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Dutch shrugged his coat off of his shoulders and pulled the sleeves from his arms, dropping the fabric onto his cot as he let out a sigh, he was getting antsy. It had been a good few weeks since he and Hosea spent some quality time together out of camp, it had got increasingly harder to materialise new excuses for them to leave camp together. Last time they had been able to spend time together Dutch had to wait at the saloon in Rhodes for an hour or so before Hosea was able to slip out of camp to join him. But even then they were in public and had to keep up a certain appearance in front of the townsfolk. They were still working out how to play both the Gray and the Braithwaite families at once, Hosea had been left in charge of the Braithwaites and Dutch the Grays.
With everyone busying themselves with their camp chores or guard duty, Dutch kept Hosea in the corner of his eye as he passed his shared tent before he approached the count and gave him a quick brush. As always, Hosea sat cross legged on his bedroll with his nose in a book, rarely did they read the same literature yet Dutch still took a keen interest in Hosea’s favourites, always asking questions about them and keeping an eye out for similar books when looting homesteads and such. Still he racked his brain for ways to excuse him and Hosea from camp, anything would be better than having to pussyfoot around each other when it came to grabbing stew later that day. Then he remembered not so long ago he had seen Arthur and Kieran go fishing not too far from Clemens point. Without a second thought he cleared his throat, looking in Hosea’s direction.
“You wanna come fishing with me, old girl? I know a brilliant spot.” Dutch claimed with a grin on his face, hoping that Hosea would pick up on it. Hosea finally looked up from his book and turned his head to the other man calling after him, of course he picked up on that smile. With a swift look around camp he nodded.
“Sure, got nothing better to do I suppose.” He offered an amused chuckle as he marked his page and placed his book on a crate nearby. That same crate offered support for him to get up off of the floor as one hand gripped the edge firmly with the other on his lower back. The many years of being bashed about weren't too kind on his aching bones. After a quick stretch he joined Dutch next to the horses, offering The Count and Silver Dollar an oatcake each which they eagerly took. Dutch gave Hosea a pat on the shoulder before they saddled up and strolled out of camp.
“So where's this spot you think is oh so brilliant?” Hosea questioned.
“Stop questioning everything and just follow me, will you?” The other man puffed at his witty remark and did as he was told. After a minute or so, Dutch led them into the trees next to a section of Flat Iron Lake where he ushered Hosea to hitch his horse as he was doing. Again Hosea did so but not before noticing the other man's lack of fishing rod. His arms crossed over his chest as he shot Dutch a quizzical look.
“So you drag me out here to fish yet you don’t have your fishing rod, how convenient for you. Gonna make me do all the hard work, are we?” Another amused chuckle left his lips and Dutch’s usual snicker followed.
“You know damn well I don’t wanna fish.”
“Well due to your lack of fishing skills, I gathered that.” Hosea tittered as Dutch playfully swatted his arm. When his giggling came to an end, Hosea looked up at Dutch again who stood with his hands on his hips. “Tell me what you want, Dutch.”
“I just want to be with you, my dear.” The words came out as more of a whisper as if he was almost scared to utter them, which would be no lie. His hands slipped from his hips and hung awkwardly at his sides. Hosea knew Dutch and his mannerisms better than anyone, and that is why he didn’t hesitate to step closer to Dutch and place his hand on the side of the other man's neck with a soft smile. His thumb idly brushed across the delicate skin beneath it, although he knew Dutch was a stubborn outlaw, at times like this he held him as if he was the most precious thing he had ever had the fortune to lay his hands on. Holding him so dearly as if one heavy handed move would break him completely. Dutch soon returned the favour by pulling Hosea to him with a light hand on his lower back, a sweet smile not only plastered over his mouth but his eyes too. It always fascinated Hosea how expressive the other man's eyes were, the way they crinkled shut whenever he genuinely smiled never failed to make his heart ache.
The way Dutch’s arms snaked around him made him feel secure, as if anyone were to shoot them right here right now then he would die in his favourite place. But that wasn’t going to happen, not today. The dark haired man lay his head in the crook of Hosea’s neck, leaving a little kiss whenever he moved slightly. His moustache tickled every now and then, but to be able to hold Dutch so close to him made up for it.
“I wish I could be with you, like this, always.” Hosea said fondly, his eyes fluttered shut not out of tiredness but out of pure comfort.
“One day, old girl.” Dutch soothed, one of his hands running through Hosea's fair hair.
“You getting all sentimental on me, Dutch?”
“How could I not, hmm?” Mellow giggles left each of them. After a while of them holding each other, gently sharing kisses and talking ever so lovingly to each other, Dutch sighed.
“We should get back to camp, got a lot of planning and-” Hosea brought Dutch’s jabbering to an abrupt hult with a short yet adoring kiss before pulling him to the grass covered ground beneath them. The sun had begun to set half an hour ago and now the only light they had was from the tiny campfire Hosea had set up to make them both coffee. Hosea lay practically on top of Dutch as he nuzzled into Dutch’s cheek, planting little kisses all over it.
“Stop worrying, will you? I’m sure Susan has everyone and everything under control, that can wait until tomorrow.” Dutch’s arms snaked around Hosea’s waist again, pulling him impossibly closer to his chest whilst he kissed Hosea’s forehead carefully.
“You’re right, it can wait until tomorrow, sweetheart.”