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"Are you trying to get yourself killed?!"
Steve looked up at him from where he was sprawled out at the edge of the clearing, struggling with his vambrace. Robin, who had been helping him struggle with the dented piece, stood up and turned to walk away, her own armour only half removed, muttering to herself about how she was not getting involved. He blinked at her retreat before finally daring to look back up at the angry man standing over him.
Jonathan huffed before crouching beside Steve, his far more nimble fingers reaching for the laces. Steve quickly glanced around, but everyone seemed distracted with bringing repair materials to various parts of the Mapleswood that were a little bit worse for wear or helping the other knights and guards. Looking back at Jonathan, he frowned as he realized that Jonathan had pulled his hat forward enough that it was hiding his face as he was ducked down, putting his intense focus on the stupid piece of metal that wouldn't come off Steve's arm.
"I'm not trying to get myself killed," Steve finally answered the question the other boy had asked him.
"Could have fooled me," Jonathan snapped, finally looking back up at him. Steve's eyes widened as he caught sight of how shiny Jonathan's eyes were, how the red of his face wasn't just from anger.
"Oh, Culver," he reached out to quickly rub a thumb under one of Jonathan's eyes to wipe away the wetness.
Jonathan froze for a second before melting, his shoulders shaking with the effort it was taking to not cry. Steve felt his chest tighten as it took everything in him not to reach out and draw Jonathan close. But he would the moment they were back hiding in Steve's little alcove. For now, he would just watch as the one he loved carefully pulled the ruined armour piece away at last.
“Why are you laughing at me?” Steve groaned from where he lay on the ground, squinting at the shape above him.
Jonathan shifted so he was now blotting out the sun, the grin still present on his face, “You came in dead last.”
Steve winced, “Yes?”
“In a potato sack race. Against children.”
Steve pouted, pointing a hand out in a random direction towards where he was pretty sure the rest of the line-up had been, “Those little creatures are fast. Ridiculously fast. Like who allowed that to happen?”
“Steve,” Jonathan's voice was soft as he crouched. The sun shone brightly in Steve’s eyes again, but now he could shift his head as Jonathan came much closer to him, “The sack only came up to your knees. Why did you even participate?”
Steve shifted slightly, letting out a little huff before finally admitting, “Because Robin said I was chicken if I didn’t.”
Jonathan snorted once more, eyes crinkled up in delight. “Steve, you couldn’t even fit both your legs in the sack. You were hopping along with one leg in and one leg on the ground. And you still came in last.”
“I had to make it fair!” Steve protested, joy loosening him as he pushed up slightly on his elbows. “Couldn’t just casually walk to the finish line.”
“No, you’d probably have tripped along the way,” Jonathan stood once again, holding out a hand for Steve to grasp and then pulled him to his feet. “Come on, big guy. Maybe we can find something that you would actually have a chance in. Seeing as potato sack races are completely not your thing.”
“I take offence to that,” Steve protested even as his own grin grew, squeezing Jonathan’s fingers before they had to be dropped as they made their way back towards the rest of the festival.
Jonathan liked how empty Mapleswood got when there was no one else around. When the Marquess left for whatever reason called him away and he took most of the household with him. It didn’t happen often anymore. Nancy had taken more and more of the travel needs on as she trained for a role that may come to her in a year or fifty. It wasn’t everyone by any means. The town and such were still full. But the castle itself was near-empty. It was terrifying at night, Jonathan had been one of three of the kitchen staff left behind and he found himself escaping every chance he had to avoid being stuck in such a large room with the other two and his thoughts.
But, he thought to himself as he spotted the very person he had been looking for from the window he was by, it made him less missed and made it easier to slip away. And slip away he did, long in-grained habits causing him to slip through hidden passages and staying out of sight as much as possible as he made his way down to the closest doorway to the courtyard he had spotted him in. Jonathan stood there, still in the shadows, as he watched Steve chat with a couple of the town kids. It only took a minute before they were sent on their way and Steve turned, smile getting softer as he spotted Jonathan watching him.
“I’m going to take care of you, okay?”
Steve was usually the one who was saying it. Making sure he kept the tiny corner room of the guards' quarters unclaimed so that Jonathan had a place to slip away from the overwhelming mess of the kitchens he lived in. Picking up tiny prizes or treasures from travelling tradesmen or the rare occasion he left Mapleswood to give him. Slipping it into the ears of whomever he needed to to make sure that Jonathan’s little brother could continue learning with Dustin, hopefully, enough to get them both somewhere more brilliant than little ole’ Whilthor Marsh. Roping Robin into the scheme, hoping it was enough to keep people’s questions off of Jonathan and Steve spending any time together in public, so long as Robin was with them as well.
He had to play it carefully. Despite his low status (or, more likely when Steve thought about it, because of it), Jonathan was a prideful individual. He worked the long hours in the kitchen, still questioned half the things Steve got him if he thought they were worth too much, watched Will and the rest of his friends very carefully when he could. He knew how to hide and he knew how to conceal. He didn’t know how to trust nearly as well. He trusted Steve as much as his family, Steve didn’t doubt that. He had learned that Jonathan wouldn’t even be trying half the things that Steve suggested if he didn’t. Or making suggestions of his own. He had trust in Nancy, probably because of how close the two had been growing up before Nancy got sent over to Holland Castle when they were twelve. He was even growing to trust Robin.
But nothing warmed his heart like seeing Jonathan turn that one-minded care and affection that he afforded to his family, and occasionally the rest of the kids, onto him. Steve tended not to let it happen very often. Something he was aware was entirely his own fault. But in the rush of the hall as the other knights got treated for their various injuries from the latest attack, Jonathan had managed to convince whomever had scooped Steve off the field into a quiet corner and sequestered some water and ointments. His injuries weren’t bad, just very painful to clean up. But every time he hissed in pain as Jonathan carefully dabbed at the hole in his side, there was a gentle hush and a soothing touch. Steve was barely aware of Robin, who had miraculously got away uninjured, sitting on his other side and holding his hand in a death grip. Keeping up running commentary regarding what had happened after Steve fell and what was going on just beyond Steve’s fuzzy sight.
Steve felt something press down on the wound, not nearly as bad this time, as another hand came up and cupped the side of his face. He blinked away the fuzziness to make out Jonathan leaning over him, his usual hat missing. “It’s okay, Steve,” he was quiet, keeping from anyone hearing them even as Robin sat in such a way to block off most of the hall from seeing them. “We’ll take care of you. It’s going to be okay.” And Steve knew he had nothing but absolute trust in his lover and his cousin each.