For Now
Cornelius slept fitfully and was awake for the day long before Watt was.
Long before the sun, even. Hypotheticals, irrational fantasies, and worst case scenarios loomed in his mind.
And none of those had anything to do with Watt, who brought along an entirely different stream of thoughts. Hells, they’d kissed.
He’d been kissed by, and kissed in return, Watt Johnson. It was wonderful, heartwarming, and everything Cornelius had ever wanted. It was a kiss to end all others, because surely nothing could be better than that. Except for perhaps … a second kiss.
No. He couldn’t think like that. Watt had been emotional last night, vulnerable and not in his right mind.
He’d wanted comfort, and Cornelius had given it to him.
He should’ve known better, been the responsible one for both their sakes.
But Cornelius hadn’t been in his right mind, either.
He never was, but especially not when it came to Watt.
What would Watt desire in the light of a new day, faced with all the difficulties ahead of them?
Surely not Cornelius, not irritable and arrogant and weak Cornelius.
And if all he wanted was comfort in this difficult time, could Cornelius do it? Could he hide his heart and give Watt what he needed?
He wanted to say yes.
But deep down, he knew he couldn’t.
He couldn’t be with Watt … like that, not without being able to express his love. And if he couldn’t be selfless for the person he loved, because he did love Watt, what right did he have to love him in the first place?
Typical, selfish Cornelius.
It all made his head hurt, but his heart ached worst of all.
The sun had not quite risen when Cornelius climbed out of his hammock, but some bruised light had begun to make way for dawn.
It was just enough to see by, but he slipped a torch into his pocket just in case.
He checked his pistol for moisture or dirt, same as he always did when rising for the day.
He withdrew a small canvas bag that held his secondary outfit and boxer shorts from his pack, then glanced back at Watt.
He was still asleep, his arms wrapped around Maggie’s middle. Did the man ever move in his sleep?
Maggie was awake, sleepily watching Cornelius.
He tried not to feel too hopeful about that, he needed to be the realistic one.
And yet, he couldn’t imagine her dying. He believed if he gave the thought any credence, surely it would come true.
Like a cruel prophecy. And he couldn’t do that to her, or to Watt.
He gave Maggie a half smile, then walked a little ways from camp and relieved himself behind a tree.
Thankfully there was still some paper left, for he didn’t recognize any of the plants around him.
Wiping with an unfamiliar bit of greenery was a gamble to say the least. The canopy was thicker here, and it blocked out most of the sky.
There was more underbrush here too, mostly ferns and struggling saplings.
He thought he could hear water running, and debated investigating the source.
He was already on edge though, and decided to wait for Watt.
He kept an ear out and his gun within reach, and quickly began to change his clothes.
He was grateful that his shorts weren’t too soiled, and that this painful cycle was tapering off to an end.
It was always short, but brutal, and there was no comfort to be found in the middle of nowhere.
In fact, the humidity and heat made it all so much worse.
The pain, the mess, the sweat and everything else inconvenient and infuriating that came with being born with a body like his.
The joints helped, but only one remained. He could endure, for today.
Cornelius had brought two pairs of modified shorts into the wild, not wanting to deal with disposing of cheap pads that were uncomfortable to begin with.
And somehow those made him feel like less than a man, bulky and easier to get hyper fixated on.
The boxers were better, more natural. They were the new sort with rubber in the waistband and bold stripes of color, the fabric a comfortable cotton which was easier for Cornelius to alter than silk.
He’d added more layers of fabric in the crotch area, and cinched the hem around the thighs a little.
It was natural packing, and practical for when unexpected accidents happened.
He'd yet to bleed through them, even during this punishing journey.
He finished changing, rolling his old clothes into a tight ball which he shoved into the canvas bag with a grunt.
The trousers and shirt he wore now had been worn a few times already, and all of his clothes could do with a wash.
Perhaps he and Watt could search for that water, Watt could carry Maggie if he needed to.
Maybe there was a better area to camp nearby.
Of course, staying by the river could attract unwanted attention, so they'd have to stay in the treeline if possible.
Ah, but they were going back.
Right?
When Cornelius returned to camp the sun had risen, and so had Watt.
He’d laid out what remained of his good shirt on the ground and Maggie lay upon it, drinking from water from her dish.
‘Queen of the ,’ Cornelius thought. Watt was stroking a hand down her back and when he saw Cornelius coming, he tentatively smiled.
He smiled with those lips that had felt so wonderful against his.
Lips that had said he cared. That he wanted Cornelius.
“Morning. She’s drinking,” Watt said, gesturing to Maggie with great pride.
Cornelius swallowed, his throat tight. He gave Watt a little smile and knelt down beside him so he could pet her. “That’s good. How you doing, girl?”
Maggie lifted her head, water dripping from her muzzle as she licked his hand.
Cornelius chuckled softly, stroking beneath her chin.
He glanced at the bandage, noting that no blood or otherwise had leaked through to the outside.
That was a good sign, but he couldn’t be sure which direction her wound was turning without looking at it.
Watt glanced between Cornelius and Maggie. “What’s wrong?”
Cornelius blinked, coming back to himself. He shook his head. “Nothing.”
Watt studied him, working his bottom lip between his teeth.
That was new, and treacherous. “Somehow, I don’t believe you.
” Watt reached out, his palm settling against Cornelius’ jaw.
Watt’s thumb rubbed under his eye, and Cornelius inhaled shakily at the unrestrained contact. “Didn’t sleep well, did you?”
“Listen.” Cornelius took Watt’s hand and gently pried it away from his face.
Watt's fingers immediately slid between his. He’d meant to let go, but their joined hands settled between them.
“We need to—” Cornelius cleared his throat, but the damn tension wouldn’t let up.
“We should probably come up with a plan.”
‘Damn coward,’ Cornelius cursed himself inwardly. He couldn't talk about them, not right now. Not while Watt was looking at him like that.
Watt nodded seriously. He shifted his gaze to Maggie, and concern knitted his brows together. He was quiet for so long that Cornelius thought he wasn’t going to speak at all. Make Cornelius lead the conversation. He opened his mouth, but as soon as he spoke, Watt did too.
“You were right—”
“We should keep—”
“Sorry, you go first,” Watt said quickly, blushing.
Cornelius blinked, transfixed by the rising color in Watt’s cheeks, then his words. “Wait. You want to go back?”
Watt shrugged, and the color deepened. He ran his free hand through his hair.
“No. I don’t want to go back. But my stubbornness has …
” He glanced over at Maggie, fingers tightening around Cornelius’.
“If I’d listened to you, even a minute sooner, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt.
We’re low on food, and there’s not much game here.
Even if we took anything down, starting a fire could draw attention. And Maggie, she needs to rest.”
Cornelius hesitated, breathing shallowly. “Do you think we can find our way back?”
Watt studied him for a moment. Then he said, “You don’t want to go back, either.”
“No, but I agree. It’s the logical thing to do.”
Watt’s molten eyes flicked back and forth, tracking every minute expression crossing Cornelius' face.
His gaze was fierce and without rebuke, and Cornelius wondered how much Watt had been restraining himself before.
Did he always look at Cornelius like this?
Or did the kiss change his perspective, and he stared with less abandon now?
“What changed?” Watt asked.
Unbidden, Cornelius’ eyes drifted down to Watt’s lips. He swallowed on reflex, immediately cursing himself. He glanced over at Maggie, then back to Watt, doing his best to focus on the man’s eyes. Eyes creased with humor and age. Damn him.
Cornelius cleared his throat and said, “Maggie’s hurt. And I think … I think if we were looking for the lost city, then we should’ve stayed right where we were, with Severino and the others.”
“But?”
Cornelius sighed, pushing his glasses back up his nose.
“What?”
Cornelius tried to glare at him, but there was no heat in it. He said, “I heard water. When I,” he gestured to his clothes, “went for a walk, I heard water running. And I wondered. That’s all.”
“You wondered.” Watt looked over at Maggie. “You hear that, girl?”
Cornelius rolled his eyes. “Are you trying to be difficult this morning, Watt Johnson?”
Watt grinned, effectively disarming Cornelius. “Can’t let you have all the fun, can I?”
Cornelius laughed. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing.” Watt’s smile broadened, and he shook his head a little. “But I’m wondering now, too.”
Cornelius decided that perhaps he could be Watt’s comfort, if it meant more smiles like these. He could be whatever the man wanted, or needed, and when it was all said and done, well.