Day 4 entry two days late because I’m a nervous Nelly but now I’m brave enough to post. Jonah kisses Mr Favor because he is dealing with some internal stuff.
———
Jonah was drunk, or at least well on his way to being drunk. That was the only explanation really. Or at least that’s what Gil told himself in the days after.
He helped the man back to his room with an arm around his waist, smiling softly at the quiet and tuneless humming. Jonah was an odd fellow, keeping to himself for the most part but coming out of his shell when you caught him alone. Gil liked him. He was good at following orders, yes, but he was also sharp eyed and keenly intelligent. But there was something about him that was… different.
Rowdy knew, or he had implied as such, but whatever it was had remained a secret. In time, if the man wanted to tell him, Gil would listen. For now he let it be. Men’s secrets were their own, after all.
He nudged the hotel room door open with his hip and guided Jonah through, smiling a little more at the muttered curse as Jonah stumbled to take off his boots. They were scuffed and well worn. Gil thought they must be very comfortable, soft as butter perhaps. He reached down and helped the man stand up straight.
“Here, let me-”
He stopped mid sentence, his attention caught by Jonah staring up at him with wide, almost grey-blue eyes.
“I think,” Jonah started, his voice breathy, “if it had been you, I might’ve been happy to be a bride, for a while at least.”
Gil blinked at the words. They burrowed into his mind and settled there like dormice.
Then Jonah kissed him.
His lips were soft, softer than they had any right to be. His hip and shoulder were warm under Gil’s hands, his breath a gentle sigh as he stretched up to reach Gil’s lips.
Despite himself, despite how he knew it was a bad idea (a terrible idea, a dangerous idea, liable to get one or both of them badly beaten at least should anyone find out) he found himself kissing back. His hands moved, arms wrapping around the shorter man until they were pressed together, his neck bent so he could kiss him easier, and the shaky moan that came from Jonah’s chest made his gut twist pleasantly. He felt Jonah’s hands on his shoulders, felt the warmth of a tongue against his lips and made a soft sound in his throat. He parted his lips, let Jonah in and tasted the rum they had been drinking, heat blooming somewhere in his stomach.
It had been so long since he had-
And then it was over. Jonah tore himself away and turned to face the bed, his back to Gil and the door. It looked like he was shaking.
“I’m- I’m sorry. I… just go.”
Gil stood for a moment, lips tingling, his hands still halfway raised where he had been holding on to the man. He could see the tremor in Jonah’s hands as he folded his jacket. The urge to step forward, to reach out and take Jonah in his arms again struck him like a mule kick to the stomach.
Jonah whirled, something cold and broken in his eyes. “Please, Mister Favor, go! Leave me!”
Gil shut his mouth, swallowed, and turned away. The door shut behind him with a click that was almost deafening in the quiet hallway. He went back down the stairs and to the saloon across the street, eyes glancing up to the dark window where Jonah’s room was. The lamp was doused. The curtains were shut.
“Everything alright, boss?” Rowdy asked when he walked in and sat down.
“Mm.”
Rowdy didn’t look convinced. Gil didn’t blame him.
“Well if you change your mind, I’m all ears.”
He took the beer from in front of his ramrod and drank deeply, hoping that if he could wash the taste of Jonah from his mouth he could somehow get rid of the warmth of him too, and forget the broken pain in his eyes.
Rowdy didn’t complain as the drink was taken. He waved the bartender over and ordered another, rubbed his cheek with one hand and drummed his fingers on the wooden bar top.
“Somethin’ just happened. I don’t know… it probably ain’t gonna mean anything but-” Gil shook his head and felt a sigh work it’s way up his throat. He felt dazed. “I don’t know.”
Rowdy frowned, his eyes far too keen for a man who had spent the better half of the day in the saloon. “What do you mean?”
“Not here.”
He followed Gil from the saloon, the questions he was obviously holding in clear on his face.
When Gil explained what had happened, the surprise Gil had expected didn’t come.
“I mean, he didn’t exactly hide it, boss.”
Gil stared at his ramrod. “Uhh…”
“You mean, you really didn’t notice?” Rowdy raised an eyebrow. “Come on, boss, you can’t be that dense.”
Had it been any other moment, Gil would have considered smacking Rowdy on the back of the head for the comment. As it was, he just stared down at his boots. “I… I really didn’t notice. But now I know, it’s hard not to.”
They walked through the darkened town and stopped by the stable. Rowdy glanced at him a little nervously, the expression strange on his usually cute face. “I know it ain’t my place, but I feel I gotta say something. You be careful with him. He’s-”
“Older than you,” Gil interrupted with a small smile. “Than me, too, by a few years.”
“Let me finish!”
Gil raised his hands, suitably admonished.
“He ain’t like us. This,” Rowdy gestured to the town around them, “this ain’t his life! He should be in some city sippin’ fancy tea with his pinky- well, his left pinky sticking up.”
“I know, Rowdy. I know.” He rubbed his face, fingers lingering on his lips for a moment. “You coming back to camp?”
Rowdy nodded.
Gil glanced back over his shoulder as the rode away, eyes finding the little hotel room. Hopefully Jonah would sleep the memory away. He wouldn’t, he was sure he’d spend most of the night thinking about it, but… maybe Jonah would.
