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Charles and Arthur sat on fallen trees, the campfire crackling between them. It was a quiet night– well needed after the run-in with the Grizzly they had earlier. Luckily, neither of them were injured, but some of their game needed to be sacrificed.
All things considered, it was quite a successful hunting trip and Charles found himself a little sad at the prospect of it ending. He liked spending time in nature and he was getting to like spending time with Arthur. Not that he disliked it before, but it had only been about 7 months and he just never got to know him too well.
“So you didn't run with nobody after you left home? Awful hard to get by alone out there,” Arthur asked out of the blue.
Charles looked at him quizzically– these sorts of inquiries had been going on the whole trip. He’d never met a man more interested in his personal life. Charles didn’t mind it; he just thought it a bit odd.
Arthur raised his hands, misreading Charles’ expression. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. I‘m sure you was more than capable.”
Charles shook his head, “No, it’s a fair question, I just… it’s somethin’ I don’t normally tell folk about.”
“Well, I’m all ears… if you want to talk, that is. But you don’t got to if you don’t want to”.
As incessant as his questions were, Arthur’s politeness was endearing. Charles supposed it wouldn’t hurt to tell him– it was Arthur after all. They’d managed to achieve a sort of acquaintanceship over the past half a year that Charles seldom achieved with anyone.
“It’s a long story,” Charles warned.
Arthur looked at him sincerely. “I’ve got time.”
Charles sighed. “Well, I was alone for the most part. But when I was around 14, I found myself north– way up in the mountains. I wasn’t prepared for the conditions up there. Nearly died. One night I broke into some random cabin in the woods hopin’ for some warmth, maybe a little food if I was lucky. I knocked over a couple of cans on the counter as soon as I got in there. The noise was so loud it would have woken the neighbors if they had any.
I just sat there. I was too exhausted to keep running. To keep surviving. The folks living there ran into the kitchen and found me just lying on the floor, freezing and starved half to death. Instead of shootin’ me, they gave me a meal, some new clothes, a place to stay for the night. One night turned into a couple days and then a couple weeks. Harvey and Bill. They cared for me like I was their own.
Then one day, they went into town for supplies and never came back. Went out to find them and found out they were beat to death right outside of town.”
Arthur whistled. “Shit, they seemed like nice fellers. What'd they go and do that for?”
Charles cleared his throat. “They were… intimate with each other. Normally folks turned a blind eye to that sort of thing, but Harvey and Bill… well, they made a whole life together– practically married. Folks in town weren’t too keen on that.”
“Shit, that’s–” Arthur paused, not knowing what to say. “I’m awful sorry ‘bout that.”
Charles shrugged and Arthur was silent for a while before he spoke again. “I never really came across folks of that sort. Knew men that were for it, but never the kind to settle down.”
Charles raised an eyebrow. “Really? I would’ve thought with Dutch and Hosea bein’...”
Arthur’s head jerked up abruptly. “With Dutch and Hosea bein’ what?”
“Oh Arthur, don’t tell me– you really didn’t know?”
Charles felt sort of bad for him. He watched as Arthur buried his face in his hands, elbows perched on his knees.
“Naw I had no idea, I really didn’t.”
“I wouldn't be too hard on yourself. Seems like whatever happened between them was a long time ago– you might’ve been too young to notice.”
“I ain’t too young now!” Arthur exclaimed. “How’d you find out about all this anyways?”
Charles shrugged. “Takes one to know one, I guess.”
Arthur’s head snapped up again to look at Charles. They stayed like that for several moments– Charles waiting for Arthur to speak and Arthur not knowing what to say. The silence was only filled by the campfire and the intermittent cries of the creatures in the surrounding woods.
After a while, Arthur turned his head to face away from Charles. “Didn’t know that ‘bout you neither,” he said softly.
Charles all but scoffed. “Haven’t known me very long and we ain’t talked all that much before tonight.”
Arthur had a sudden air of sadness about him.
“I’m sorry,” Charles said gently. “I know it’s a lot to put on you at once.”
Arthur waved his hand dismissively. “Naw it’s a’ight. Should've been more observant anyhow. Reckon I’d miss an elephant if it was right in front of me.”
Charles' mouth twitched into a slight smile. “Really, Arthur– don’t be too hard on yourself. Like I said, takes one to know one.”
Arthur locked eyes with Charles, then quickly looked back at the fire before Charles could fully read the expression on his face.
“Yeah, I guess yer right.” They sat in comfortable silence for a bit before Arthur spoke again. “Would you ever fool around with anybody in the gang?” he asked, still looking down.
Charles’ eyebrows shot up. Normally, that would not be an absurd question to ask, but given the context of their last exchange…
“Look, I’m not in the business of foolin’ around with curious fellas. Never ends well for anybody.”
Arthur immediately grew red. “That’s not what I– I really wasn’t tryin’ too–” he sighed. “It was just a question.”
Charles studied his face. He seemed genuine enough. “Yeah, I would,” he replied. “If I took an interest in anyone.”
Arthur hummed in acknowledgment.
“You ask too many questions, Arthur Morgan,” Charles said with a fond smile.
“I’ve been told.”
A few weeks later, the gang had their first party since Sean was rescued from Blackwater.
Charles smiled to himself as he watched everyone let loose for the first time in weeks. As usual, Molly was talking to Dutch. Sean to Karen and Kieran to Mary-Beth. A crowd had formed around Javier as he strummed his guitar. A second, slightly smaller crowd formed around Uncle as he drunkenly belted out a song that everyone except Charles seemed to know. And he chuckled as he watched Arthur knock back bottle after bottle and float from person to person, laughing and singing and dancing with the rest of them.
Though it hadn’t been long, he felt himself growing fonder of Arthur by the day. Sure, Charles observed everyone in the gang, but he paid particular attention to Arthur. He noticed how Arthur always helped out around camp, whether he was in the mood or not. Saw how he carved out time in his day to talk to check up on the girls or spend time with Jack. At times, Charles would find him wrapped up in that journal of his, writing about who knows what.
Charles also noticed how agitated he had become lately, concealing it with ill-timed sarcasm, or on bad days, alcohol. After seeing all he does for the gang, Charles was glad Arthur was finally blowing off steam.
Charles himself had only had a few beers and was happy to watch the festivities from afar. At some point in the night, Charles quietly withdrew from camp and retired to the woods for a bit of peace and quiet. And he figured it wouldn’t hurt for someone to keep watch while the others enjoyed themselves.
He must’ve only been out there for all around fifteen minutes before he heard footsteps walking– no, stumbling– towards him.
“Charles?”
Arthur.
“Yeah, I’m here,” he called back, setting his rifle to the side. He waited for Arthur to reach him before he shifted over, making space for him to sit on the log he’d been occupying.
“Hey,” he greeted as Arthur sat down. Charles saw that he’d abandoned his hat somewhere back at camp and his cheeks were flushed from the alcohol.
“Was lookin’ for you,” Arthur started. “Figured you'd be out here, hidin’ from all that noise.”
Charles fought back a smile. People rarely came looking for him unless they needed something, but Arthur had a strange habit of checking in on him.
He noticed Arthur anxiously biting his lower lip.
“You okay, Arthur?”
He nodded. “I was just thinkin’ ‘bout what you said that night after we went hunting.”
Charles’ eyebrows rose. “I remember sayin’ a lot.”
“That thing you said about not wantin’ to mess with curious fellers.”
Charles was starting to see where the conversation was heading, and the few drinks in his system weren’t nearly enough for him to be entertaining it. Sure, he found Arthur attractive– maybe more than he was willing to admit– but he’d made that rule for himself long ago and he was sticking to it. “Listen, Arthur, I–”
“Well I ain’t curious. Had that phase a long while ago.”
“Oh.” It made sense. Charles felt a little stupid for not seeing it earlier.
“Just cause I–” he hiccuped. “Just cause I didn’t know nothin’ about you or Dutch or Hosea, don’t mean I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout myself.”
Charles’ expression softened. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Arthur shrugged. “Wasn’t the right time, I guess. You was already makin’ assumptions ‘bout me, so I figured, Hell, I ain’t gon’ burst his bubble.”
“Well you could’ve. I wouldn’t have minded.”
Once they locked eyes, it was only a matter of time before Arthur’s self-restraint completely dissolved. He lunged forward, seizing both sides of Charles’ face and pressing their lips into a fervent kiss.
They remained intertwined for some time, their mouths, bodies, and hands inseparable from each other.
Eventually, Arthur repositioned himself so that he was straddling him. Charles couldn’t help but groan as Arthur teased the skin at his neck and ground his jeans against his, desperate for some friction.
Only then did Charles realize that things had gone too far. He tried gently pushing Arthur away, but Arthur wasn’t the slightest bit interested in stopping.
“Arthur. Arthur, please.”
Finally, Arthur pulled away in a drunken haze. “What’s wrong?” he breathed out, chest heaving from the physical exertion.
Charles’ breath was taken away as he looked at the man on top of him. Arthur’s lips were swollen and red, his golden brown hair was in complete disarray, and he was looking at Charles like he was the only thing in the world.
“Nothing” Charles wanted to say and then continue kissing him until the sun rose.
Instead, he said, “You’re drunk, Arthur.”
“Just barely.”
“Bullshit.”
“So what if I am? It don’t matter. Already started, might as well finish.” Arthur squirmed on Charles’ lap. He sucked in a sharp breath and took hold of Arthur’s hips to still him.
“Arthur, please. It matters to me. It ain’t right to fool around with a drunk man like this.”
“S’fine by me,” Arthur said, shrugging.
Charles sighed. “What if I was drunk and you weren’t? Would you want to mess around then?”
To Charles' surprise, Arthur laughed. “I guess yer right, big man. Sounds indecent when you put it like that.”
Charles smiled at him and gave Arthur two quick pats on the back. “Good, now get up, let’s get you to bed.”
It was a bit of a struggle– Arthur was by no means a small man. As they walked back to camp, Charles had Arthur's arm draped over his shoulder while he wrapped his own arm around Arthur's waist to keep him from falling. Eventually, they arrived at Arthur's bed and Charles gently lowered him onto it.
Arthur couldn't help but giggle as Charles took off his boots.
Charles shook his head. “You’re a fool, Arthur,” he said fondly, slipping the second boot off and putting it next to first. Then, as he made his way out of the tent, Arthur called after him.
“Charles?”
“Yeah, Arthur?”
“You sure you can’t stay with me? We don’t even have to do nothin’, just sleep.”
Charles' heart fluttered at the suggestion, but he shook his head.
“Arthur, you barely fit in your cot alone.” Charles nodded to the outside of the tent. “And I’m not sure the gang would take too kindly to that– especially Micah.”
Arthur groaned. “Fuck Micah.”
Charles laughed. “Agreed.” He stepped out of the tent. “See you in the morning, Arthur.”
“Night, Charles.”
Arthur blinked awake, the sun beaming directly into his eyes. He cursed in annoyance and laid his arm over his face, attempting to block out the sun. However, he found that he could do nothing to drown out the incessant headache accosting him and opted to get up and find some water. Arthur was parched– it felt as if he hadn’t had a single drop of water in days.
He made his way to the river bank and knelt down, cupping his hands and bringing the water to his mouth to drink. He repeated the motion several times until his thirst was sated, then splashed his face with water to cool his head.
Arthur tried to recall the night as he walked back to the main campsite. He found his hat a few feet away from the river and placed it on his head. He couldn’t imagine how that wound up there. Everything was such a blur; the last thing he remembered was Charles–
Charles. He kissed Charles.
Arthur felt his cheeks heat up and buried his face in his hands. He audibly groaned.
“I’m never drinking again,” he muttered to himself— something Arthur told himself at least every other week. Still, he prayed that the resolution would stick this time because he didn’t think he could survive this mortification again.
Luckily for him, it was still early enough that the camp was mostly empty save for Pearson, who was already hard at work putting together the stew for the day, and Dutch, who was leaning over a large piece of paper, undoubtedly concocting the latest of his half-baked schemes. And then there was Charles, who was mounting Taima, appearing to be getting ready to leave.
Arthur’s feet must’ve been quicker than his brain because he found himself walking over to the horse and its owner. Charles spotted him coming and offered a tentative wave, waiting for Arthur to reach him.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m truly sorry for anything I said or did last night. If I made you uncomfortable in any way, I apologize. I really didn’t mean to and–”
Charles interrupted his rambling. “Arthur, you’re good,” he reassured. “Like I said, night would’ve gone a little differently if you weren’t so drunk. Reckon I wouldn’t mind doing it again sometime.”
Relief flowed through him. “Oh,” was all he managed to get out. “Good.”
Charles smiled. “I’m going into town to restock Pearson’s wagon– you coming?”
Arthur looked back at the camp. “Naw, think I’m gonna stay here and clean that mess we made last night.” He paused and fidgeted with the brim of his hat, tugging it down in an attempt to conceal the flush on his face. “Do you, uh– would you like to go huntin’ with me when you get back?”
“Is that what they’re calling it these days?”
Arthur flushed and began to sputter out a response. “I wasn’t tryin’ to insinuate nothin’, I—”
The other man chuckled. “I’m just messing with you, Arthur. I’d love to.”
“Alright well, that’s good. I, um, I’ll see you when you get back.”
Arthur could’ve sworn Charles enjoyed seeing him make a fool of himself. Probably serves him right for all that unwarranted confidence the night before. A teasing smirk appeared on Charles’ face. “Bye, Arthur.”
Arthur at least had the sense to wait until Charles rode off to start grinning like a fool. Maybe drinking wasn’t all bad.