, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of his friend. Not long after, his eyes caught the unmistakable red plume of the Roman helmet poking out from behind a corner.
Jed didn’t know what he was expecting to find, but it sure as hell wasn’t Octavius half-asleep, curled up in the corner with his armor laid beside him. The cowboy couldn’t recall a time he had seen the Roman’s hair. He’d never noticed the touch of gray at the temples, nor the curl it had as it fell over his face.
His footsteps must’ve given him away as he came closer. Octavius’ eyes shot open, and he immediately scrambled to pull on his armor. “Good lord, Jedediah,” he said, his voice shrill. “You can’t just watch a man as he rests!”
“Woah, there, kemosabe,” Jed said, a half-grin on his face as he held his hands out. “Don’t worry, I just got here.”
The Roman let out an irritated huff, but his expression quickly shifted when Jed sat down next to him, sighing heavily. “It’s a real ruckus out there tonight,” he said, starting to pull his gloves off. “I’m lucky I saw you wanderin’ out here, or I never would’ve been able to escape the dancing, no-siree.”
Jed glanced over to see Octavius staring at his hands. He looked down at his own palms, turning them over to examine them. “What, something wrong with my fingers?”
Octavius huffed, but it was amused. “No, of course not. I just realized I’d never seen them before. Your hands, I mean.”
Jed snorted. “Well, you ain’t missin’ much. I could say the same about your hair. You look good,” he said, reaching over to ruffle it up. Octavius swatted his hands away, scowling, and Jed couldn’t help but laugh. The space between them seemed to get a bit warmer, but that wasn’t so unusual anymore.
They sat together in a comfortable silence through Larry’s half an hour warning, their shoulders pressed together in the near darkness. Jed could’ve sworn he’d felt Octavius’ pinky brush against his own a few times, but whenever he’d look over, the general was lost in thought.
The moment was broken by Larry’s fifteen minute warning until sunrise playing over the intercom. Jedediah hauled himself up, sticking his gloves under his arm and grabbing Octavius’ helmet. “Alright, pretty boy, up and at ‘em.” He turned to him and reached out his hand. They stared at each other for a long moment before Octavius reached out, slotting his warm palm against Jedediah’s as he was pulled up.
The cowboy’s face was ablaze. Eager to break the tension, he stuck the general’s helmet over his head, hiding his curls again. He chuckled, assuming the moment was over, but Octavius had different ideas.
He reached out and snatched Jedediah’s gloves from under his arm. “Let me,” he said, no hint of insincerity in his voice.
Jed barely comprehended what was happening as Octavius’ hand circled around his wrist, holding their hands up. A dark blush traveled up his neck as the Roman pulled the worn leather gloves over his fingers, taking plenty of time to make sure they were on right. “Octy, what are you—“
“Hush,” Octavius told him, and so he did. He watched as he painstakingly pulled the other glove on, even tucking his cuffs underneath. Jedediah’s skin felt cold as his hands fell away, but he felt like he was on fire all at the same time.
Octavius barely seemed bothered as he adjusted his helmet, a slight smirk on his face as he saw how flustered the cowboy was. “Thank you for letting me return the favor. Good night, Jedediah.”
Jed stood in a stunned silence, only breaking out of his trance when Larry’s voice played over the intercom again, telling him he had ten minutes to get home and into position. “What in the goddamn hell…” he muttered to himself as he started the trek home. His hands felt warm underneath his gloves, more so than usual—maybe he’d have to start taking them off more.