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Octavius was not used to being underdressed.
There were rules in Rome, after all. There was honor. And honor, he firmly believed, was best expressed through polished bronze armor, a crimson cape, and regulation sandals that could crush the skull of an enemy if properly applied.
But on this particular night, he was wearing a fringed leather vest.
And not just any vest. Jedediah’s vest.
“You look ridiculous,” Jed said from the corner of the diorama, grinning with his arms crossed and his shirt hanging open like he hadn’t a care in the world.
Octavius adjusted the vest’s hem and looked down at his legs with a frown. “I feel ridiculous.”
Jed walked over slowly, spurs making soft ticks against the stone. “Yeah, but you look real good.”
“This… lacks structure,” Octavius said, poking at the fringe. “And coverage. Is this even functional in battle?”
Jed laughed—a proper, loud, belly-deep kind of laugh. “Sugar, that thing ain’t ever been in battle. It’s been in saloons and gambling halls and one bar fight in Arizona. That’s about it.”
“I am freezing,” Octavius declared, tugging the vest closed.
“You’re not freezing,” Jed said, tugging it open again. “You’re dramatic.”
Octavius scowled. “I’m a commander. There’s a difference.”
“Same thing,” Jed said, then leaned in, hands sliding around Octavius’s waist. “You know, I thought you’d never try it on.”
“I only did because you dared me.”
“And I only dared you because I knew it’d drive me nuts,” Jed replied, pressing a kiss to his temple. “So technically, I win.”
“You are insufferable.”
“You love me.”
“Yes,” Octavius sighed. “Against all logic.”
They stood together for a moment, warm and close in the quiet of the exhibit, the overhead museum lights dimmed now to simulate nighttime. The Tablet’s magic had already begun to hum faintly beneath the stone. Rome was stirring.
Jed slipped his arms around Octavius’s shoulders and looked him up and down. “I gotta say, you make frontier look good.”
Octavius tilted his head. “Do I?”
“Mm-hmm. Might have to keep you in that for a while.”
“I’d rather be skewered.”
Jed chuckled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
Octavius groaned.
“You know what would make it fair?” Jed said.
Octavius narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“You wearin’ my vest…”
“Yes?”
“And me wearin’ your armor.”
Octavius blinked. Then blinked again. “Absolutely not.”
“Oh, come on!”
“You’ll get bronze polish all over your ridiculous jeans.”
“You’re not even wearing pants right now!”
“That’s your fault!”
Jed threw his head back and laughed again. “Alright, alright. But I’m serious. Swap night. I think the boys would love it.”
Octavius muttered something about barbarians and wandered over to the stone bench near the forum, sitting down with his knees very close together.
“You know,” Jed said, flopping down beside him, “you never do anything halfway. When you commit, you commit. Look at you in that tiny vest.”
“It is barely fabric.”
“That’s the appeal.”
Octavius arched an eyebrow. “How do you even function like this?”
“Well, I usually wear pants with it.”
“Which are too large for me.”
“That’s the other appeal.”
Octavius gave him a dry look.
Jed leaned in again, nudging their shoulders together. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
Octavius considered that.
“I want to,” he said finally. “I just… feel a bit exposed.”
Jed nodded. “You are. That’s what makes it hot.”
Octavius laughed despite himself. “You’re a menace.”
“And you’re in love with me.”
“Yes,” Octavius said, quieter now. “Very much so.”
They sat like that for a few minutes—Rome breathing softly around them, lanterns flickering to life, distant laughter rising from the Egyptian wing where Ahkmenrah was hosting one of his famous tea nights.
Jed’s fingers found Octavius’s, and he traced tiny circles along his knuckles. “I’m serious, though. I think it’s kinda nice. Bein’ in each other’s clothes.”
“Why?”
“‘Cause it’s like… I dunno. A way of carryin’ each other.”
Octavius turned to look at him.
Jed shrugged. “When I put on your cape that one time? I felt taller. Braver. Like I could command a room.”
“You did,” Octavius said. “You told Caesar he was an overgrown wax banana and lived.”
“Exactly.” Jed grinned. “And now look at you. Lookin’ like a whole frontier fantasy.”
Octavius rolled his eyes but smiled. “You are utterly irredeemable.”
Jed stood up suddenly. “Wait here.”
“Where are you going?”
“Gonna get your armor.”
“Jedediah—”
“Sit tight, general.”
Octavius sighed and leaned back against the bench, watching his ridiculous partner jog off through the torch-lit alleys of their miniature city. He adjusted the vest—which hung awkwardly over his shoulders, still warm from Jed’s body—and let himself relax.
A few minutes later, Jed returned, carrying a full set of bronze Roman armor stacked like grocery bags in his arms.
“You’re going to throw out your back,” Octavius said, getting up to help.
“You kiddin’? This stuff’s lighter than a bale of hay.”
It took ten minutes of intense effort, but eventually they managed it. Jed, now stripped of his flannel and boots, stood in the middle of the courtyard wearing Octavius’s full battle armor—chestplate, cape, and leather sandals.
He spun in place. “How do I look?”
“Like an idiot.”
Jed struck a pose. “A hot idiot?”
Octavius pressed a hand to his face. “Tragically, yes.”
The helmet slipped a little to the side. Jed pushed it back and tried to swagger across the stones.
“I don’t understand how you walk in this every night,” he said. “I feel like I’m about to start a war or recite a monologue.”
“You get used to it,” Octavius said, watching him with a mix of horror and affection. “Though I suspect my tailor is weeping somewhere.”
“I feel like I could take on an army.”
“Please don’t.”
“I might!”
Octavius stepped forward, gripped the sides of his armor and pulled him close. “If you conquer any territory, I expect a proper tribute.”
Jed grinned. “You’ll get your tribute.”
They kissed—warm and playful—right there in the middle of the square, lit by the glow of miniature torches and the sleepy magic of the museum.
When they pulled back, Octavius rested his forehead against Jed’s. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For letting me be ridiculous.”
Jed snorted. “Darlin’, I’m the ridiculous one. You just look better doin’ it.”