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“Looking good Mr Matthews.” Dutch greets, bowing to the man as he reaches for his hand, laying a kiss to his knuckles.
“You aint too bad yourself Mr Van der Linde” Hosea smiles, “I guess.”
“You ‘guess’?!” Dutch throws a hand to his chest in mock hurt.
“You wound me my dear!” They share a grin before Dutch turns to grab the pomade and stand in front of the mirror.
“What are you doing?” Hosea asks, looking at Dutch in the mirror from over his shoulder.
“Gotta complete the look, Hosea.” Dutch answers, slicking up his fingers as he begins rolling the sides of his moustache into little flicks.
“You look like Trelawny.” Hosea deadpans, “Even got the hat.”
“Well, that’s because I stole it my dear.” Dutch laughs, looking at himself in the mirror again.
“I look damn good.”
“Sure Dutch.” Hosea rolls his eyes, walking away.
“Cute Hosea, real cute.”
“I know.” Hosea smiles sweetly at him and Dutch shakes his head.
“Before I forget,” Dutch jogs across the room to grab something from the desk, “I got us these.”
He holds out his hand, presenting two matching faux flowers.
“Fooor?” Hosea raises a brow and Dutch chuckles, walking over to catch a hand in his lapel.
“Our suits.” Dutch says simply, pining the boutonniere into his lapel. He strokes the fabric down flush again once he’s done.
Hosea takes the spare flower and moves to pin it against Dutch, he stands with his hands lightly gripping Dutch’s coat once he’s done, gazing up at him.
Dutch looks down at Hosea, with the man not wearing his usual boots their height difference had become that more prominent, and they both smile.
Hosea stands on his toes to lay a small kiss against the corner of Dutch’s mouth before he lets go and moves away.
“Lets get this night over with shall we?”
“Lead the way Old Girl.”
Dutch follows close behind, appreciating the way the suit hugs Hosea’s body in a way his usual wardrobe didn’t. If it wasn’t for the fact that he could see a grumpy Bill, John and Arthur stood over the way, Dutch could almost imagine that they were going to take a night for themselves.
“Gentlemen.” Hosea greets, “Are you boys ready to bump shoulders with uptight social climbers?”
All he gets in response is grumbles and pouts.
“Come now, you’re acting like children.” Dutch laughs before he looks over at john who’s fussing over Arthur’s clothes.
“John, leave the boy alone, you’ll see him later.” Arthur looks relieved when John finally stops needling him.
“I’m just glad it aint me.” John laughs, walking away.
“Imma shoot him.” Arthur grumbles, toeing at the ground.
“No you aint.” Hosea laughs.
“How come yous two have them flowers?” Bill gestures between Dutch and Hosea. But the pair ignore him, walking off towards the stagecoach were Lenny waits.
“Are we supposed to have them Arthur?”
Arthur sighs, “No Bill.”
“Well why not?”
“It’s just a thing they do.”
“But-”
“Let’s go Bill.”
“These damn pants are too tight.” Bill grumbles, pulling at the taught fabric at his crotch. Hosea leans out of the way when Bill’s elbow comes his way.
“It would help if you actually bought them in your size.” Hosea says, frowning at him.
“I got the same size as Arthur?”
“You’re a fool.” Hosea says with a long-suffering sigh. Dutch and Arthur laughing does nothing but causes him to frown more.
“Oh cheer up Old Girl.” Dutch laughs, stretching his leg across the coach to bump their shoes together.
Hosea looks up at him and Dutch chuckles again upon seeing the look on his face.
“Say Hosea,” Bill begins, and Hosea’s eyes almost hurt with how hard he rolls them, “Why does Dutch call you Old Girl?”
Dutch snorts before coughing into the crook of his elbow, Arthur bites his lip to save Hosea further embarrassment and Hosea, Hosea glares at the floor.
“How about we stop talking.” He mutters.
And they do for about 20 minutes, before Dutch feels the need to speak.
“We are ridiculous, I mean look at us!” Dutch laughs and the others join in. It really was quite a sight to see them go from their usual get ups to three pieces, crawling out from the swamp to integrate with the masses of stuck-up pounces.
“Utterly.” Hosea agrees, coughing.
“I aint ever been to a ball in my life!” Arthur exclaims.
“Nor have I, if I’m being honest.” Dutch reaches down to grab a bottle form under the seat, four glasses balanced in his other hand.
“I used to quite often.” They look over to Hosea, Dutch knows this, had been on the receiving end of Hosea’s excited rambles when the man had finally returned; would look over each trinket or wad of cash Hosea produced from his pockets or bag if he had chosen to go all dolled up.
“There could be fine pickings.” He smirks while Arthur nods in agreement.
Dutch laughs,
“Oh, no, no, no, no. No pickpocketing tonight.” He ignores the frown Hosea gives him, “We are here to make real contacts.”
“What kind of contacts?” Arthur asks and Dutch shrugs, handing out the glasses. “Well, I don’t know, we’ll find what we can. All I know for sure is we are going to a party at the mayor’s house and the guest of honour is the worst crook in town.” Everyone laughs again and Dutch continues, “I am sure we will find something.”
“Okay.” Arthur shrugs, raising his glass. They cheer with a short yell as the wagon slows to a stop, the sound of music and distant voices floating on the wind.
“Gentlemen, shall we?” Dutch opens the door and climbs out, followed by Hosea, Bill and then Arthur.
Arthur nods to Lenny as the boy rides off.
Dutch hands over an invitation to the man stood at the gate, watches as he reads over it and then glances between the four of them.
“I’m afraid the mayor does not allow guns at official function… not after last year’s incident.”
“But of course!” Dutch hands his gun to the man, then turns to look at the trio behind him with a tilt of his head, a silent command and everyone sighs, fishing their guns from their waist bands.
Hosea is first to hand his over, glancing at Dutch as he does, soon followed by Bill and Arthur as they watch their guns be thrown in a chest.
“Luca here,” He motions to another man, “will take you to Mr Bronte, I believe he is expecting you.”
Dutch looks around the crowd of people, rich socialites and the sorts, all mingling pretending to like one another. Dutch sees through the lot of them, knows deep down they’re all after the same thing and all are willing to step on whoever they need to get what they want.
His eyes land on Arthur, the boy disappearing up the stairs and along the building, tailing a man in a white coat.
Atta boy. Dutch thinks, proudly.
Then he sees Hosea, stood out of the way by the table full of food, picking at bits and pieces that catch his eye. Dutch smiles, heading over dodging through the hoard of bodies.
“What are you doing?” Dutch whispers into Hosea’s ear once he’s close enough, he smiles as the man frightens, dropping the little pastry in his hand.
“Dutch.” Hosea scolds, a frown on his face as he turns around, forced to look directly up due to how close they are to each other.
“Take a step back, would you?”
“’course.”
“What would you say to a dance, my dear?” Dutch asks and Hosea looks at him. He can see the way Hosea’s eyes soften sadly as he tilts his head.
“You know we can’t Dutch.”
“We can’t here.” Dutch corrects as he turns away and he looks over his shoulder.
“You coming?” Hosea glances around before he nods, face lighting up with a secret smile and he follows behind the man.
Once they’re far enough from the commotion, Dutch offers up his hand, wiggling his fingers in invitation. Hosea takes it gladly, and the walk just a bit further where they’d be hidden in the shadows but could still clearly hear the music.
“Can I have this dance?” Dutch asks again, bowing his back before straightening.
“You may.” Hosea laughs, as Dutch pulls him close.
“you’re a fool.”
“Perhaps.” Dutch sighs, resting one hand around his side, the other stays interlocked with Hosea’s.
Hosea lifts his own hand to rest it on Dutch’s shoulder. And they waltz, feet moving in a long-known rhythm as they work with one another, stepping and turning with no rush. They simply enjoy holding each other.
“You learn anything?” Dutch asks, swaying their bodies as he holds Hosea out to twirl. Hosea laughs as he does so before moving back into Dutch’s body.
“Yeah, had an interesting talk with this feller. There’s a lot of money that passes through here. Big bank too. What about you? You learn anything?”
Dutch laughs, still guiding their steps, “Indeed. Learnt that I hate it here and I hate these people.”
Hosea laughs too, a light high thing that sounds better than any song Dutch has heard or ever will hear.
“Oh Dutch.” Hosea sighs, dropping Dutch’s hand as he slides his arms up to wrap around the man’s neck, leaning forward to rest his head against Dutch’s collarbone.
Dutch adjusts his hands, lowering them to the small of Hosea’s back as they move in a slow sway.
Something had to be said about how they committed countless crimes everyday with multiple audiences without another thought but this, this display of pure love between the two of them, had to be hidden away as if it were a dirty secret.
Dutch glances at the light that leaked into their spot from aside the house and sighed.
It was one thing dying because you were fighting the laws of civilization. It was another thing entirely dying for simply loving another.
“What you thinking about?” Hosea whispers, almost afraid of breaking this rare secret moment.
Dutch smiles sadly, looking down at the crown of the man’s head.
“Everything and nothing at all.” He admits and Hosea lets out a breathy laugh, looking up. Dutch feels the need to gasp when his wet eyes look into his with such adoration.
“That is a very Dutch answer.” Hosea says simply with a smile.
They had stopped swaying, he’s not sure when, but they simply stand entwined with each other.
“I love you.” Dutch says.
“I know” Hosea sighs when Dutch looks away, he runs his fingers through the hair at the base of his skull.
“Hey,” Dutch looks at him again, “I love you too, you fool.”
They look at each other for a moment, everything around them has faded into the distance.
A loud whistle and then a crack force them to jump apart, hearts facing.
“Was that a gunshot?” Dutch asks, panicked.
But Hosea shakes his head, staring up with eyes wide in wonder.
“Dutch look!” And he does, staring at the sky as another loud whistle cut through the air before a crack and the sky lights up with bright pinks and blues.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Dutch laughs looking down as Hosea still stares up at the sky in amazement. His chest is filled with warmth as he watches the man, he throws an arm around Hosea’s shoulders and pulls him into his side and he looks up again.
They watch the fireworks from their personal safe haven, sharing each other’s warmth. Dutch cant help but glance down at Hosea, the man’s joy was contagious.
“We should get going soon, Arthur will no doubt be looking for us.”
Hosea nods but rests his head against Dutch’s side, reaching up to grasp the hand around his shoulders.
“Just a little bit longer though.”
Dutch smiles, “Of course ‘sea.”
Dutch looks beside him at Hosea, the man close and staring at the ground as they make their way to the balcony they were to meet Arthur and Bill at. Hosea looks tired, simply going with the motions as he follows Dutch, it had been long day and being around so many people never failed to tire the lot of them out.
The climb the stairs to see Bill bitching to Arthur while Arthur just tried his hardest to ignore him.
“Hello boys.” Dutch greets, and Bill turns to them.
“When we getting out of here Dutch. These shoes are awful. These people are awful.” Bill complains.
“We got everything we need?” Dutch asks and Arthur pats his over his chest.
“Good. Then we can go.”
They follow Dutch through the building, Hosea giving a brief run down of what he’s learnt from the night albeit sounding more like a tired mumbling.
They walk up to the men who had greeted them hours prior.
“Our guns please, gentlemen.” Dutch asks and the man bends down to the chest to retrieve them.
One by one, they’re handed their weapons back and walk back to the coach.
“Alright, let’s get in and go back home.” they climb into the coach, enjoying the chance to finally sit down.
Unlike before, Arthur sits beside Bill while Hosea takes his seat bedside Dutch.
“This aint mine.” Bill says, holding out the gun.
“Ah, that’s mine.” Dutch says, “I’ve got yours Arthur.”
“Hosea’s,” Arthur says, offering it back.
“Dutch. .” He takes Bill's from Hosea’s loose grip and hands it back to the man. He decides to keep a hold onto Hosea’s as well. The man doesn’t even seem to register that he doesn’t have it.
“I aint ever felt so awkward in all my life.” Bill starts after a couple minutes of silence, “All them folk, all so pleased with themselves and- Hey, Hosea’s gone sleep!” Dutch looks down at the man besides him and indeed, he was passed out, slumped against his side with his face slack and small breaths leaving his nose.
Dutch smiles, looking back up and over to Arthur as he fishes something from the inside of his jacket.
“Here’s them papers I took.” He leans over to give to to Dutch and Dutch takes it, careful not to shift too much.
“Anybody see you take this?” He asks, unfolding them.
“I don’t think so.” Dutch nods,
“Good.”
He feels Hosea shift beside him again, looks down as he watches him tuck his legs under himself, taking up the whole seat as he pushes himself further into Dutch’s side.
It was something Arthur was long used to, growing up with the pair for 20 years this was far from the worst evidence of their relationship he’s seen. He can’t remember the number of times he’s accidently walked in on the pair.
He’s just grateful for the fact that he can stretch his legs out with Hosea’s legs no longer in the way. And he does just that, slumping in the seat, relaxing as the coach rocks.
He can see Bill at the corner of his eyes, still looking at the men, watching as Dutch wraps an arm around Hosea’s shoulders and settles down himself. His eyes close as he leans against the side of the coach, Arthur isn’t 100% sure if the man is actually asleep or if he is just resting his eyes. He looks peaceful though and that’s enough Arthur decides.
“You boys look like you had fun.” Susan laughs as she swings open the coach door. She had felt the need to check up on them when young Lenny had road in and simply left the coach and everyone inside to themselves.
She wished she had Arthur’s camera on her now at the sight.
All four of them are slumped over snoring. Bill against one side, mouth wide open. Arthur closest to the door she opened, head tucked against his chest. Dutch leaning against the side while Hosea lays on him.
“Boys!” She yells and Arthur startles, jumping from his seat with a yell.
“Jesus woman.”
“Mr Marston’s been wondering when you’d be getting back.”
“’course he has.” Arthur rolls his eyes, climbing out the coach.
Susan watches him go, stretching as he crosses camp.
She looks back inside the coach, Bill hasn’t shifted, and she looks at the pair cuddled up to each other.
Things really don’t change all that much. She thinks as she reaches in and grabs Dutch’s ankle before jerking it about. Dutch wakes with a definitely manly shriek, staring at her with a look of betrayal.
“What the fuck.” He deadpans and she just grins at him. Hosea still hadn’t moved.
“Jesus Dutch, what’d you do to him?”
Dutch looks down at Hosea and shifts him.
“I didn’t do nothing. It was a long night.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“Did you need something Susan?” Dutch asks, staring at her.
“Nope, just wanted to make sure you weren’t all dead.” She says and walks off.
Dutch rolls his eyes, turning to Hosea.
“You’re going to have to wake up Old Girl.” He says stroking Hosea’s hair out of his face.
“Don’t.” The man grumbles and Dutch laughs.
“I can carry you, but you need to shift so I can actually get up and out.”
Hosea groans, sitting up and Dutch moves out from beneath him, careful not to strip over Bill’s boots.
“I don’t need you to carry me.” Hosea mumbles, following Dutch out of the coach.
“Well alright, but if you trip even once, I’m picking you up.”
“I won’t trip Dutch, I’m a grown ass man-” Hosea cuts himself off as his foot catches a rock and he stumbles.
Dutch gives him a look, eyebrow raised.
“Don’t.” Hosea says, holding his hand up to shut him up. He does however stand still and accept his fate as Dutch bends down and hooks his arms behind his knees and back, lifting him effortlessly off the ground.
“See, now aint this easier?”
“Shut up Dutch.”
Dutch just grins, heading towards the house.
By the time they reach the top floor of the manor, Hosea is passed out again, limp in his arms.
Dutch laughs as he notices the remains of Arthur’s suit strewn about on the banister as if the man couldn’t wait long enough to get out of the thing and back into his cotton shirts and riding pants.
He hears Arthur complaining about the night to John through the propped open door of his room and shakes his head.
Kids.
Dutch toes the door open to his and Hosea’s room and lays the man on the bed. Hosea doesn’t even stir.
Dutch sighs knowing how grouchy Hosea would be if he woke up still in a tight fitting suit, and begins carefully manoeuvring the man so that he could strip him of his coat, waistcoat, and vest. He drops them on the floor and lays Hosea back down.
He’s starting on Hosea’s trousers when the man wakes, mumbling a sleepy,
“What’s going on?”
Dutch shushes him, “Just getting you out of your trousers.”
“Mmm nooo.” Hosea whines, pushing his hands away.
“What do you mean no?”
“Too tired. Wait ‘til morning.”
And Dutch smiles in understanding, pulling his pants and draws down and off, successfully stripping him as Hosea moaned.
“Ain’t nothing happening tonight Old Girl. I’m just trying to get you out your clothes so you can sleep properly.”
“I’ll sleep in mm clothes.” Hosea mumbles, rolling onto his side.
Dutch laughs as Hosea dramatically shuffles up to the headboard.
“You’re already naked, Dear.” Dutch says, moving to strip himself, a feat that proves to be ten times easier than stripping the other man.
Hosea worms his way under the covers, pouting at Dutch.
“Why are you still up.”
“Yes, yes! Give me a chance, I need to put up our stuff.”
He frowns when he picks up Hosea’s disregarded pants, finds the pocket full with something.
Dutch takes whatever it was out of the pocket and laughs when he sees a wad of bills.
“Where did you get this?”
“I stole it.” Hosea smiles into the pillow.
“Of course, you did.” Dutch shakes his head, throwing it on the desk along with their pocket watches before moving onto the bed.
Hosea is clinging to him in the next instant.
“I thought I said no pickpocketing?”
“Was boring.” Is the only answer he gets as Hosea melts into his side.