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Word Count: 462 AO3
Written for @pulpmusicalsfortnight2024 Day 6: Confession. Once again, thank you to my phenomenal beta and the event organizer, @snarky-wallflower! I would also like to thank @sparrowfox-writes for the use of her Ellen Austin OC, Vincent Jordan! (Cosmo Rhodes is mine),
When Morgan joins their nightly card game, he appears troubled. His brows are furrowed and he fiddles with the scarf around his neck.
Vincent pulls out the empty chair beside him and pats the seat. "Come sit, friend! Tell us what has you so deep in thought!"
"Aye, it's a rare and dangerous occurrence," Amos adds, "We ought to know what to brace for."
The others laugh, but Morgan doesn't rise to the bait, merely taps the cards Cosmo dealt him on the table.
"As you all well know," Morgan begins, in the same teasing lilt he uses during his performances, "I am a rampant homosexual and blatant enemy of delicate sensibilities and public decency everywhere-"
Cosmo wolf whistles and the rest of his friends cheer. Morgan holds out his hands, calling for silence. “Please, hold your applause.” He almost manages to keep the smirk off his face. “As I said, this is common knowledge. So tell me why I keep thinking about Rose Stratford–” He doesn't even get to finish the sentence, cut off by the clamor of his crew all talking over him.
“She managed to turn your head?”
“It must be the end of days!”
“What is the world coming to!”
“You weren't swayed by John?” Elijah manages to ask over the shouting, “Or Samuel? He's...” A blush dusts his cheeks. “Quite easy on the eyes.” Morgan hadn't known about that. He fully intends to interrogate Elijah later, but right now, Morgan has his own crisis to focus on.
“And believe me, I have greatly appreciated the view,” he says, with a rakish smirk that has gotten him into quite a few men's beds. Here, it merely earns him scoffs and eye rolls. “But something about Rose...”
“It was the printing press plate, wasn't it?” Cosmo says knowingly. It is the voice of a man who noticed the definition in her biceps when she hoisted that plate in the air above her head, showing off her favorite weapon to the entire crew.
“I bet she could kill me with that thing,” Morgan says dreamily, to raucous laughter.
“Is violence a draw for you?” Vincent teases. “You do seem to have quite a penchant for getting into fights.”
Amos huffs. “And dragging us along to save your sorry ass!”
“But you look so good doing it!” Morgan exclaims, “I nearly swooned when you tackled that guy off of me!” He presses an exaggerated smooch to Amos's cheek. “My hero!”
Morgan gets shoved off his chair entirely for that one. But the freeing laughter and the bright red expression on Amos's face make it worth it.
It is the last card game they ever play together.
During the nightmare to come, Morgan sometimes wishes he could live in that memory forever.