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Arthur dropped the flaps of his tent down for the illusion of privacy. It has truly never stopped anyone from coming in, but it gives some of the more mannered people in camp a warning that he’s seeking some personal time, for whatever reason it may be.
Today’s reason was the tightness in his jeans he’d been ignoring for what felt like painful hours, only getting thicker and thicker the longer he ignored it.
All because of Charles… handsome, broad, even-spoken Charles with his beautiful long hair, and big muscles and- shit. Arthur wasn’t helping himself any. Certainly wasn’t helping the big problem down below.
Arthur removed his gun belt, dropping it off by the foot of his belt. He sat on the edge of his bed, trying to shake thoughts of the younger man from his mind. The way he guided him on a hunting trip earlier. Standing so close behind Arthur’s back that his chest was pressed into Arthur’s shoulders. Grabbing his arms to show Arthur a better way of holding the bow for a more accurate attack. Arthur could still feel Charles’ warm breath on his ears as he explained what he was doing. Arthur had to pretend like he was giving Charles his full attention, but the blood from his head was quickly moving down south.
Fuck. He can’t fight it anymore. Arthur laid down onto his back and parted his legs. His hands anxiously fluttered around his thighs before landing on his bulge. He pressed down, lightly, and immediately arched into the feeling. His body felt like it was on fire. He repeated the motion a few times, teasing himself as he palmed his bulge. His breath was coming in heavy, hints of desperation floating in them, and he had to remind himself to quiet down.
It’s not like what Arthur was doing was an abnormal thing for the camp. When you have twenty plus people, especially young adults and hormonal teenagers, in close quarters, you’re going to hear (and see things) you may not be wanting to. Hell, Arthur remembers bunking with John during the younger man's teenage years and struggling to sleep because of John’s… urges.
But Arthur had an image to maintain. And this truly was something Arthur didn’t do very often. Usually didn’t have enough energy or time. Well, that was before Charles became a member of the gang, and now Arthur has to relieve himself a few times a week to feel somewhat normal. He pretends to think about Mary, or some random women from the saloons, but when he climaxes, it’s always warm skin and thick muscles that’s on his mind.
Arthur didn’t even want to pretend that night, too desperate and hard. He unbuckled his regular belt as quickly and as quietly as he could, letting the two ends fall. His hands swiftly unbuttoned and unzipped them, and shimmied them down just far enough to release himself.
Reaching a hand into his underwear, Arthur pulled his cock out and nearly hissed at the air nipping his sensitive tip. He ran a thumb over his tip and closed his eyes, feeling immediately relief. His thumb deftly circled around the head, making Arthur swallow down a moan. His hands trailed down his shaft before fully wrapping his palm around it. His wrist began to flick, shifting up and down his cock.
Arthur opened his eyes to watch, imagining Charles’ face between his thighs instead, taking down every inch of his shaft with his hot mouth. Arthur watched as precum dripped out of his slit at the very thought.
Yeah, maybe it was wrong to be fantasizing about someone Arthur considered a good friend, but shit, Arthur just couldn’t find it in himself to care as he stroked himself roughly. He’d regret it after he cums, but not now. Not when the pressure was building quickly in his stomach. His balls were contracting with every stroke, getting faster and faster.
He heard footsteps outside his tent but they were quiet and fleeting, so he continued fucking his hand. He raised his shirt, feeling himself getting closer and closer to Heaven, and not wanting to get this shirt covered in his fluids. He could see his lower stomach tighten, his muscles becoming more defined as his body burned a thousand degrees. The sound of him fisting his cock surely sounded crude, but quiet enough.
Just as Arthur brought himself to the edge, the tent flap opened and Charles walked in. Arthur watched as the younger man froze. Arthur made eye contact with him, a sense of panic running through his system and lightning speed, but couldn’t stop the wave of pleasure that ran through his whole body. Arthur arched against the bed, a soft grunt clawing itself out of his chest. He felt cum hit his stomach, just as he predicted. His chest rose and fell as he came down from his intense orgasm.
At some point during it, Arthur closed his eyes, and he hoped when he opened them again Charles wouldn’t be there anymore. Sure, Charles had no idea he was pleasuring himself to him- but the idea that Charles saw him make a mess of himself was… a little too intimate and embarrassing for Arthur’s sake.
Things don’t ever seem to work out for Arthur, though, because as soon as he forced his eyes open, Charles was still standing there, a blush faintly staining his face. His mouth opened once, twice, then closed. Arthur felt frozen before remembering his cock was still out, not softening fast enough for his liking. His stomach was still covered in his cum, and he was sure he must have looked messy and sweaty. He, luckily, had the sense to tuck himself away and drop his shirt over the fluid.
So much for keeping his shirt clean.
Arthur cleared his throat, still unsure why Charles hadn’t left yet. “Uh…” His voice was dry and came out rough.
Charles, someone Arthur had never seen flustered the entire time he’d known him, truly looked at a loss for words. Like he was paralyzed. “I, uh,” his voice came out quietly. Arthur watched as he took a deep breath and became a little more ‘Charles-like’. “Sorry. I, uh, needed your opinion on something but you are busy so-” He made a move to lift up the flap and exit.
Arthur’s eyes naturally drifted downward and caught sight of his bulge as he turned. Was Charles turned on by what he saw? Arthur tried to justify it. There wasn’t much opportunity to get off ‘round these parts, so it probably was just the concept of it that got Charles hard, not Arthur himself.
“Wait,” Arthur called out. He sat up and grimaced as he felt his shirt stick to where he came. It was slimy, but Arthur did his best to ignore it.
Charles turned, hesitant and slow. “Hmm?”
“’M less busy now if you- erm- still wanted my opinion.” Arthur internally slapped himself. He should’ve let Charles go, gotten himself cleaned up, and then approach Charles in the morning like this never happened. But Arthur found himself to be an idiot more times than not.
“Oh.” Charles took another stilling breath. “I was just going to ask about-” Arthur stared confused as Charles stopped. He looked like he was searching his brain for something. Charles sighed. “Actually, I just came in here to see you. Wanted to say that-” Charles went silent.
“Charles, come sit.” Arthur sat up and scooted over on his cot, with just enough room for the younger man to join him. Charles obeyed and sat down, seeming hesitant to meet Arthur’s eye. “You ‘kay?” Charles raised his head and finally looked Arthur back in the eyes. The two stared at each other and Arthur could feel a buzz in the air. It felt tangible, like if Arthur reached out he’d be able to hold it in his hands.
The two held eye contact, unsure words being shared silently. Then, Charles scooted closer, just ever so slightly. Arthur couldn’t help but match the same movement. Arthur watched as Charles’ dark eyes, lightly lit by the candle in the corner, shifted from his blue eyes down to his lips and back up again.
Oh.
Arthur felt his heart flip. He gulped, probably loud enough for Charles to hear judging by the faint grin that tugged at the other man’s lips.
Arthur’s body knew what was happening before he did. Their faces drew closer until their noses bumped, each tilting slightly to the right. Their lips touched in a gentle caress. Arthur hoped Charles couldn’t hear the way his heart pounded against his ribs. Charles dropped a hand on Arthur’s knee as their lips drew back and reconnected, this time with a little bit more confidence. Arthur raised his hand up to Charles’ face, holding him close as their lips began to dance, a smooth tango. It was more gentle than he had ever kissed anyone, and for a moment it scared him, but as Charles melted into his hand, Arthur’s worries melted away.
Maybe as they continued to kiss, their hands roamed a little, touching wherever they could. And maybe they ended up lying on Arthur’s bed, Arthur hovering above him, their legs slotted together. And maybe, just maybe, Arthur might’ve cum a second time that night with Charles between his legs, grinding their groins together at a speed that made Arthur breathe loud and fast.
That was the start of their, whatever the hell, they were doing.
Two weeks later, the two men found themselves in a shed near the main camp where some of their booze and fragiles were kept. The group was celebrating something, which should’ve been Arthur’s tick off to not do something intimate in the shed, but with Charles on his knees, cock in mouth… well, hot damn.
Arthur’s head was tossed back, hands threaded in Charles’ long hair. Quiet moans slipped past his lips despite his best effort to remain silent. Charles, typical in his nature to be good at everything, was a master at sucking him off.
“You sure you’ve never done this before?” Arthur asked through heavy breaths.
Charles just shrugged and took another inch further into his mouth. His hand came up to stroke and hold what he didn’t take in. His tongue swirled around Arthur’s tip with precision, shifting from tonguing his slit to flattening it against Arthur’s shaft. This was only Charles’ second time having Arthur’s girth in his mouth, but he seemed to know it like the back of his hand. Knew where to put pressure, how to work his tongue till Arthur was in near tears, and when to pull off just before Arthur could cum- ever the tease.
“Good boy,” Arthur groaned, the familiar feeling of pleasure increasing with every bob of Charles’ head. “Takin’ me so well, shit-” Arthur moaned. Charles took his time sliding his mouth up and down Arthur’s cock, teasing him for his own pleasure. He looked up through his eyelashes and watched Arthur’s eyebrow furrow at the frustration of the pace, but he didn’t complain, just eager to soak up every second with Charles.
Too lost in their actions, neither heard the drunken footsteps approaching the shed door.
With a loud swing open, Arthur and Charles were lit up by the campfire and lanterns in the distance. Somehow, neither noticed as their skin became illuminated. Uncle’s jaw dropped as he stared at Charles taking Arthur deep. The glass bottle in his hand nearly slipped, but the old man caught it- never one to waste a good bottle of liquor.
Uncle’s too loud voice cut through the sound of slurping. “Now what is going on here?”
Arthur gasped and Charles popped off with a sound that was too vulgar to recount.
They shared a brief look of panic, before Charles stood, taking the lead. “Snake bite. Unfortunate place.” He moved to the door, covering Arthur’s body with his own. He reached to his left and grabbed some crappy, but effective bottle of alcohol. “This what you’re looking for?”
Uncle looked confused. He clearly didn’t follow what was happening, but he also seemed to believe whatever Charles was saying to him. “I guess so. I can’t quite remember actually.” He shrugged and scratched his neck. He glanced down at the bottle in Charles’ hand. “Hand me that whole crate, actually. Sean challenged me to a competition and I gotta go show that Irishman not to disrespect his elders.” Yeah… Uncle was not going to be a problem.
Charles set the bottle back into its place and handed Uncle the whole crate, ensuring he could carry it by himself before waving him off.
He closed the door with a breath of relief. “Where were we?” Charles got back on his knees and used his mouth so skillfully that Arthur only lasted a few more minutes, despite their panic at being caught.
The next morning, Arthur went up to Uncle and asked him what he remembered about last night. “I remember putting that boy in his place, thinking he could outdrink me, hah.”
---
It was not much longer that Charles and Arthur finally decided to, what Arthur would call ‘be personally intimate’, aka: fuck. It was hard to plan with the chaos of their lives. Especially with Arthur constantly being sent on missions and jobs, forever the good work horse.
Charles admired that Arthur was so willing to help his family in whatever way he could, but he yearned for Arthur when he was away from camp for so long. Hunting and his right hand could keep him busy for only so long. But now, Arthur had his fingers inside of Charles.
The water from the lake kept the majority of their body covered, especially where Arthur was spreading Charles’ hole open with each thrust of his fingers. It was a little bit harder to finger a man in his most intimate place due to the water, and the lack of thicker lubricant to smooth the glide, but neither man seemed to care as their lips collided. They clashed together in a longing to be closer together.
Arthur curled his fingers and angled them a little higher, striking Charles’ prostate. Charles moaned against Arthur’s lips. Arthur could feel himself be hard against Charles’ thigh, so turned on by the little noises that slipped through the younger man’s mouth. Charles was much better at keeping quiet than Arthur was, but Arthur was also good at his job as his fingers worked through the inner workings of Charles.
“You sound so good for me, sweetheart,” Arthur praised. “Feel good?”
“Mhm,” Charles responded, coming out more as a moan than anything else.
Arthur quickened his fingers. “Use your words.”
“Yes, yes- shit, feels so good. I need you, all of you…” Who was Arthur to deny the man in his arms? Arthur removed his fingers, which resulted in a whine from Charles. He wrapped one arm around Charles’ back to hold him against his chest as they bobbed in the water. Charles wrapped his legs around Arthur’s waist and eagerly awaited for what was going to come next.
Arthur wrapped his other hand around his shaft, guiding it to Charles’ hole. The ring was so tight. Arthur wondered how tight it would’ve been if he hadn’t just fingered Charles for fifteen minutes.
He slowly pressed in, peppering kisses on Charles’ moonlit face. Charles dropped his forehead to Arthur’s shoulder as he grunted, the pressure suddenly overwhelming for him. Arthur was having none of it. Once his tip was in securely, he lifted his hand to Charles’ face, lifting up his chin. He held eye contact with Charles, who looked absolutely sinful, as he continued to press into him.
Charles felt like he was being split into two, in the best way possible. So, so, so full everywhere. Arthur bottomed out and watched as Charles’ dark eyes rolled to the back of head, which also jolted backward in response. Arthur’s eyes traced the details of Charles’ face; every scar, the blush that came to his cheeks, the soft wrinkles that showed the life he had lived. He could stare forever as Charles’ chest rose and fell rapidly.
“Doin’ okay?” Arthur asked gently, making sure not to move until the other man was ready.
“Full…” Arthur felt a smug smile take over his face.
“I know you’re smiling. Don’t get a big head now.” The two laughed together.
After a few more minutes of getting Charles comfortable, he locked eyes with Arthur again and nodded. Arthur began to slowly move his hips, his cock sliding in and out of Charles. Both men moaned, probably a little too loudly for how close they were to camp, and clung to one another like they needed to live in each other’s skin. As if they weren’t already, Arthur quite literally.
Arthur sped up and adjusted Charles, his tip getting ever so closely to the sweet spot. Charles felt it and attempted to bounce in time with Arthur, but it was like Arthur knew exactly how to avoid it- an evil tease by an evil man, Charles thought to himself.
He was barely mentally coherent as Arthur teased his hole.
Snap! Plop!
Charles stopped bouncing and turned his head to where the sound came from. Arthur clearly didn’t hear it by the way he kept thrusting into Charles.
Charles dropped a hand to Arthur’s pec. “Wait, Arthur.” Arthur stopped moving, scared he was hurting Charles. He stared into his eyes with concern. Charles shook off the look. “Did you hear that?”
“What?”
“I just heard somethin’.”
Arthur drew his hips back just enough. “Something enough to get me to stop?” Charles listened for a second but only heard the vague sounds of waves crashing, the wind blowing against the flora, and laughter in the direction of camp. He lightly frowned upon not hearing anything else, but turned back to Arthur and kissed him.
Arthur took that as a sign to begin moving again, slamming his cock all the way into Charles. Charles almost shouted with pleasure, a sound that nearly rang out before Arthur managed to slap a hand over his mouth.
Arthur couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t feeling just as good. He was so fuck-hungry that he almost wanted to risk the entire camp hearing the way Charles made him feel. The way he clenched tightly around Arthur’s cock and drew his breath away.
Then- a splash of water sounded an alarm in Arthur’s mind. He slowed his movements, but didn’t stop, as he shifted his head this time. Charles heard it again and stared in the direction of the noise. It was dark enough that it was hard to see anything at a distance, but the moonlight aided in spotting two pale bodies- naked at that- not that far down from them.
And if Charles and Arthur could see them… then that meant they could also be seen.
As if the universe read Arthur’s mind, Sean and Karen came into view. Karen gasped as she noticed Arthur’s and Charles’ bodies pressed together, with no chance of justification or excuse to explain away what was happening.
It was so embarrassingly evident that Charles was stuffed full and minutes away from a life changing orgasm.
Karen had the mind to laugh a little. “Well, ha… fancy seein’ y’all here, huh?” She smiled wildly. “Seems like we had the same kinda idea.” Charles groaned and hid his face against Arthur, wanting to sink into the water below him.
Arthur shrugged, hoping his attempt at playing it cool was working. “That kind of night, I reckon.” Charles shook his head, a small laugh coming from his chest. Arthur watched as Sean, someone who never lacked in things to say, struggled to keep his mouth shut. He was really trying, which Arthur could appreciate but the man looked physically in pain as all his teasing remained to his brain. “Ah, just get it out now so you don’t blabber off to the camp,” Arthur groaned, rolling his eyes.
“You say anything and I’ll rip your prick off,” Karen threatened, holding a finger out to the Irishman. It surprised Arthur. Karen wasn’t much better than Sean and also had a big mouth. She loved to gossip with the other girls in camp but something felt safer about this situation in the way she threatened him.
Sean scoffed. “I was just goin’ to say good work, English. Clearly Charles is happy with your work.” The two men intertwined groaned.
Karen waved them off. “Alright, we’re getting out of here. You can keep your spot. Have fun!”
“Ms. Jones, please don’t say nothing to the others. This ain’t exactly something we’re wanting the world to know.” Arthur didn’t actually know what this something was, or how Charles felt about them, but until they defined what was going on, he really didn’t want the others knowing. Too nosy, too stupid.
“Deal, as long as you keep your eyes to yourself while I get out this water. I may have left my clothes on the bank.”
Arthur waved them off and shifted both of their bodies away from where Karen and Sean were nakedly trying to find a new place to get down and dirty. He faintly heard a whistle from Sean, either teasing the two men or Karen, or both, but ignored it the way the Lord intended.
When any sound or sight of them had completely disappeared, Arthur fucked back into Charles hard- even harder than before. It was obscene the way their bodies slapped together. Arthur thought about what it would sound like if they were on land. The way he’d be able to hear his balls slapping against Charles’ thick ass, the squelch of where their bodies connected.
Oh, shit, Arthur was close. Charles was too, clearly, by the way he clenched around Arthur. Arthur pulled him even closer and thrust into him as best as the resistance of water would let him.
“Cum for me, sweetheart.”
“Arthur, Arthur, Arthur-” Charles moaned his name like a prayer. Arthur loved the way it sounded, desperate to hear the way Charles pleaded with him to bring him to the edge. Charles came hard, body seized up and groans spilling from his mouth. The tight clench brought Arthur to his edge, filling Charles’ hole with his seed. It was warm and wet, soaking his walls.
They reconnected their lips in a gentle kiss, each silently praying that the other two looking for a funny night really would keep their mouths shut.
For the next couple weeks in camp, nothing was any different. No one stared at them or whispered when they walked past together. Sean and Karen had somehow managed to keep their secret. Either that or the entire camp suddenly got good at minding their business, which Arthur thought was less possible than suddenly scoring a million dollars.
---
On a warm night, Charles, Arthur, Hosea, and Sadie sat around the campfire. The rest of the camp seemed to be sleeping, judging by the silence surrounding them. They talked quietly of everything: stories of Hosea’s greatest heists and scams, Sadie’s husband and life before the gang, Charles’ memories of when he was young (as few as they were), and much to Arthur’s dismay- stories of when Arthur was a young man.
“You know, I remember the first time Arthur talked back to Dutch and me,” Hosea started, a mischievous glimmer in his eye.
“Ah, nah, we don’t need to talk about none of that now,” Arthur protested, running a hand over his face. He knew it was futile, especially seeing the way Charles and Sadie leaned in closer, desperate the grand tale of his first ‘grounding’.
“Imagine a fifteen year old Arthur. No facial hair, certainly no chest hair, but just as dirty and grimy.” The group laughed except for Arthur who groaned. “He had been with us for a year at that point, and never even slightly raised his voice, no matter how upset with us he was. Quick learner, very respectful, especially toward Dutch.”
“What happened to him?” Sadie joked. Arthur narrowed his eyes at her and frowned. She laughed, but turned back to Hosea for him to finish his story.
“Well, we had just come back from an event, some elaborate thing that Dutch and I had planned, and we had left little Arthur alone back at our camp. He was just a little too young for the high society events we had to attend.” Hosea leaned in. “When we get back, we hear this sort of grunting sound. It’s coming from Arthur’s tent, so we get closer and open it. Inside, a young Arthur and a young woman, certainly one we had never seen before, cuddled up, half-dressed.”
Charles raised an eyebrow and turned to Arthur. Arthur’s face was covered in a harsh shade of red and he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. Charles knew Arthur could feel him staring, but he refused to make eye contact.
Hosea continued, “Dutch kicks the girl out. Wasn’t anything she did, but we were sort of on the run and didn’t need random girls in our camp. Especially when it was just us three against the world.” He smirks. “Arthur is mad. Clearly mad. I try to calm him down but he starts yelling about how he was in loooove, and how he was grown enough to be making romantic decisions on his own.”
“In love, huh?” Charles asked, amusement written all over his face.
“This were over twenty years ago,” Arthur gruffed out. “Hosea’s bein’ dramatic.”
“Ha! That’s all you, my dear boy. We had to keep you in camp for a week for that attitude and tone you were giving us. No horse rides or trips to the towns. Oh man, you should have seen his face when we caught them. Wouldn’t be the first, and probably won’t be the last.”
“I think you need to go to bed, old man. Ain’t it past your bed time?”
Hosea tossed a head over his shoulder to the tent Dutch and him shared. “You know, it actually is.” Sadie immediately protested, wanting to hear more stories about Arthur, but Hosea waved her off. “Got a long day ahead of me tomorrow. Goodnight.” He stood and made his way to his tent.
After a minute, Dutch’s music turned off, filling the camp with even more quiet.
Sadie chuckled to herself for a little before also standing. “Guess I should go let Lenny get some sleep and take guard. G’night.”
The two men waved her off and turned their faces back to the fire. It was silent, but not uncomfortable. Charles looked around them a few times. No one seemed to be around. He faced Arthur who tiredly met his eyes.
Charles gave one more glance over of the camp before he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Arthur. “Was the girl better than me?” He whispered after their lips touched.
Arthur groaned. “Shut the fuck up,” he said roughly. He pressed their lips together, more gentle than his tone.
Unbeknownst to the two men, Mr. Pearson and Mrs. Grimshaw watched from a distance, arms crossed over their chests. Clearly Charles hadn’t looked hard enough.
“I mean, at least they’re a handsome couple,” Mr. Pearson whispered, shrugging.
“As long as they continue the work-”
“And bring in game.”
“Then, we have no reason to object.”
They watched Charles bring a hand up to Arthur for one more kiss. Mrs. Grimshaw felt a smile overtake her face. As much as Hosea and Dutch were Arthur’s dads, she often considered herself a mother figure to the cowboy. Charles was well-groomed, probably the hardest worker in camp, and better souled than the most of them. She’d have no reason to disapprove. She was happy Arthur found himself someone to make him happy, and hopefully keep a little more bathed.
The two watched as the men kissed one final time and went their separate ways, hands lingering as they parted. Pearson grunted and shuffled away. She’d make sure he didn’t say anything to anyone. She knew how much Arthur liked his privacy, as little as he was given.
---
Not much later, Sadie Adler picked up letters from the post-office for the gang. She often offered when she was bored, looking for some kind of entertainment in Mr. Pearson’s corny words. She tried her best not to look through the mail of anyone she actually liked in camp, but on days like today, she couldn’t help herself. How could she be blamed?
It wasn’t everyday Charles Smith received a letter. In fact, she didn’t remember if she’d ever seen Charles receive a letter. The only time she’s even seen him read anything was one time Arthur got drunk enough to let the two of them read a couple entries of his typically private journal, a couple drawings included.
The two of them were undoubtedly amazed by Arthur, the way he yearned and drew so meticulously. They couldn’t compliment him enough before Arthur snapped the journal shut out of their reach, a harsh flush on his face. Sadie had to pretend like she didn’t see the next page: a full in-depth drawing of Charles.
So she waited ‘till she was on her horse and opened it up.
My Dearest Charles,
The handwriting was familiar, far too familiar.
I recall you becoming, perhaps, jealous, more than you let on, when I received a sorta forward letter from Mary.
Oh, this was Arthur’s handwriting. Sadie should stop.
But I want you to know that my old eyes are only for you. That’s why I’m writing you this letter instead of walking twelve feet over to you and saying it. What Mary and I used to have is long-gone, replaced by a forever feeling of care, of course, but not love in the romantic sense. Certainly not like the people in Mary-Beth’s books.
Did you know that, before we started this- whatever this thing is- I used to think only of you? I thought of you when I slept, when I hunted with or without you. I especially thought of you late at night, a hand between my legs, sweat dripping.
I’m embarrassed to admit any of this now, but there’s no point in hiding anything from you. You just always seem to know everything.
You know how to hold me when I’ve had a long day, which is more often than not. Know how to kiss me to get me to shut up. You know how to take care of me until I want to scream your name loud enough for the camp, (no, the world!) to hear us. That way they might finally understand how good you make me feel in every sense of the word.
I know the world weren’t made for two men like us. Yeah, maybe the easy option would be giving up this life and marrying Mary, but I don’t care none about easy or safe. Not when scary and dangerous comes with the benefit of you.
You are the best of men. Maybe even the best of people. You inspire me every day to be a better man, and to see the world with more patient eyes.
I don’t know if this is too soon, or if I’m an idiot for saying so, but I love you, Charles Smith. Every part of you. Sometimes I feel like the luckiest man alive.
I should stop before I say something even more foolish, but know that my heart is always and only with you.
Yours Truly,
Arthur Morgan
God damn. Sadie’s heart, blacked by this world, wiped her tears. Damn you and your bleedin’ heart, Arthur Morgan.
It was certainly her fault for snooping, however, and she faced the consequences of it as she cried for the entire ride home. She missed her love, and Arthur’s words felt like a bullet to her heart. She’d never hear her Jake say anything similar ever again. But she’d do everything in her power to make sure Charles and Arthur got their happy ending they greatly deserved.
And maybe stop reading other people’s mail… maybe.
Sadie did her best to fix the letter so it looked new and fresh. When she handed it to Charles, he looked genuinely surprised, then suspicious after his eyes fell to the state of the letter. But he didn’t say anything as he accepted it.
Sadie stepped away and watched from a distance as Charles read the letter. A large smile, quite uncharacteristic of Charles - at least for the rest of the group - took his face over.
To any outside observer, it would look like Charles won some kind of large inheritance, but no, it was just fumblin’ Arthur writing some sweet words to someone who deserved to hear them. When Charles finished reading it a couple times, he tucked the letter into his shirt, carefully, and shyly played with his hair.
---
For the fifth night in a row, Charles was missing from their bedding area. His roll remained there, empty and collecting dust as it became unused.
Javier didn’t necessarily care that Charles wasn’t there, especially on hot nights where Charles, much bigger than Javier, ran hot like fire. Plus, having more space was nice.
Still, Javier was curious, if nothing else. He saw Charles around camp during the day and knew that he didn’t have night guard duty every night, so he was doing something else.
The next day, Javier played his guitar and sang softly around the campfire for a while, watching as the sun lowered in the sky, waiting for Charles to appear. Time passed and there was no sign of Charles. Javier frowned and set his guitar aside.
In the distance, he heard some rumbling and laughter. Javier stood from his stump and followed the noise. It seemed like it was coming from Arthur’s tent. He listened closely, sound muffled by the thick fabric. He heard Arthur’s deep voice, but he couldn’t make out the words.
Then, the sound of lips smacking filled Javier’s ears. Suddenly, his intrigue with finding Charles became second to finding out who Arthur snuck into camp. Maybe it was that Mary girl he never got the pleasure of meeting. Or a whore from the saloons nearby. Either way, he had to know.
However, as much as he would never admit it out loud, he did fear Arthur and thought it best to wait until he was asleep- as to not face the wrath of his nosiness. Unless they weren’t going to sleep and- Javier shivered thinking about Arthur getting his dick wet.
Luckily, after just a little bit of waiting, quiet snores bled through the fabric. Now was his time to strike…
Javier wanted to shout ‘AHA!’ as he quietly but swiftly raised the tent flat. Any imaginary sound he was going to make quickly died as he saw what was before him.
Arthur Morgan, feared gunslinger, sleeping with peace written across his face. Behind him, big arms holding the older man- Charles Smith.
What the fuck. Charles was ditching their sleeping arrangement to hold and kiss Arthur?
He made eye contact with Charles and jumped. Charles raised an eyebrow and shook his head.
To Javier’s surprise, it wasn’t a look of fear, like, “Oh no! You’ve caught us!”.
It was a look of, “If you wake him, I’ll kill you.”
So, Javier did the sensible thing and turned around, exiting the tent. He doubted it was a smart idea to test Charles’ patience. What does he do with this information now? There’s no way anyone in camp would believe him if he told them that the two of the camp's most tough macho-men were actually queer lovers. Not that Javier was judging- but regardless.
He went straight to his bedroll and pushed Charles’ over. If Charles wasn’t going to use the space, then he was certainly going to. He turned over, stretched his limbs out, and promptly fell asleep.
---
Arthur and Charles climbed into the hay loft, a prized private discovery they made a week back. The tin of hair pomade felt like it weighed a ton as Arthur anticipated the moment Charles would fish it out of his pocket to use on Arthur. He hardened at the thought.
They started slow. Simple. Soft kisses and roaming hands as their bodies drew impossibly close. But then Charles was hoisting Arthur into his lap and things started to get a whole lot less wholesome very quickly. Arthur’s rough hands moved from Charles’ hair to the buttons on his shirt, helping the younger man to remove his clothes. Arthur’s hands trailed further down to his belt and deftly flicked it off.
Arthur had a momentary thought of frustration as he worked to remove layers of undergarments, suddenly cursing the fashion of the late 1800s.
Finally successful at getting Charles undressed, he wasted no time placing his mouth right on Charles’ shaft, his tongue circling the head methodically. Arthur wasn’t good at speaking or fancy talking with the flip of his tongue, but it certainly had other talents. He could taste the beads of pre-cum slipping through Charles’ slit as he worked and craved more.
Charles gasped, clearly tumbling to the edge after just a few minutes. He pulled Arthur off, and much to the older man’s shame, he whined as he was removed, wanting to finish his work. “Wait,” Charles muttered, eyes closed as he worked to stabilize himself. His cock was angry, slapping against his stomach and heavily leaking pre-cum. “Wanna try something.”
Arthur sat back on his heels, knees flat on the ground. He stared at Charles in anticipation, breath held.
“Undress. Completely,” Charles ordered, lowering his voice. Sweat dripped down his body. Arthur couldn’t think about anything but how seductive he looked. “Now, Morgan.” Arthur loved when Charles talked to him like that. It wasn’t often, but when he lowered his voice and bossed him around, Arthur had to breathe deeply, head floating in the clouds. He slowly removed his clothes as Charles watched, eyes half-lidded. He noticed as Charles licked his lips when Arthur’s red cock was freed, immediately standing at full attention. He felt like a piece of meat, ready to be devoured raw by a predator.
Charles lazily spun two of his fingers around, a silent order for Arthur to follow. He obeyed despite his shame at his back-side being so bare and open for the other to stare and do whatever with. He faced away from Charles on all fours as he awaited further instruction. He listened as Charles finally grabbed the pomade from Arthur’s pants. He heard the tin lid fall to the ground, body strung up in anticipation.
“Stay,” Charles demanded. He shuffled closer and Arthur felt his large hands on his hips. Charles slid his body under Arthur’s so that his cock was face-to-face with Arthur’s lips. “Continue.” Arthur dropped down a bit, taking Charles’ shaft back into his mouth and hand.
His head bobbed, listening as Charles softly moaned. Then, Arthur was moaning as a cold finger, wet, circled around his rim. It teased, languidly going around and around the pink ring. He bit back a moan as the finger entered into him. Charles’ finger was thick and longer than Arthur’s. Arthur rocked onto his fingers, needing more already.
He heard Charles tsk. “So desperate, are we?” He hummed in thought. “Fine.” Charles removed his finger and swiftly entered two in. Arthur’s eyes snapped shut, body on fire. He knew he had to be leaking onto Charles’ chest. “Better?” Arthur was grateful that his mouth was full, otherwise he’d have made a lewd noise loud enough for anyone outside to hear.
The two of them kept on their movements until Charles was four fingers deep. The fourth finger was, admittedly, unnecessary, but Charles relished how Arthur nearly cried out of desperation.
Before either of them could cum, Charles removed his fingers. Arthur lifted off and turned his head around, curiosity written all over his face. Charles scooted himself out from under Arthur and got onto his knees. Arthur knew what was coming next, and his body certainly did too.
Charles slid his hands all along the expanse of Arthur’s bare back before trailing down to his ass, gripping tightly. Arthur felt the blunt head against his rim. He tried his best to be patient, honest to God, but Arthur needed him inside and he needed it now. He rocked back, sucking in Charles’ tip. He had to slap a hand over his own mouth, a loud shout clawing its way through Arthur’s throat.
Charles chuckled behind him and inserted himself further into Arthur. When Charles bottomed out, both men panted harshly. Arthur doubted either of them were going to last. It took a while for either of them to move, scared that if they started their fun would be over too soon.
Finally, Charles pulled his hips back and thrust himself in hard. Arthur moaned, back arching. Charles took a slow but rough pace with Arthur, driving him absolutely insane.
Unbeknownst to them, John and Abigail had agreed to let Jack help with a little bit of the horse work. He was small and couldn’t do much, but Abigail worried he wasn’t moving enough, and John would do anything she asked so…
They opened the barn doors and stepped inside. Jack’s eyes lit up as he turned to stare at all the horses. Abigail and John pointed out all the names, with John even explaining their breed and origins. Abigail smiled fondly at their family, finally working itself out after years.
Above her, a grunt rang out. She glanced up at the source, somewhere in the hayloft. John and Jack hadn’t seemed to notice it yet, engrossed in a story about John’s horse, Rachel. She didn’t hear much else, so she focused back in on her two boys.
Then, another grunt filled the barn, deeper, and followed by rustling. This time, Jack and John both heard it. John and Abigail shared a look of concern and confusion.
“Prolly Uncle half drunk,” John said with a shrug.
Abigail could believe that, but she still worried. “Can you go check please?” She stared at him with those eyes and God damnit, of course he would.
He nodded. “Wait here.” John began to climb the ladder, faint groans becoming a little louder with each bar. He hoisted himself up and- “What the fuck?!” John yelled. Arthur and Charles jumped and moved to cover themselves up poorly.
“What is it John?” Abigail asked from down below. He could hear the worry in her voice.
“Just get the boy out of here,” he barked back. His hands covered his eyes. Maybe he should’ve told her that everything was okay so she didn’t go alert the camp, but pardon him for not thinking clearly after/while seeing his brother get pounded into.
Nudity wasn’t a big deal around camp. How could it be when their only bathing options were whatever river or lake was nearby. Not to mention that most people shared small tents without doors, leaving no room for privacy as people changed. He’d seen Arthur naked probably hundreds of times, but this… this was different.
“So uh-” Arthur started. John carefully opened his eyes and noticed the pants strewn over Arthur’s groin, not actually being worn but just placed over his nudity. Charles was only covered by Arthur. Both of the men caught looked horrified. Charles was usually really good at controlling his face and hiding his emotions, but John almost laughed at the shame written across his face.
“Since when?”
Arthur shared a look with Charles. “Maybe a couple months?”
“Oh, what the fuck,” John groaned, shaking his head. “Is it…?” He gestured between them, speechless. He cleared his throat. “Is this strictly physical or…”
“Hey, maybe we could continue this conversation when I don’t have a man inside of me,” Arthur offered eloquently. Charles and John both grimaced.
“Jesus Christ. Just, uh, come find me at some point. A while from now. After I’ve plucked out both my eyes.” John moved to lower himself back down the ladder. “And bathe yourselves so I ain’t gotta smell this again.”
With that, his head disappeared down the edge of the loft. Arthur and Charles turned to each other, still interconnected down below.
“Well, shit.” The two men, still painfully hard, finished up (literally) and did as John asked, washing themselves in the river near camp.
Later that night, Arthur saw John staring into the space near the tree line.
Arthur walked up to him. “Marston,” he greeted.
John didn’t make eye contact. He took a long drag of his cigarette. “Morgan.”
“Listen, you caught us at a bad time.”
“Just glad the boy has a fear of ladders and didn’t try to climb up first,” John muttered. Arthur chuckled and ran a hand over his face. John finally turned to Arthur. “You never answered my question.”
“Oh.” Arthur took a breath.
Thoughts of Charles’ face flooded in and out of his mind. The way they laughed and could communicate everything they needed to without a single word spoken. He thought of the time Charles accidentally woke up in Arthur’s shirt, a bit tight but still comfortable. How Arthur felt pride and protectiveness in his chest.
“Yeah no, it’s more than physical. He’s,” Arthur looked down shyly and kicked a rock. “He’s everything to me,” he admitted.
John waited for Arthur to meet his eye, searching for something Arthur couldn’t decipher. “You love him?” Shock was written all over his face.
Arthur couldn’t help but get defensive. “Would it be a problem if I did?”
John smacked his lips and rolled his eyes. “You think that low of me, Arthur? Really?” Arthur said nothing, insecurity crawling in. “I don’t care who you fuck or what you do. I guess I’m just surprised. I ain’t ever seen you all,” John searched the air. “Soft? I dunno…” He sighed. “I want you to be happy. To find and keep your own Abigail. Clearly you found it in the dark, buff, male variety.”
The two laugh. It was rare for them to speak to each other like this, much to the camp's dismay. It meant a lot more to Arthur than he’d ever let the little shit-face know.
“Thanks, John.”
“Just please don’t let me catch you again.” A spark glimmered in his eyes as he remembered something. “And you being the woman? Now that’s surprising.”
“We… we go back and forth.” Arthur blushed.
John's face contorted into a sneer. “Let’s agree to stop talkin’ about this, yeah?”
“You brought it up first, but yeah, I agree,” Arthur concurred, flicking John’s cigarette out of his mouth just to be annoying.
As he walked away, heart warm, Arthur wondered how many knew about them now, but he didn’t care.