Chapter Text
It was a little treat seeing White be so ravenous. If the hot dog eating contests have taught Black anything, White actually had the ability to match his own appetite, but his rival had more self control around food. Where Black followed the scent of freshly baked pie like a bloodhound, White followed flowers like a bee. This forest actually had a few gorgeous flower patches scattered about that he could take White to… if he could.
Black nodded along as he ate his own sandwich next to White on the log, listening to him recall some Boy Scout adventures he had when he was young. How much of it was overexaggerated, Black couldn’t tell, but he did remember White being an infuriatingly excellent student as a kid when they briefly went to the same school.
It took a bit of prying, but Black decided to open up about his intentions for taking the photos. He fidgeted with the marshmallow stain on his clothes, nervous about sharing something equally so personal and yet frivolous in terms of valuable intel.
“Did you ever wish on them as a kid?” White asked, clearing his hands of crumbs.
Brushing some ants off his pant leg, Black pondered for a moment. “If I did, I can’t remember what I wished for. Probably something stupid.”
White snickered playfully, rummaging through the food bag. “Planning to wish for anything tonight?”
“Haven’t thought about it… Why?”
“Might come true,” White shrugged casually, pulling out the rolled oats and dried apricots.
“Did you make a wish tonight?” Black questioned, watching White prepare… something.
“Yes—but you’re not supposed to tell other people your wish, so don’t ask,” White stated quickly, cheeks lightly dusted with a barely visible pink tint in the dim lighting. He was meticulously picking out some of the seeds and nuts from the trail mix.
“Then can I ask what you’re doing?”
“Preparing muesli for breakfast.” White sighed, stirring the nuts slightly in the small pot to roast them. “Wish you packed milk for overnight oats-style, but oatmeal works too.”
Black perked up at attention, “Are you planning to stay overnight?”
White’s shoulders sagged slightly, “I guess.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” White interrupted firmly. It was like an apology; a reassurance.
Black felt his face warm, and it seemed the feeling was mutual from how White stiffened, surprised. Hastily Black blurted, “Are you willing to sleep under the tarp together though?”
Expectedly, White was more hesitant about this. “Uh, is there only one?”
“Yeah, but I’ll be in the space blanket, so no worries.”
“Can I have it?”
“Wh—” Black thought about it for a moment. White’s outfit was dirty anyways, but it seemed the man still cared. It was no skin off his own back; that thing made him hot and sweaty in the heat anyways. “Sure, do you need bug spray?”
White nodded and Black retrieved it accordingly for White to put on after he finished making the muesli. The man in white asked if there was space to store it, and Black thought to himself before coming up with an idea. Heart thumping, he emptied the remaining clean water from his thermos onto a cloth before handing the container over. As White took it, Black reached over with the wet cloth slowly.
“Want to clean your blood?” he asked shyly.
“What?” White dabbed his fingers around his nose. “Oh, right.”
When White leaned forward, expecting to take the cloth, Black instead delicately rubbed away the dried blood for him. Indulging himself slightly, Black partially cupped White’s cheek while scrubbing at a particularly stubborn spot. Goosebumps rose on his skin as the other man’s breath hitched, and Black couldn’t help but stare at those lips that so often hurled insults and taunts at him. Tonight they’d spoken softly, shared a meal with him, and were now slightly parted with warm breaths that tickled his palm.
“... Black?”
Should he make a wish after all? “Hmm?”
“...” White silently wrapped a hand around his arm. It wasn’t to push him away though, it seemed more like an anchor.
“I…” Black gulped. So close yet so far. “I wish we could spend more time together like this…”
“It just became easier to set traps instead, I suppose. We never got any particularly useful intel while mingling with each other,” White chuckled nervously, looking disappointed yet relieved.
Black felt the same as he pulled away, though it was coupled with a feeling of rejection. “We could grab a drink once in a while like before… I’ll try to poison you only 50% of the time.”
“Make it 100% so I can reverse it every time,” White teased before starting to pour the muesli into the empty thermos. “I’m better at poisoning than you. It’s to be expected, since it was part of my Masters.”
The two of them talked about their college years for a while and bickered about who had a better education before White yawned, grabbing the bug spray to start applying it. Black packed the burner and muesli before getting situated on one side under the tarp.
… There really wasn’t much room.
White took off his boots and placed them right-side up next to Black’s before setting the flashlight on the ground and shimmying in as well. He wrapped himself with the space blanket quickly, and Black felt his heart skip a beat from how White’s hand grazed his side. The man’s fingers were decorated in white bandages that matched the ones over his own hand.
“Should be all set…” White muttered, retrieving the flashlight from the ground and turning it off. Black could hear him place it off to the side.
There was some shuffling as he heard the leaves crunch from his rival rolling further away to put more distance between them. His throat felt dry. “Got a plan for tomorrow?”
White was reluctant to answer, “Obviously I want to head home, but I’ll go downstream first; see if I can salvage any of my stuff.”
“Quit being a baby about it, I know you have way more at your base.”
“You threw away my 1969 Colt Python! That means it’s from before they started getting boresighted at the factory! Do you realize how valuable that is!?” White ranted, throwing up a fuss as he rolled back over to face Black.
“Your fault for bringing something so valuable all the way out here,” Black snickered.
He received a swift kick to the thigh, and retaliated with a jab to White’s ribs. Their little slap fight turned into enough tussling to shake the tarp until it collapsed on them, and they found themselves giggling as they panted, limbs entangled with the space blanket acting as a flimsy barrier. White held up the tarp for Black as he put the stick back in place, and they both settled back down quietly. This time, White didn’t move away.
Tuckered out, Black let his eyes fall closed as he smiled. “Goodnight, White.”
“... Goodnight, Black.”
Black shouldn’t have been surprised, but when he woke up alone, a pang of sadness shot through him all the same. One-night stands were White’s bread and butter, even if what they had last night didn’t count whatsoever.
He blearily opened his eyes, feeling shitty from how late the two slept even though he’d taken a nap beforehand. The hard forest floor didn’t help as he stretched, feeling his back crack like the fallen branches. There was a moment of confusion as he flexed his hand, feeling the bandages stretch to accommodate the motion. He rubbed his cheek on them briefly, remembering the diligent look in White’s eyes as he patched Black up unprompted.
Rolling over, he crawled out of the tarp and picked up on the faint nutty smell in the air before he put on his boots. Rubbing his eyes as the sunlight painted his face in warmth, Black looked over at where the Trangia burner laid. It was no longer on, but on top—still nice and warm when he lifted the saucepan cover—was the muesli cooked into a nice oatmeal. Black smiled brightly as he ate it, thankful it wasn’t poisoned.
Next time they meet, he should ask if White wanted company on his trip to Japan.