Work Text:
Tangled, greasy red knots were twirled with a pale hand speckled red and orange: nervous. Green gaze set on the sat figure ahead, watching the other man’s back rise and fall as slow as a fire dies out on a log. Sucking in a deep breath to fill his chest puff with courage, Sean steadied himself full of pronounced swagger as he ambled over to take a seat on the log next to the reading cowboy.
“Oi Lenny, ya aren’t mad at me for not readin, yeah?”
A casual inquiry from the Irish, comfortably wrapping a lanky arm around the other and fitting close together like a completed puzzle to humorous youth. He settled in close, both watching the wild grass tickle their shins, able to share in each breath taken in by the beautiful. Their noses were mere inches apart when Lenny turned his vision to Sean — mainly due to Sean’s domestic tendency to lean himself so close — and when Lenny grinned, they chuckled in sync.
“Sean, if I was the only one who Didn’t get mad at you when you accidentally scared half the horses away with one of your /elegant/ drinking stunts, why would I get mad at you now?”
Intelligent eyes, the soft shade of a warm hearth, fixated themselves to Sean, always staring as if he had said or had done something incredibly extraordinary — so inspiring that eyes of such beauty would be captivated by him. Those eyes made Sean slower with his words, taking time from the usually witty snaps to frantically search for more, something really impressive to keep those eyes on him forever.
What he managed was meager.
“ ‘Spose ya point! But you not gettin fussed about that AWESOMELY o’mazin light myself on fire trick was ONLY ‘cus you got a good eye for the creative, o’right?”
They grinned after this, Sean’s toothy and toothless while Lenny’s a quirked smile that lifted a cheek, then shared loud laughs that brought the two even closer to each other as they reveled in undetermined yet understood hysterics; only Lenny’s book falling from his lap and to the grass could tone down their laughter.
Both bent to pick up the book, with Lenny’s reaching first and Sean’s over his: a pause that lasted no longer than Uncle’s work ethic, but somehow managing to feel longer than one of Dutch’s endless spiels over getting rich. Sean retreated both his hand from Lenny’s and himself — just a smidge as he scooted the slightest bit away, feeling as if that incident was the clarification for noticed space. An awkward exchange was necessary to speak over the moment, with Sean starting first:
“ Damn, beat me to it- guess ya really like reading, huh?”
“ Mhm, just /had/ to save this old dusty book from getting a speck of dirt. I don’t know what I would do if this... priceless, spotless item got dirty-“
To emphasize his playful sarcasm, Lenny showcased the worn book and all its stained glory. This, at least, helped to resume the chuckling that was missed for four seconds. Together they sat and giggled until Sean found it a reasonable time to get a move on before Hosea saw them and got on him for ‘plotting some foolish prank with Lenny again’ (calls HIM a bad influence! Can ya BELIEVE that?! Sean Macguire? A bad influence?? OH THE INJUSTICE). However, just as Sean began to scoot further away from the log as he unslung his arm from around the other’s shoulders and began to announce his departure with a hearty,
“Well, Mate, I’m glad we can carry on, even Without me readin skills!”
Lenny placed a delicate hand over his —hovering just enough to not seem forceful but close enough to communicate a polite wait.
“Sean,”
His voice was earnest, and his voice alone was enough to make the Irishman resume his spot. Lashes low and voice hushed with its regular whisper of delighted explanation, Lenny began,
“I hope you know I would Never be mad at you for not reading . I would only be sad for you refusing.”
He retreated his hand from Sean’s, not out of anxious hurry like the other had beforehand, but to place his hand back on the book — allowing Sean to leave again.
But Sean didn’t.
Cocking his head to give Lenny a whimsical head tilt of confusion.
“Sides sad ‘n mad, what’s the big difference between ‘not’ and ‘refusin?’ I mean- those two things are basically - the same two things, Len?”
Lenny gave a gentle laugh at this, but unlike most others who laughed at Sean, he went on to give a proper correction to the gunslinger’s confident statement.
“They can be grouped together for a similar meaning, both that can be sometimes used interchangeably to describe a similar thing. But the difference between the two is that the word ‘not’ is much more broad than using the word ‘refusing’. “
He waits a patient pause, looking for some sign of recognition from the Irish. He got none, so he hurried for an example.
“Like- you can say that you’re not drinking coffee today and people won’t pay it mind because they think you’re just not in the mood right now. It doesn’t sound like a specific fuss is going on with you. But by saying you Refuse to drink coffee today makes it sound like you would rather drink your own urine than coffee today, and why? People don’t know, but they might assume you’re in a mighty sour mood. Using the word ‘refusing’ over the word not, although they can be both used in the same sentence and make sense, is more Powerful than the word not. It holds more weight, more... more meaning.”
There was something about Lenny, about his gentle yet strong enthusiasm toward others, his passion, his determination, his vigor, his kindness. His excited movements that really drew his conversationalist in, his soft trilling voice that sang a song so sweet yet so enticing. There was something about Lenny that made Sean understand. And to communicate that understanding, Sean nodded, as well as his shaggy red mini-mane when its bounces followed the vigorous movement.
“Alrighty then, ‘n what specific meanin does refusing mean now? In that- that sentence you just said? Before the- yeah?”
Lenny’s brows bounced up, expression lighting up with laughter before he placed a polite hand over to cover it, control his energy. How Sean wanted to just... cup Lenny’s hands in his own and let him just let his laughter loose like he’s seen and loved often. But he didn’t. He let Lenny shy himself back down from his airy paradise, watching his lashes lower as those dark eyes inched away from Sean and to the loose spine of his book.
“Well, you refusing to read is a lot more powerful then just... not. You’re not gonna read right now because it’s difficult and new and possibly boring, I can understand that and I can wait till a better time, but refusing? Refusing is stubborn, and trust me, we all know you’re stubborn, but it’s a stubbornness because of a belief of yours that I- disagree with .”
Sean’s own scruffy brows rose at this, eyes widening. He knew never to mistake Lenny gentle kindness as timidity, refusing to correct someone out of fear of upsetting them. If Lenny disagreed with something, it was probably a bad something.
“And?? What’s that?”
“ well-“
Oh no. Not the second well.
“Sean, I don’t think you’re plain stupid. Silly, yes. Spontaneous, definitely. But Just stupid?”
Oh, it seemed that Lenny CAN be wrong about some things then. The ginger scoffed, lighthearted, disagreeing with that statement automatically.
“I mean, yeah? I am just stupid! Stupid awesome! Stupid is okay! It can be spontaneous ‘n silly! Ya literally just described stupid!”
“ but, I also just literally described fun as well. See? You see these words that can match more than one thing, and you relate it to the first thing you can think matches it, the thing you know, and for you it’s the word Stupid. But-“
But...
and Lenny bent to set the book down on the grass, turned to Sean, and with movements more careful and more loving than an elated honeymooning pair grasping hands, he embraced Sean’s pale, worn hands into his warm ones, not caring for the dirt that coated them or the scars that bore into them, but for the meaning they held to him. He held them close and meticulous, with devotion to all that was love, sweet, gentle, and tender: he held them close. Dark eyes expansive, immersive, they looked at Sean’s pale forest eyes and saw Meaning. Meaning that made Sean silent with their power. Meaning that was above his comprehension, and that was okay. Maybe he’d understand his meaning one day. But when around Lenny, he feels like he understood it more and more. Somehow.
“But there’s so many other w o r d s, Sean. So many words that can describe you. A person is a book. And I don’t think your book is stupid, not at all. It’s Fun.
....
I know- this sounds a little... preachy, but I just.. I just wanted you to know that you- well you always turn into such a confident vender with all your skills except your knowledge, you sell yourself short on that. But I just- I think you- I think you more than that. More capable of more meaning.”
With every new word, he clasped Sean’s hands closer to his chest, as if putting them to his heart would help him understand his feelings without having to tell them. The young man wasn’t just speaking for show, he poured genuine emotion as his waters always did. Pure, powerful, clean emotion. Always enough emotion to startle Sean awake despite not being sleep.
Sheepish but wanting to catch his causal coy, Sean tilted his head and nodded; his freckled face held no mischievous glint as usual, but something softer with a meaning he couldn’t quite decipher out himself. Was it shock? It was true, he hadn’t had a soul speak to him with such fervor for him being more than the entertainer showoff wannabe he was, he never had anyone Refuse to let himself sell short of his intellect, he never had anyone give him such Deeper Meaning before. Before Lenny.
“... well..”
Well well well, Well now /he/ was the one starting his sentences off with well. How well. He chuckled at this, just to himself, but as usual, Lenny understood the same as he did and gave his own giggle despite the serious circumstances surrounding the scene — they always did manage to make a laugh together.
“I think... maybe I got more than just stupid, yeah... but I don’t got smart. That’s just somethin I’m not.... but it’s honestly real sweet o’ you to-“
“Just because you don’t have ‘smart’ doesn’t mean you aren’t smart.”
They both shared in a pause, their hands lowering in surprised synchrony. Lenny, even if he knew his conversationalist was obviously spouting words of pure bull the whole time, would never interrupt with the correct answer until they were done. But now, Now was different. It wasn’t a conversation driven just by logic.
“Sean, you can still be smart without just being called... smart. It’s like- well it’s like the word ‘not’. It’s a broad term. An umbrella that encompasses many smaller words that can fit under it. And those words can be grouped under smart. And I think you’re smart because I have a pretty fine word with a perfect meaning for you. Do you want to know?”
The fact that Lenny asked, gave him the option to decline, was enough to make Sean smile. The praises certainly were appreciated and cherished, but it was always Lenny’s genuine compassion that made Sean love him.
“Ya know I’m never good with waitin’ ”
“ of course you aren’t, Sean . “
Laughter lilted Lenny’s words, made them light, gave them meaning past the words. And made Sean lean over, as he usually does around those he finds comfort in, and kiss the wonderful lips that give so much meaning to words he can’t read.
