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Horseshoe overlook at night was horrible. The crickets didn’t have a clue on how to shut up, nor did the owls, and it was cold, especially when night would hit.
John tried to get to sleep, but nothing would work. He just kept tossing and turning — a repetitive cycle. It went like that for a while, then after around ten minutes of trying, he finally gave up and resorted to the only other solution he could think of.
Sometimes he just sat by the fire, trying to take his mind off things and get a break. The warmth made him sleepy, for some reason.
He opened the flaps of his tent, then noticed a dim glow coming from Arthur’s tent — a lantern on his table. And there he found Arthur, sitting on his bed with his journal in hand. He did know how much of a night owl Arthur was, and how some nights Arthur would be up as late as two in the morning.
Of course, Arthur and his goddamn journal. John wasn’t surprised when he noticed Arthur had gotten another one after finishing his last. With the previous one, Arthur had it for years, and the pages were damn near falling out. It amazed John every time Arthur had it out, and how he still managed to write in it. But he carried it around like it was his child or something, never letting it leave his sight even for a second. A few times John had tried to see what he did in there, and what was so special about the words in it — or the drawings.
“What are you writin’?” John walked up behind him, noticing the pencil in his hand.
“Things.” Arthur acknowledged him, though not moving his eyes up from the book.
He looked over at what he was doing, and was shocked by how good the drawing looked. It was of the camp, John could immediately tell. “How the hell did you do that?”
Arthur smiled a bit, flattered by John’s compliment. “Ain’t that hard, just a sketch,”
“I can barely draw a tree...” John mumbled as he sat down next to Arthur. He always thought it was crazy how people could copy things just by looking at them.
“Don't gotta be dramatic y’know,” Arthur put a hand on his shoulder. “Sure you can.” Arthur said again, his voice becoming softer.
“I'm dead serious! I’ll prove it to you." John took the book and pencil out of his hand. Arthur was about to take it back off him when John proceeded to draw what he assumed was a tree. Arthur thought he was joking, until John just got frustrated trying to mimic one of Arthur's trees, continuing to try before he gave up.
“Well… I can tell what it is.” It seemed nice to Arthur that John admired his work and tried to do it as well.
John rolled his eyes. He gave it a shot a few times, drawing, but he just didn’t get it. How long would it take to make something look good, and how he wanted it to look?
“What other drawings you got in here?” John started to mindlessly flip through some of the pages. All it seemed like were drawings of random things, scenery, and occasionally a few lines of text.
“Wai-“ Arthur went to take the book out of his hand until it was too late.
John kept flipping through the pages until he found one that struck his interest. It was a drawing of him.
He wasn’t totally surprised; he saw Arthur drawing portraits of the gang members sometimes, but what was a surprise was when there were multiple drawings of him.
“You...” John stared at him in disbelief, switching his focus between the page and Arthur. “drew me?”
“John liste—“ Arthur tried to say something, going to take the book away, but John flipped through to the previous pages, one more drawing, with writing this time. That came up to three in total. Arthur couldn’t tell if John was mad at him about it or what, only being able to assume it was a good reaction because of the redness that grew across John’s face.
John stared at the drawing more, taking in every single detail. Arthur made him look good, something he didn’t think was possible. Knowing that Arthur took the time to draw him sent a strange wave of emotions through him.
He always thought he wasn’t the best-looking, and even more after the…incident. He put doubt on his looks because of the scars plastered along his face. Sometimes it would go as far as getting jealous because of how good Arthur looked. He didn’t know Arthur felt so strongly about him.
“But I…didn't force you to.”
“I just wanted to.” Arthur quietly said. He had no intention of John ever seeing them, imagining he would find it absurd if he showed John the drawings. It was the only way he could get John out of his head for a little while — by drawing him. He wanted nothing more than to show John affection, rather than just having to go to his tent or head out of camp to do things. He wanted to freely show him love so goddamn badly, instead of keeping it a secret.
John looked back at the page, tracing his finger along the lines of writing next to the drawing. “You think I look good?”
Arthur stared back at him, his face having an orangish tint to it from the lantern. He took in all of John’s features; his sharp jawline, striking eyes, his messy hair that was unbrushed but still managed to look good.
Arthur didn’t reply, he only remembered about the words he wrote on the page a few days ago — the ones John was currently reading which had the clear answer.
John put his hand on Arthur’s neck, moving closer towards him. He leant against his neck, whispering in his ear, “I think you're handsome, Arthur.”
“I ain’t got drawings, but..."
The rest of John’s sentence faded away in Arthur’s head, and so did the sound of the crickets, among all other things.
“John I..” He hesitated at first, but it was impossible to ignore the words John said to him.
Before Arthur could react, John acted for him, pulling him in for a kiss, which was something he hadn't done in a while. He ran his hand through Arthur’s short hair, playing with the hair on the back of his head. The familiar taste of cigarettes and whiskey coated his mouth.
They parted to catch their breath, John’s hair falling into his face when he put his hands around Arthur’s neck, then large hands being placed on his waist — making John’s head run wild.
“You're so red.” John said, noticing a quick smile flicker across Arthur’s face.
“Arthur,” He understood the question he was about to ask was risky, but he hoped Arthur would agree. That's all he wanted right now.
“Sleep with me?”
Arthur didn’t know what to say. Even if everyone was asleep, he was nervous that someone was going to be able to tell what was going on between them.
“No one will know.” John further tried to convince him, seeing Arthur stall on the response.
Arthur noticed the glimpse of light in John’s eye. He knew he had to say no, after all, they didn’t have all the time in the world. But he couldn't bring himself to decline the offer; there was just a part of him that knew this was right.
“Sure, John.” Arthur nodded, slowly taking the leather book away from John’s lap and placing it back into his satchel by the bed. The only person he wanted to see those drawings now was John.
———
Arthur hugged his body, embracing the warmth of John’s body, blocking out the cold air surrounding them. He hugged tighter against him, not knowing the next time this would happen again, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be long.