Chapter Text
They set off not too long after they had made their introductions. Each horse had a bag of supplies strapped to it, making the journey back to their current camp at a slower pace. Hosea and Dutch rode ahead, discussing schemes or future plans - Arthur hoped they didn’t try to include him, his head was spinning at the thought that the man he had slept with was the newest member of the gang. Arthur had to make boundaries with him, before they got the camp; the last thing he wanted was for anyone to pick up on any kind of awkward energy between them. He shot one last glance at Hosea and Dutch, making sure they were still deep in their conversation, before urging Boadicea to go closer to Taima.
“I just want you t’know, I ain’t like that.” Arthur said, pulling Boadicea into a trot next to Charles. Charles looked at him, his eyebrow arched. He hadn’t said much after their conversation in the saloon - it didn’t feel unnatural for Charles to be quiet, and normally, that would suit Arthur just fine. But right now, having those dark eyes back on him, Arthur felt his face heat up again. More of the night was coming back to him, which he was desperately trying not to think about at the moment.
“Ain’t like what?” Charles asked, his voice genuinely curious.
“What the Hell do you mean, like what? I mean I ain’t one for… going with men like that!” Arthur hissed, glancing up towards Dutch and Hosea in case they had gone quiet. “Last night was one of pure madness, and if I had known you were the feller we were going to meet, I would never have… uh, fallen for your-” he paused, trying to think of any other word than ‘ charm’ . “Your pursuits.”
“... Huh.” Charles said, looking away from Arthur. Silence fell between them, spiking Arthur’s anxiety even more. “Hm. Alright, then.”
“Is that all?” Arthur asked, sending the man a mixed look of anger and surprise.
“Well, yeah. I understand what you mean. If I had known you were, well, you , I would have been more cautious. I’m comfortable with what happened between us, and I won’t say I regret anything, but I won’t mention it to you or anyone in camp, if that is what you’re worried about. I understand the world ain’t built for people like us.”
“I ain’t like that, is what I’m tryin’ to say…” Arthur lied again, tilting his hat down over his eyes to hopefully hide the colour on his cheeks. “But, uh, thank you. For not makin’ it a big deal. I won’t say anything ‘bout you, of course.”
Silence fell between them for a moment - it felt like it went on too long, and Arthur was about to pull Bo away to catch up with Hosea and Dutch, when Charles spoke again.
“But… you know, you came on me, right?” Charles asked, his voice light. Arthur’s head snapped back to look at the man, his embarrassment forgotten.
“I don’t believe so, Mr Smith.”
“No? You don’t remember buying me a shot of whiskey? Commenting on my hair?”
“I did not buy-wait, what did I say ‘bout your hair?”
“That you liked it. I think it was something about being long, like a girl, and then asking if I ever braided it.”
“Lord…” Arthur exhaled sharply and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “I’ll admit, that does sound like me. But you accepted the drink n’ the compliment, so…”
“Of course I did. I liked the look of the cowboy buying it for me.”
The words were said so casually, so confidently , that Arthur couldn’t help but gape at the other man. Charles met his gaze, a small smile on his face. Arthur knew a lot of bold men - look at the gang he was part of, Dutch was hardly a shrinking violet, but this was something different. Charles knew himself to his core, and that both scared and intrigued Arthur. He thought of a response, but couldn’t think so quickly, which seemed to make Charles’ smile more. Thankfully, he was saved from replying.
“Up here, boys!” Hosea called, looking back at them, oblivious to the conversation taking place. They were at the fork in the road, away to turn left into the wooded area that the camp was currently residing in. Arthur could see the smoke from one of the camp fires rising in the air. “Charles, let me introduce you to our ragtag group.”
*
It wasn’t meant to happen again. Arthur’s dreams seemed to return to the night in question, with more and more detail (which led to unfortunate boners that Arthur had to will away), Charles had not made any attempt to… reconnect with him. He was being true to his word, which Arthur appreciated, and also hated.
Dutch had sent them out on a stagecoach robbery after getting a tip off from the station clerk in the town where they had picked up Charles. It wasn’t too surprising that Dutch had them going out so soon after Charles’ arrival - he liked to test the new recruits with Arthur as soon as possible. Charles didn’t seem concerned over the job; in fact, he seemed relieved to get out of the camp for a while. It was a busy place, with lots of new people, and Charles didn’t often stay in groups, preferring to work alone. Arthur could understand - he was equally known for disappearing for up to weeks at a time for sanity purposes.
But, annoyingly, it seemed that the station clerk had also tipped off another gang - the goddamn O’Driscolls. Neither Arthur nor Colm’s goons even bothered to try and stop the stagecoach, once they caught sight of one another. Arthur didn’t even have time to warn Charles, just pulled out his pistol and started to fire. Thankfully, Charles was quick to respond and covered Arthur as shots rang out.
The men fell one by one, blood spraying from their wounds. Bullets flew past Arthur, grazing his side but never hitting their mark. Charles was a constant presence in his view, ducking out from behind a boulder and taking perfect aim. Hell, if Dutch had any concerns about Charles, Arthur was happy to clear those up. He was a damn good shot and ally to have on the field.
“Arthur!” Charles yelled, pointing his pistol at him. Arthur’s eyes widened for a split second, before he threw himself to the ground. Charles fired, the bullet whizzing over Arthur’s head and hitting an O’Driscoll that had been creeping up behind him. The man crumbled to the ground soundlessly, the bullet going in his head and straight back out. Silence fell over the battlefield, the only noise being Arthur and Charles' heavy breathing. Arthur got up from the ground, looking around them at the fallen bodies, before he met Charles’ gaze.
“Fuck.” Arthur stated, before smashing his lips against Charles. Charles met his kiss with the same enthusiasm, his hand knocking Arthur’s hat to the ground in an effort to grab his hair. Arthur dragged Charles by his belt loops towards the wooded area, away from the road and the bloodshed. They didn’t bother to undress, just push down their pants far enough that they could grip each other in a tight, warm heat. Their hands moved in their own rhythm, chasing the end without thought. Their lips barely left each other, and when they did, it was only to press kisses to each other's neck, cheeks - anything that could be reached. Arthur’s knees were shaking as he came closer to finishing, and from the sound of Charles’ breathing, he was in much the same state.
“This…” Arthur said, his head resting on Charles’ shoulder once they had both come back to themselves, hands wiped on the grass and pants back in place. “This was just… another one time thing, ok? Charles?”
“I hear you, Arthur.” Charles agreed, pressing his lips to Arthur’s hair softly. “It was just the rush of the fight. Won’t happen again.”
*
The second time it happened, it was during a party the gang were holding. The Callander brother’s had managed to pull off a successful robbery, their satchels full of jewellery that any fence would pay good money for. Sean had, of course, demanded they celebrate the Callander boys the way they deserved, and before long they were deep into their cups, with Javier playing a tune while Dutch toasted to everyone’s health.
“You ok, Charles?” Arthur asked, his voice relaxed with the amount of drink in his system. Charles was around the main fire - not where he really wanted to be, but Hosea had been sure to include him in the gang’s activities. The gang’s singing was picking up around them, providing them with enough noise for their conversation to go unnoticed.
“I’m fine, Arthur.” Charles confirmed, clicking their bottles together when Arthur waved his beer bottle in front of him. Arthur kept his other hand on Charles' shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Is the gang always this rowdy?”
“Hah! When they can get away with it, yeah.” Arthur chuckled, looking around at each face that made up his family. Lord, drink always did make him such a sap. “Though if it’s too loud f’you, I know a spot. Don’t think Lenny is still on lookout…”
Charles seemed to catch his meaning, as they soon found themselves just outside of the gang, a rifle left forgotten at their feet. Usually, Arthur would be against not guarding the camp properly, but the only visitors they had had to camp so far had been the wildlife. For a few, stolen moments, they could just enjoy each other's company. And although Arthur had said the last time they did this would be the last time it happened, he felt that a night like this didn’t count.
Charles on his knees was a sight he was desperate to remember, after all.
*
The third time was different. There was no rush of enemy fire, nor the confidence of alcohol burning through their veins. They had gone out to hunt, Charles promising to show Arthur how he hunted with the bow and arrow. They had managed to kill a few rabbits (well, Charles had - Arthur seemed to just follow behind him and enjoy the view) and had considered heading back, when Arthur quietly asked if Charles would prefer to camp.
“Maybe tomorrow, we can try and take down a deer, you’ll really impress the gang with that.” Arthur said, ignoring the way he was flushing. Charles had agreed, but even he could see through Arthur’s plan. They only bothered to set up one tent, not trying to act like they would sleep separately tonight.
Once night fell, they entered the tent slowly. Without speaking, Arthur began to undress, his eyes on Charles. Charles for once didn’t meet his gaze, and instead was focused on watching Arthur’s naked skin come into view.
“I remember more, from that night.” Arthur said, his vice sounding gruff with how low he was speaking. Charles hummed, his hand reaching out to skim over Arthur’s collarbone and down to his hardening nipple. Arthur’s breath hitched, and he reached out to unbutton Charles’ shirt. “But not everything. I want… I want to remember everything, this time.”
“Me too,” Charles murmured, leaning closer to Arthur to press kisses to his neck. “I brought oils with me, in my saddle bag.”
“You did?” Arthur asked in surprise, before laughing. As Charles raised an eyebrow, Arthur pulled out his own bottle of oil from his satchel that was pushed against the corner of the tent. “Heh, me too.”
“Huh,” Charles said, a smile gracing his face. “Glad to know we’re on the same page, then. Now, c’mere.”
The sex was slower this time, more deliberate touches and thought behind it. Arthur relaxed under Charles' clever hands, and they both spent time exploring one another without feeling rushed. When Charles did finally sink into Arthur, it felt effortless - and when he moved, it felt like he was taking Arthur’s breath away with each thrust. They moved together, not pushed to finish, but just to feel one another. Slowly, the need built, and Arthur came, with Charles following soon after.
They lay quietly together, still naked as the day they were born and wrapped up around each other. Arthur pulled Charles onto his chest, tucking his head under his chin. For some reason, holding Charles like this felt like the most important memory to have.
“I know you are leavin’ after winter.” Arthur said softly, gently petting Charles' hair - it was the first thing that attracted him to Charles, but certainly wasn’t the only thing. “But we’re going to be moving down into Blackwater, see what we can get goin’ down there. You could, uh…” he tried not to trip over his words, but talking wasn’t always his strong point. “Well, you could stay? If you wanted to, of course, no pressure. I know the gang would like it, Dutch keeps on singin’ your praises, and Hosea.” He felt himself clam up, not really saying what he meant. “And, uh, I would… I’d like it if you stayed.”
Charles froze beside him, and instantly Arthur felt his heart drop in his chest. He shouldn’t have said that - should never have put Charles under any kind of pressure. What was he expecting, the other man to stay and be with him? Charles preferred to work alone, only joining gangs when he needed to to survive, not because it was something he wanted to do. And while Arthur was a good way to pass the winter, he knew that he was no great looker, nor the best company. Charles deserved better, Charles deserved-
“I’d like to stay.” Charles said, breaking Arthur from his negative thoughts. He reached up to take Arthur’s hand away from his hair, lacing their fingers together. “If it means staying with you.”
“Don’t feel like you have to,” Arthur said quickly, frowning slightly. “I know you don’t normally run with a gang-”
“Most gangs don’t have an Arthur Morgan in them.”
“... Y’mean an invert?”
“Arthur, I meant you, all of you. You remember what I said, when I told you I liked the look of the cowboy buying me the whiskey? Well, I meant it.” Arthur didn’t respond, seemingly stunned into silence. “And this gang,” Charles continued softly, “I can see it’s more like a family. I’ve missed that.” Charles raised his head so he could meet Arthur’s gaze. “I’m not ready to go.”
“Well, good.” Arthur said, squeezing Charles’ hand after his brain seemed to catch up with what the other was saying. Charles wanted him , and wanted to stay. He couldn’t think for how long, but that didn’t matter. Outlaws couldn’t think of the future, and just had to live in the now. “Because I ain’t ready for you to go. Welcome to the gang, Charles Smith. Stay with us for as long as you’ll have us.”
“So does that mean we can stop pretending this is a one time thing?”
“Well, clearly it's a four time thing.” Arthur snorted, pulling Charles hand up so he could press a kiss to the back of his hand. “But, uh… if you’ll have me…”
“Oh, I’ll have you,” Charles said, rolling over to do just that.
*