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Chapter Text

Here they were again. Jedediah squinted into the abyss of red and silver from behind his loaded pistols, one in each hand. He could just make out the expression on Octavius’s face from so far away, one he had come to recognize just before the Roman general commenced his most fatal attack. Octavius lifted his sword and shook it in a tight fist above his head which launched his army of warriors into action. Jedediah yelled out in response and the humble residents of the Western diorama charged on the infiltrators.

Jedediah had known this attack was coming. Their previous showdown ended with unfinished business after a mob of angry farmers had stealthily invaded the diorama of Ancient Rome, a mission Jedediah had strategically orchestrated. Destruction of property was not a charge the miniature Romans took lightly. Octavious swore to avenge the remains of the great plastic structures at the next chance he got. The great ruler and his military advisors had hatched a plan to return the favor the next night, while on the other side of the wall, Jedediah made several preparations to enjoy the fruits of his labor. He’d been daydreaming about making Octavius squirm for months now.

Now facing each other once again with only a few feet between them, their respective tiny subjects kicked up dust and readied for the first round of battle.

Jedediah’s horse bucked up on its hind legs and neighed triumphantly before initiating the descent down the slanted desert hill. “It’s show time, yeehaw!” he yelled, eliciting an enthusiastic round of cheers from his partners. The other cowboys in the small horseback regiment followed close behind their leader, adrenaline rising and voices hollering all the way down the slope.

Jedediah relished the wind in his golden locks and breathed in the scene before him, all the charm of combat under the warm dusty mist. This plan was, according to Jedediah, ‘the most brilliant scheme since the covered wagon’. He could hardly wait to have the general in his clutches and pleading for surrender. The group pushed on, carefully weaving around the miniatures engaged in close combat with the only enemy they had ever known. Jedediah could see Octavius in detail now, his back was facing their sprinting horses. He snickered as Octavius continued shouting orders at his officers, completely unaware of the checkmate Jedediah had him in.

Once the last of Octavious’s officers started in the opposite direction, the company of horsemen swarmed around the blindsided general. “Time’s up for ya, boy”, their leader proclaimed. The other cowboys exchanged giggles and glances of impatience, this charade between the two men was nothing new. Jedediah smirked and shrugged his shoulders at his exasperated prey. The situation seemed impossible to Octavius, he would just have accept the loss of this small battle. The Roman rolled his eyes and slid his sword into its case with a metallic screech. Jedediah swung his leg over the tall horse and hopped down. He sauntered arrogantly around the horse to face the other man. The moment was too perfect to rush. He planted his boots in a wide stance and reached into a pocket on his vest. His hand produced a pair of handcuffs which he hung over his index finger dramatically. “Yer comin’ with me, partner” Jedediah menaced.

Jedediah reached for Octavius’s arm and swung him around, the motion ending with the captive’s face and chest pressed up against the horse. Octavius shivered under the sudden warmth on the backs of his legs from the delicate graze of denim. A coarse hand caught one of his flailing wrists and shoved it roughly through the opening of the handcuffs. Octavius scowled and strained his eyes to shoot the most deadly look he could muster at Jedediah who was enjoying this far too much.

“This hardly seems necessary given the nature of my attack. I command you, pay me my rightful balance and we shall avoid further conflict”, Octavius managed to utter between winded breaths, hoping to appear uncompromised. He squirmed in Jedediah’s grip which now rested firmly on his elbows. Jedediah tightened his hold and whispered into his captive’s ear. “I ain’t given’ you jack”. A cheeky grin snuck over Jedediah’s face at his captive’s frustration.

“All in a day’s work, boys!”, Jedediah announced to his companions, “Git ‘em on the horse!” Two of the cowboys hoisted Octavius up by either arm and slung him on the waiting horse they had brought for this purpose. “Forward, march!”Jedediah cried, and the group began the short trek back to base rock.

Once the band of horsemen reached the top platform of the diorama, Jedediah lifted his hand signaling them to halt. “I’ll take care of things from here”, he said without turning to face them. The rest of the cowboys grumbled in agreement and trotted off to join the defenses. In one swift maneuver about the horse, the cowboy was on the ground again. Octavius had always admired Jedediah’s know how with horses, the graceful way he maneuvered himself and the animals’ fondness of him.

Octavius shot an annoyed glance at Jedediah, then his handcuffs, then Jedediah again. Jedediah nodded in acknowledgement and walked over to the base of Octavius’s horse, holding out his hand in assistance. Octavius swung a leg over the horse’s head and leaned into the offer as he stumbled down to his feet.

“Thank you”, Octavius practically spat at the beaming man through his own unwavering sneer. “Anytime, partner”, Jedediah chuckled, placing a forceful hand on the man’s lower back, “Let’s get goin’ to where we keep the prisoners.”

“You don’t have any prisoners”, Octavius muttered. “Oh hush” Jedediah responded with a considerable elbow jab in Octavius’s side. The countryman shoved his captive forward and the two fell into a brisk pace walking toward the main tent.

Several children scurried with their heads down, scanning the ground for objects to throw at the invaders. Two men atop horses galloped swiftly in pursuit of stray Romans. Farmers sharpened their pitchforks and prepared the canons for firing. The whole diorama was alive with passionate cries of patriotism. Jedediah strode through the lively crowd with his prisoner on display. He grinned and lifted his chin as people stopped to stare at the two, mostly at the Roman who kept his focus trained on the ground.

Finally, they breached the entrance of the main tent and headed to a back room. Sunlight escaped the canvas walls of the deeper hallways and lanterns hung from wood backing to illuminate the path. At last Jedediah manhandled Octavius into a small chamber and released the tied up curtain to fall over the opening behind them. Octavius shifted to face Jedediah and lifted his eyebrows expectantly.

“What do you plan to do with me?” He inquired in a tone that made Jedediah’s blood boil. “Don’t get smart with me, we’re here to talk terms” Jedediah retorted.

The shapely armor draped over Octavius’s torso perfectly reflected the dim glow of the lanterns. To Jedediah’s disadvantage, the light persisted in shining on the enticingly smooth surface. The cowboy’s usual fierce stare faltered under the urge to feel the cool metal, let his hand trace the outline of Octavius’s form. He couldn’t remember for the life of him why he wanted to capture Octavius or what he would do when he did. His eyes flickered between Octavius’s chest and his dark brown gaze which was both determined and cocky, completely aware of the defenseless state he had his enemy in. Octavious saw an opportunity to entertain himself.

Jedediah regained his composure and remembered his tried and true protocol for hostage intake. “Git yer darn sparkle shirt off!” Jedediah nervously gestured toward Octavius’s armor, too flustered to remember the correct term. His feeble attempt at authority was received with a sideways smile. Octavius bowed his chin lower and met Jedediah’s eyes with a smitten expression. The cowboy’s cheeks blushed a telling shade of red and his face locked up before he could land a clever retort.

“I ain’t born yesterday boy, I know you got some ‘a yer musty swords hiddin’ in there” he blurted out, desperate to salvage some of the control he was quickly losing to his opponent.

Octavius groaned at the cowboy’s lack of creativity. “I’ll need to be freed from my restraints first” he stated, presenting his handcuffed wrists.

“Fine.” Jedediah huffed as he pulled out a key ring from his pocket. He fiddled with the lock until the handcuffs loosened and he yanked them off of Octavius’s wrists.

Octavius’s hands drifted slowly but intently to the leather strings that secured his chest plate at the right shoulder. He gently tugged at the knot until it fell loose and then moved to the other side, letting his fingers linger, allowing Jedediah to memorize the novel sight. Jedediah’s lips parted slightly at the unexpected show, accommodating for the copious amounts of oxygen he found himself in need of. He had no idea why he was struggling to execute a basic task, one he’d managed many times before with other soldiers in his years of fighting. He cursed himself silently for his obvious reaction, fully understanding how he must appear, yet dying to indulge the feeling. This was a new side of Octavious, one with all the same determination Jedediah observed on the tile battlefield of the diorama room but with an unfamiliar quality that weakened Jedediah severely. Somehow his prisoner seemed closer to victory now than he ever had during battle.

The armor fell forward into the Roman’s hands, exposing the silky red fabric that draped over one side of his chest and a set of firm muscles on the other. Olive skin glistened with sweat all the way down to his perfectly carved pelvis just above the linen garment that hung from his hips. Jedediah swallowed hard and his skin prickled with perspiration. Not only had he been proven wrong but for some reason he was at a loss for words now, too.

“Do you like what you see?” Octavius knew the answer to the question he posed but he enjoyed teasing the man. Jedediah felt cornered, which he knew was his own fault, but all he could focus on was chiseled abdomen in front of him. He felt Octavius’s glazed brown eyes shift from their antagonizing gaze to one that invited his presence, his touch. Suddenly Jedediah felt an overwhelming urge to reassert control. He grabbed a fistful of red fabric from Octavius’s chest, yanking him intimately close.

“Listen here partner, I don’t like this attitude yer givin me one bit” the cowboy sneered. “I could put you and yer kin in a world ‘a hurt if you don’t drop the sass” he continued, “so tell yer men to back off our diorama, ya hear?”

Octavius only smirked at the vague threat. “What if I say no?” Octavius was pushing it but he liked the sensation of Jedediah holding him at his mercy, a feeling he experienced many times before in battle but now boiling over with the closed distance between their bodies. He felt emboldened by the effectiveness of this tactic. He decided he would savor the longing look on the cowboy’s face, partly to evade a dangerous outcome and partly to see just how far this flushing version of Jedediah would bend before he broke.

“Quit lookin’ at me like that when I’m tryna be intimidatin’!” Jedediah whined, failing to focus on those patronizing doe eyes whose mission was more successful than his own at the moment. “Like what?” Octavius asked innocently, biting his lip to quell his laughter. Jedediah’s lips quivered in irritation. Suddenly, a burning heat spread over Jedediah’s chest as Octavius’s hands slid to clutch at his collar. Jedediah exhaled shortly and swallowed again. The anger he felt from ages of ongoing war, an anger he knew was just and noble, the very thing that drove him to capture Octavius seemed to vanish before the playful expression on his prisoner’s face. Something uncontrollable took its place. A desire to know the general’s eyes from every angle, to find what else was under that silly get up.

“Jed, we got damned gladiators taking hostages on ground level, we need ya out there!” A disheveled cowboy yelled from around the curtain before disappearing back into the heated battle.

Jedediah bit his lip in frustration and finally released his hold on the Roman. He started for the hallway and within a few seconds he was sprinting down the corridor to join the front lines. “We ain’t done yet, partner!” He called out behind him.

Octavius couldn’t help but smile as he watched excitement and determination overcome the cowboy. He ducked out into the hallway to see Jedediah sprinting into the crowds, and he caught himself wishing the moment hadn’t ended so quickly. ‘That’s foolish Octavius, you have an empire to lead,’ he thought to himself and brushed off his disappointment. Octavius gathered up his armor absentmindedly as he wondered what else his sworn enemy could get distracted by.

Chapter Text

The townspeople squeezed shoulder to shoulder in the humble dining room of the tavern. These folks prided themselves in throwing the best parties in all of the museum. Not even the Neanderthal’s wildest nights could beat the good company of neighbors after a long night’s work. And what a way to end the night, the town’s most coveted leader was just in the middle of a heated tale.

“So with my pistol on the sucker’s back, I marched him into our tent and sat him down for an old fashioned interrogation.” Scattered murmurs and worried glances passed through the crowd.

Then, silence. Jedediah knew by now how the audience loved a good dramatic pause. “And he cracked like a snail on a summer’s day.” The storyteller whispered. More enticed buzzing from the crowd.

“What happened next?” shouted one of the younger kids huddled in the back. Jedediah didn’t mind the interruption, he loved charming the large tavern crowds that gathered for his stories. Today’s story was particularly dramatized, a retelling of the night’s events which concluded in the Roman army’s terrible defeat.

“Well that old boy was angry enough to swallow a horn-toad backwards,” Jedediah said with a chuckle. He narrowed his eyes on the crowd, “then he turned on his heels and high tailed his toga wearin’ ass off’a this, great, land!” The crowd erupted into so much commotion you would have thought a shotgun went off.

“All right folks, thanks for all your help tonight!” Jedediah hollered over the bustle of people exchanging good mornings and taking to the exits. Still standing on the table he used for preaching, he smiled at their triumph. He took his de facto leadership position in the little community they had built for themselves very seriously. They needed strong leadership, seeing as though the most petulant bunch of ancient Romans resided next door. Nothing lit his fire for war, whether between wax figures or human beings, like a rally of proud farmers following him into the flames. Tonight renewed their trust in Jedediah, but somehow, something felt wrong to him.

A friendly voice broke his concentration, “Y’know, I’d call you out on these little white lies of yours if the people didn’t seem to like ‘em so much” William joked.

“What are you on about, I gave ‘em the straight facts!”

“I saw your ‘interrogation’,” William gestured in air quotes, “and that Octo-vus fella was gettin’ under your skin pretty good.”

“Octavius” Jedediah corrected him absentmindedly, and shot William a dirty look, “And for your information, I had it under control! I got ‘em off our turf, didn’t I?” Jedediah asked the question mostly to himself. Truth be told, he had no idea what it was that made the Romans retreat. Jedediah fully expected for the conflict to rage on through the next few nights. But a few moments after leaving Octavius and stepping back onto the battlefield, the armored miniatures began filing out of the Western diorama and sliding down the ropes one by one.

“Clear out fellas, sun’s on the rise” the manager called from where she was sweeping up discarded napkins and bottles.

William looked back at Jedediah, “whatever you say partner” he offered unconvincingly, then departed for the exits. Jedediah sighed and looked around the near empty room. He should be happy for the outcome, not wishing the battle would start up again. Never in all their nights of wakefulness had one of the armies surrendered so willingly, so unexpectedly. Deep down he wondered if the animosity between the two little worlds would ever resolve, and, if so, where he would fit in.

“I’m ‘bout ready to hit the sack,” Jedediah called to the manager, who was now locking up the side doors.

“Night, Jed,” she replied. Jedediah cleared the room in a few paces and stepped out into the early morning.

*****

“The advisors are requesting your presence to discuss our expansion plans, sir. I believe they may also want to draw up possible battle strategies,” Marcus informed, lingering in the doorway. Octavius had been hard at work in his chambers for the past several hours, the servant Marcus was wary to interrupt.

“Yes, Marcus, I am drawing something up at the moment.” Octavius said over his shoulder, “is that all?”

“Well, um, it’s just that you surprised us tonight with that sudden command to retreat.” Octavius set down his pen and turned his head to the man.

“I have a plan,” Octavius said slowly.

“We don’t doubt you, we only wish to assist with your strategies.” Marcus explained.

“Of course. Thank you Marcus.” Octavius was growing impatient, he needed quiet to think through every possibility of the plan he was working on.

“Right” Marcus shuffled toward the door. “And what is it you have planned for the next attack?”

Octavius sighed loudly and set his pen down, firmly enough for Marcus to hear this time.

“Yes, well, if you must know, I am working on a treaty at the moment.” Octavius snapped.

“For,” Marcus paused to think of what could possibly be accomplished by a treaty, “peace?”

“Yes, what else?” Octavius’s voice took on a tone of obvious agitation.

“You really think they will agree to this?” Marcus was growing suspicious.

“Of course not, the terms I’ve listed are preposterous” Octavius said as if he’d just been asked if the sun goes around the earth.

“Then why are you proposing this?” Marcus was tired of the constant back and forth with the general, an occurrence which seemed more frequent recently. He communicated little if not at all with his advisors and barked orders that made no sense in critical moments. The loyalty of his superior was beginning to seem questionable to Marcus. Above all else, Marcus worried for the general and couldn’t help but feel sorry for his loneliness.

“To upset them!” Octavius yelled accidentally. “I’m, um, trying something new,” he said as he lowered his voice.

“Oh, I suppose that’s clever. They certainly won’t like it.” Marcus added, doing his best to seem supportive. He thought the idea was positively childish.

“Yes I should think Jedediah wouldn’t like it.” Octavius scrunched his eyebrows in disgust and turned back to his papers.

“Not at all sir, it’s a wonderful plan.” Marcus reassured him, stifling a giggle, “Good evening sir”.
He rushed outside and shut the door gently. The diorama room was still beyond the plastic pillars. His steps echoed on the expansive platform. Marcus could hardly contain himself walking to the colosseum.

“Cato, Cato! I won! And I believe you’re now on tomorrow’s schedule!” Marcus waved down his friend on the structure’s steps.

“You’re kidding,” Cato sighed and dropped his arms in exasperation, “I really didn’t think he would do it.”

“Oh yes, and completely out of the blue! I was complimenting his ridiculous plan and like clockwork, he said it!” Marcus bounced with each step. “See, I told you he couldn’t hold a conversation for more than 30 seconds without mentioning Jedediah!”

“Hmm, something is definitely the matter with those two.” Cato replied, already trying to decipher his friend’s strange encounter.

“Well, have fun working my early shift tomorrow!” Marcus teased. The pair strolled off to take their daily positions.

*****

Octavius’s finger twitched. He’d been silently anticipating the moment he could move again all day long. The sun faded below the horizon and Octavius’s arms fell from the rigid stance. He walked briskly, but not so fast as to draw attention to himself, back toward his quarters in the temple structure. He had ambitious plans for that night, plans he had built with plenty of room for failure. The exhilaration of working in secret, apart from his coerced confession to Marcus, had his sandals flying over the paved stone paths. Even more exciting was the notion of meddling with the historically uncertain diplomatic relationship between the two dioramas. Well, Octavius reflected, struggling to keep the thought at bay, it would be exciting to meddle with the unpredictable dynamic between him and Jedediah.

Octavius threw open the door of his office and hurried to his drafts which rested neatly on the desk where he had left them. He began to read over his work as he did with everything he wrote, until anticipation got the better of him and he rolled the papers tightly and fastened them with a piece of twine. Octavius emerged from his office looking like determination itself. Despite his outward confidence, he had to alternate which of his hands held the scroll to avoid leaving nervous sweat marks.

“Evening, sir. Late for something?” Cato asked. Octavius nearly ran into him where he had been standing for the past several minutes.

“No, just off to, um, handle something,” Octavius choked out. His eyes darted around to find the corner of the diorama where the rope was stored. He had no time for Cato’s nosy inquiries tonight.

“I see. Where to if you don’t mind me asking?” A subtle smirk took his face as he asked.

Octavius grinded his teeth in his suddenly very dry mouth. In a cruel trick of fate, Marcus appeared at Cato’s side. His gaze now flickering between the sets of curious eyes, Octavius gulped and prayed for the sunlight’s paralyzing comfort.

“Hello Marcus,” Cato addressed his friend, “Octavius was just telling me where he’s off to.” Octavius smiled weakly as sweat dotted his forehead.

“I am off to visit the neighbors, as they say!” Marcus laughed briefly but Cato’s stone face seemed unimpressed by Octavius’s attempted humor. “Well then, I shall see you both when I return,” Octavius said, hoping to escape the unbearable interaction. He stepped around Marcus and started for the rope in the corner.

“Good luck negotiating with Jedediah!” Marcus called to the general who was farther away now than what seemed physically possible in just a few seconds. The mention froze Octavius’s foot mid-air and his face heated to a rosy blush. Still within earshot, Cato and Marcus summoned all their strength to keep from cackling. To the servants' dismay, Octavius acted as if he didn’t hear the comment and resumed his brisk pace.

Once he reached the corner, he wasted no time in securing the rope and climbing down. He finished the descent in record speed and headed for the base of the Western diorama.

“Hello? I wish to enter!” Octavius eagerly shouted up to the ledge of the diorama. A cowboy came into view and posed, crossing his arms, looking down with raised eyebrows at the unlikely visitor.

“Hi, yes. Would you let me up, please?” Octavius hadn’t given this part of his plan much thought.

“What’s your business, partner?” The cowboy yelled down, like a statue guarding the threshold.

“Um,” Octavius’s mind raced for a respectable explanation, “diplomacy?” He was proud of his answer and eagerly awaited its response from across the silent void. After a few moments of intense eye contact and both of them remaining completely still, the cowboy flung the rope over the ledge. Octavius startled at the crack of the rope hitting the tile and walked to where it now lay. This journey was all too familiar to Octavius, though usually none of the townsfolk stood overhead watching his every move. At the end of his climb he hoisted himself over the ledge and landed expertly on the dusty ground.

“Thank you,” said Octavius, to which the cowboy grumbled incoherently.

“Good night then.” Octavius turned from the guard and started for the sandy ramp that led to the diorama’s upper level.

Second thoughts plagued his journey. No one would know if he didn’t go through with it, right? Jedediah certainly wasn’t expecting him. How easy it would be to pretend this never happened. Then it hit Octavius that he was about to speak to Jedediah in private, for the second time in their existence. The notion terrified him yet felt fateful, like something more was waiting in that room. Years of routine and boredom caved under Octavius on that night Jedediah had captured him and left him in search of solid ground.

Octavius found himself at the top of the ramp, just a few feet away from the main tent entrance. The pivotal moment, Octavius thought, and eventually urged his feet forward to breach the opening of the tent. His eyes tried adjusting to the dark room and he ducked his head to train his sight on the floor.

“Octavius.” The voice sounded confused, defensive, and shocked, but with a hint of comfort. The voice was Jedediah’s.

Chapter Text

Jedediah’s office was quaint with only a desk and chair in the center and a few trinkets on a bookshelf in the corner. But the space was well lived in, Octavious noted the wear on the furniture and the scattered messes of items Jedediah had brought back from around the diorama. A plastic tumbleweed, a few train parts and tools, some dusty tree branches. He never thought the lone ranger was the type to collect.

“Lotta nerve showing your face around here” Jedediah started, taking his seat behind the wooden desk, “last time you were in this establishment was as a trespasser!”

“Yes, I know Jedediah, but my intentions are honest this time. I’ve come to offer my peace.” He explained with his chin tilted up. Jedediah said nothing, his fingers danced on his lap to an invisible rhythm. He had found that this was the most efficient method for waiting out Octavius’s high and mighty act.

“Jedediah,” Octavious began after a few more impossibly long seconds of silence. Jedediah slumped his shoulders and sighed dramatically.

“Oh sorry, can you say that again?” He finally asked, leaning forward and setting his elbows on the desk.

Octavius hated when Jedediah acted, in his words, like a five year old Caligula. Octavius readjusted his position in an overt attempt at sophistication.

“Yes,” he started with a painfully forced friendly tone, “I would like to discuss a peace agreement.”

“Is this one of your ‘being nice to me to get me to do something stupid’ tricks?” Jedediah pursed his lips and squinted his eyes obnoxiously.

“No, I have no ulterior motives,” Octavius assured him. He didn’t let his confidence waver in front of his rival though his palms were beginning to sweat with apprehension. He had never faced Jedediah so seriously before. Always practical jokes and long winded insults but never a professional conversation. Jedediah sensed the changed air between them as well. As much as their banter frustrated him in the moment, he had hoped to see the Octavius from last night again. There wasn’t even a trace of the audacious defiance he used to chip away at Jedediah’s own harsh resolve. Jedediah wouldn’t mind the reversal of roles if it didn’t mean getting the cold shoulder from Octavius.

Jedediah studied the floor, desperate to get a rise out of him. He thought quickly for something clever to say to mimic the maturity Octavius was so persistent in. The room seemed smaller and warmer with every second.

“Ok, well what do you have for me?” Jedediah asked without a lick of humor. Octavius glanced at him quickly in surprise. He found himself uncomfortable at the sudden change in demeanor. Jedediah wasn’t one to pass on the chance to ridicule his opponents, a reaction Octavious had expected from him. They were both entirely out of their depth.

Octavius produced the scrolls containing his treaty agreement and placed it on the desk. Jedediah carefully pulled the twine away and unravelled the parchment. The document wasn’t long, and the cursive writing fit neatly on the scroll. The gesture was grander than anything the two leaders had exchanged in the past. Jedediah was intrigued. He skimmed the paragraphs hurriedly but picked up enough to get the gist. Octavius could see his eyes turn from confused to angry as he read the terms of agreement.

“You want me to permanently close our exit and our expansion plans?” Jedediah nearly yelled, “But it’s manifest destiny!” This was the fiery Jedediah who Octavius came back to see. He didn’t care so much about finalizing the preposterous terms he suggested in his treaty. Of course the arrangement would be favorable to the Romans, but more importantly, he needed a way to talk to Jedediah again. Life in the Roman diorama was excruciatingly mundane and Octavius had grown tired of the two fighting each other from several feet away with their tiny armies. He longed for the up close heat in Jedediah’s face and the burning tension between them, even if the argument was fruitless.

Octavius delivered his prepared reaction with utmost formality, “Oh be serious Jedediah, manifest destiny is just an adolescent excuse for destroying our barrier. And you’ve hardly made a dent, just a bunch of noisy racket every night!” In truth, Octavius couldn’t wait for the Western folk to quit stalling with their futile dynamite procedure and just knock down the wall already. He was growing worried that their feeble attempts would never succeed.

Jedediah could feel his anger rising at Octavious’s obvious power play, but even more at his rigidness that the cowboy couldn’t seem to crack.

“You ain’t been scared of a buncha angry countryfolk before!” He felt foolish for letting his frustration show so visibly but he couldn’t stop himself from yelling. Octavious responded with icy silence.

“Really, Octavious, what is the meaning of this?” Jedediah was seriously curious as to what Octavious hoped to accomplish. He thought both of them respected, or at least found a purpose in the ongoing conflict between the groups. Despite their differences, Jedediah felt that in a strange way, Octavious was the only other person in the museum who knew him at all. The people in his own exhibit sure didn’t give the rivalry a second thought. He loved them, but they were only good for following his crazy plans. He knew they were content with their little families and ways of life. Telling them about his personal doubts or whatever it was between himself and Octavious would be a burden they didn’t deserve to bear. Getting the silent treatment from his only equal made him feel even more alone than ever.

So Jedediah did what Jedediah did best: the unexpected. If Octavious wanted to keep going back on his plans and pulling the rug out from under ‘ol Jedediah, then it was time he got a taste of his own medicine.

“Fine, hand me your fancy pen and I’ll sign it right here,” Jedediah said matter of factly, trying his best to seem unphased.

Sure as the sky is blue, Jedediah thought to himself as Octavious’s cold expression dropped. He abandoned his frigid stance and stared at Jedediah blankly.

“What?” Octavious asked, he couldn’t think of anything better to say. This was definitely not one of the reactions he had so thoroughly prepared for.

“Go on, give me the pen,” Jedediah continued, he could hardly keep his excitement at bay for the stunned reaction he earned from Octavious, “this is what you wanted, right?” He knew he was just rubbing it in now. He walked around the desk in two long strides. Jedediah was already having too much fun, he reached for the pen, but Octavious stepped back quickly to dodge his hand.

“C’mon Octavious, I agree! I’ll sign your papers!” Jedediah cried, throwing his hands up.

“Well shouldn’t we at least, um,” Octavious scrambled for words.

“What, talk about it? You know as good as I how that goes!” Jedediah retorted quickly. He lunged for the pen again, this time grazing Octavious’s hand. Octavious snapped it in tightly.

“Stop that Jedediah!” Octavious yelled, the moment was moving too fast for the careful plan he had arranged. Jedediah couldn’t help but chuckle at the general’s adamant refusal. He could read Octavious like a book.

“Oh so now you wanna play hard to get?” He teased before grabbing at the pen a third time. Octavious swung around in defense but not before Jedediah’s outstretched hand got a firm grip on his side. Jedediah pulled him in enough to stretch his other arm toward the pen.

“Jeezum petes Octavious, gimme the pen!” All of a sudden, he leaned too far off his feet and grabbed at Octavious to steady himself. The force knocked him sideways.

“What are you-” Octavious yelled in the commotion. He reached for the desk and caught himself before they both toppled to the floor. Jedediah followed, his body slamming into Octavious as they hit the desk. When Jedediah settled back, they were facing each other, closer than they intended. Octavious was half sitting on the desk, leaning back on his hands for support while Jedediah hovered over him. Both men heaved through their toothy smiles from the struggle, their heavy breaths intertwined with chuckles. Jedediah didn’t take the pen, in fact, he completely forgot about it. His hands were still idling at Octavious’s sides from where he held onto him earlier. Octavious looked up, forcing their eyes to meet.

“This is what happens when you horseplay,” Octavious scolded in a whisper, his smile softening. Jedediah swallowed and lowered his eyebrows. His relentless stare on his eyes, his lips, made Octavious’s cheeks more red than they already were.

Jedediah leaned forward in one swift movement and met his lips forcefully. Octavious’s face froze at the contact, his eyes wide open with shock. The soft lips were pressed intently on his own, so intently that he couldn’t help but give in, he parted them slightly and returned the arduous kiss. He moaned softly at the fervor his welcome was met with. Octavious was 90 percent sure he was hallucinating. He had been shown nothing but resentment by this person for as long as they had known each other. Somehow, he felt that same animosity in the present moment. Maybe, he considered, in a twisted way, it had never been hatred, but a strange affection they shared each time they stood on opposite sides, swearing to end the other once and for all.

Jedediah’s hands held firmly at Octavious’s armor, using it to pull him in. His lips searched deeper into Octavious’s face and his body pinned him tighter against the desk. The sensation was foreign but filled something in Jedediah he had craved for ages. Having him right there, close enough to handle with his touch surpassed the joy of any military victory. He satisfied his urge for more by pressing himself as far as physics would let him against Octavious. His grunts were echoed with soft whines. He felt Octavious’s hands loosen from their trapped position between their bodies and migrate up his chest. The men’s close proximity forced the wandering hands up against the fabric of Jedediah’s shirt, scrunching it roughly and tickling the skin underneath. Jedediah laughed softly and was glad for the space that the movement granted his lower body. His hips bucked forward and Octavious let his legs separate slightly.

Their joined weight fell further back onto the desk until Jedediah’s hand had to leave Octavious’s side to prop them up on the wooden surface. Octavious’s hands grasped at Jedediah’s collar. His fingers curled around pieces of linen and caressed the exposed skin. Emboldened by the intensity behind Octavious’s kiss and the eager moans escaping him, he leaned in further, letting their bodies slide into a horizontal position. Octavious bit his lip slightly too hard in surprise, enough to make Jedediah gasp in pain. But he didn’t mind the discomfort from his lip which was probably cut now. They both tasted the blood, vulnerable and warm, but the bleeding man was unbothered, all he could feel was his body set aflame at every tiny movement. Suddenly Octavious pushed him away, hurriedly finding the desk with his hands for support.

He opened his eyes, unable to face Jedediah’s. His chest heaved and sunk rapidly as he tried to catch his breath. Jedediah retracted his hand from Octavious’s waist and the other fell away from its place on the desk. Octavious’s fingers absentmindedly grazed his own lips, relishing the warmth Jedediah left on them. Then he cautiously reached for Jedediah’s, tenderly wiping away the bright red gash with the tips of his fingers. Jedediah’s blue eyes lightened and gazed curiously at the man. He pulled his hand back shamefully when he realized what he was doing. They stayed like that for a moment just sitting and calming their tired breaths and flushed faces. Each time Jedediah looked at Octavious, Octavious looked away.

Jedediah cleared his throat, looking like he might speak, then pushed past the desk and left the room like it was on fire. Octavious didn’t call after him. He just sat silently, trying to figure out if that really just happened. He straightened his clothes and stood up from the desk. The scrolls, still sitting on the desk, mocked him and his foolish plan that landed him in more trouble than he thought possible. He had absolutely no idea how he would face Jedediah again.