Chapter Text
oO Fifteen Years Later Oo
The sunlight woke Albert as it filtered through the canvas of the tent. He blinked, yawning quietly, glad that he'd thought to buy a softer bed roll as the back pain from last time was terrible. Arthur still slept, and Albert watched him as he usually did when he awoke first. His wrinkles always seemed smoother while he was asleep, but the soft light made the silver in his hair look like it was on fire.
After a few moments Arthur stirred, looking at Albert with a sleepy smile. He leant in to give him a kiss, stroking the side of his face tenderly. “What's on the agenda today?”
“I was going to see if we could take some photos of wolves nursing for the book, but honestly, I can't be bothered.” Albert grumbled, sitting up with a stretch. He winced when his back clicked. Although he had never intended to publish books, galleries didn't seem to reach that many people. But once he and Arthur began to collaborate, photographs and sketches together with a loquacious rendition of the sum of their knowledge, they had the perfect recipe for bestsellers. Most people knew of at least one AM&AM book. “We have enough, I think. I just want to go back home.”
Arthur took hold of his hand, squeezing it gently. “There's no rush. Jack always does a great job ranch-sitting for us. We ain't that old yet, we can take them photos. Give you a chance to use that autochrome plate thing you keep going on about.”
“It's not suitable for moving subjects. The exposure time is much longer than regular photos.” Albert paused in thought. “Come outside.”
June had scattered its flowers across the landscape, lush greens and popping colours making everything feel alive. Albert happily drank in the fragrant breeze. As Arthur emerged behind him, clearly a little achey still, he too stood to relish the warm air.
After Hosea passed they had both had a silent appreciation for life, holding every moment tightly. Despite his illness, he'd made it to seventy, which was quite a feat considering how he often spoke of thinking he'd die from a bullet. But slipping away in his sleep with Mablethorpe purring away on his chest, it was the end they agreed he deserved.
“Alright, sit on that log over there and find a comfortable faux-candid pose.” Albert said as he began to unpack his camera.
Arthur chuckled. Their walls were full of photos of them both, and he quite enjoyed being a model now. As he seated himself, Albert saw the cogs turning, and then he took out his pistol, stopping halfway through loading a bullet.
“Good! Good! Stay there…” Albert said as he inserted the plate into his camera. “Now, hold that pose. It's a shame there's no way to develop these. But I suppose I could use that stereoscope I've had kicking around.”
Albert seemed happy about the photograph, not that Arthur could tell why, as the explanation about mosaic screen plates caused him to zone out almost immediately. Albert could always tell when he wasn't listening, as he instead watched birds or the trees.
As they made their way home, Arthur kept giving Cistila a scratch, telling her she was a good girl. A more loyal mare there never was, and Albert knew if anyone unsavoury turned up she would probably kick their heads clean from their shoulders.
“Remember that cyclops foal we saw in Italy?” Arthur asked. “I keep wondering if any of our animals will be born with anythin’ like that.”
“He was a strange one. It's a shame he didn't last. Things that are different rarely do.” Albert mused quietly. “I'll never forget the moose in Alaska with a single antler growing from the middle of his head.”
“Mounted less than a week after.” Arthur sighed. “Strange, ain't it? I wouldn't have cared before we met. I'd have been wearing him. I guess walkin’ the earth with you has really changed me for the better.”
Albert placed a hand to his chest, his lip wobbling. “And you say you aren't romantic. I love you, you silly old fool.”
Arthur rolled his eyes. “Who are you callin’ old? Yer just jealous because I'm a silver fox.”
“Believe me, my darling, I am endlessly jealous of your looks.”
Jack came out to greet them when they arrived, followed closely by Ben who barked excitedly. The young Mr Marston was the spit of his father, with greasy hair and a moustache and an air of brooding. Abigail had told him to shave his facial hair countless times, but he apparently saw it as rebellion.
“Good trip, fellas?” Jack asked pleasantly.
“Oh, yeah, it was fun.” Arthur smiled, dismounting and rummaging in his bag. “Found a rock your sister might like.” He passed a shard of iridescent stone to Jack, who turned it over in the light.
“That Jenny - honestly, all she ever talks about is rocks.” Jack grumbled, though he put it gently in his pocket. “Ma keeps trying to get her to focus on her sewing or cooking, but no, only damn rocks.”
Albert tsked. “Now, now. You should let her follow her passions. Who knows, the young Miss Marston may become the next great geologist!”
Jack grumbled, though Albert knew he agreed. After Jenny had pulled through her sickness as an infant, Jack had had a protective streak for his little sister. John often lamented her feral nature when she spent all day digging for stones, but Arthur had to remind him that she didn't bite people, so she was nowhere near as bad as her pa.
The salmon that they had caught on their way home were perfect for a stew. Albert was no longer squeamish about cleaning carcasses, as fifteen years of watching Arthur skin and gut their meals had made it seem normal, so Arthur had plenty of time to get updates on how the ranch was faring from Jack.
“I still have some of that delightful chilli from the Amazon, if everyone is alright with that?” Albert asked, poking his head around the door.
Jack paused. “Wait, wait. The rainforest?
Arthur nodded. “Yeah. Didn't John tell you? I don't know if you'd remember staying here with Hosea while we were gone. He taught you a lot about farming that year.” He leant back in his favourite chair and lit a cigarette, putting his slippers up on the table. Ben immediately jumped up onto his lap and settled, despite being a big dog. Fifteen wasn't too old for a collie, so he was still sprightly.
“I'll lend you the copy of the book that Al published with his photos and my drawings. We saw all sorts. There was a frog that had skin that was see through, so you can look at all its little organs working away.”
Albert smiled to himself as he stirred in the dried chilli. Although he retained a lot of his father's gruff and stubborn ways, Jack was still a curious and bookish young man at heart, which Albert often tried to nurture.
All through dinner Jack still prompted both of his uncles to discuss their trip to the rainforest, and they were both only too happy to oblige. While Albert happily spoke at length about the primates they had managed to get close to, Arthur was more interested in anecdotes about being stung by a bullet ant and when he found a leech on his balls. Regardless, the young man clearly enjoyed every moment, and after they had finished he took the book about the Amazon and Mablethorpe to bed with him with only a brief goodnight.
“Well, now that little Jack is occupied…” Albert purred, not noting the irony that Jack was taller than him, “how about a surprise?”
Arthur lifted a brow. “What kind of surprise? Am I gonna have to fetch our special pillow?”
Albert smiled cheekily, disappearing for a moment, before coming back with two plates. “I thought you might not want to share.” He said as he passed Arthur his helping.
“When did you make cheesecake?” Arthur asked, eyes boggling at his gigantic slice.
Albert felt a wave of warmth at Arthur's expression, feeling very satisfied with himself as he passed him a fork. “Just before we left. Nice and cold in the cellar for when we came home.”
Arthur didn't use the fork, not that Albert really expected him to. He moaned with glee as he shoved it into his face, getting it caked into his beard. Ben tried to lick it off, but Arthur wasn't having it, and with a stern word the dog obediently went to his basket. “If it weren't for the farming, I'd be heavier than a horse by now, you cook so good.” Arthur mumbled with full cheeks.
“Thank you, my love. But even if you were, you would be perfect to me. I would love you no matter your size.”
“Oh, yeah? What if I was a regular Daniel Lambert?”
“All the more canvas to paint kisses upon.”
“If I was as boney as a skeleton?”
“Then I would ensure you were happy and healthy, and wrap you up warm. Any size at all, my darling.”
Arthur smirked a little. “What if I was giant size?”
“Goodness, you would be the very picture of Orion. I would kiss each of your fingertips before bed, and cover you in beautiful flowers.”
“At least I wouldn't have to worry about your huge portions anymore.” Arthur said as he set his plate down with a happy sigh. “Delicious.”
“I'm glad you enjoyed it.” Albert cooed, giving him a smooch before he cleared everything away.
As he washed up, Arthur came up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist, watching the sink from over his shoulder. “Guess what day it is tomorrow?”
Albert knew exactly what day he meant, but he wiggled his hips playfully as he faux thought. “Is it… Tuesday?” He asked with a smile. “Oh, no, it's one of the chickens’ birthday, isn't it?”
He felt bristles on his neck as Arthur nuzzled close. “It's the anniversary of the first photo you took of me.” They both looked over to the wall by the table, at the picture in question, hanging framed amongst plenty of others.
“Do you have anything planned?” Albert asked as he finished, drying his hands.
Picking up the dish cloth, Arthur began to dry and put away as Albert got himself some milk. “Well, there's a little local carnival a few towns over. Then we could have a nice meal in that fancy restaurant you like so much. And then, of course, somethin’ much more entertainin’.”
Albert snickered to himself. “Fun, food, and rough and tumble? Yes, I think I would rather enjoy that.”
oOo
Albert happily clutched his array of prizes as he soaked up the sunlight, walking from the stable to the house so he could put them all away. It seemed that no matter the game, his cowboy managed to beat every single one of them. Darts, ring toss, shooting gallery, ring the bell, milk bottle, Arthur won them all much to Albert's glee and the game operator's annoyance.
“I am somewhat upset that they were handing out goldfish as prizes.” Albert said as Arthur set the glass containing the little fish gently on the table. “I think it's cruel.”
Arthur shrugged. “We could release him into the wild.”
Gasping, Albert shook his head. “Heavens, no! They're Chinese carp that have been selectively bred for a thousand years, we can't put a non-native species in the water! No, I shall put him in our largest bowl and go find a suitable tank tomorrow.” Arthur went to get changed into his nice clothes while Albert sorted out a temporary container for the fish.
Once they were both dressed, Arthur brushed his hair and combed his beard, frowning a little into the mirror. Albert sidled up to him, pressing into his side. “I know what you're thinking.”
“I know you do.” Arthur sighed.
Albert cupped his cheek, turning his head to face him so he could give him a soft peck on the lips. “You're beautiful. And you look splendid. There is nobody I would want to spend my life with more than you.”
Arthur's frown melted, and he gave Albert a tight hug, which even after all this time made the smaller man feel fluttery and giddy. “C'mon, y'fool. Let's go get some food.” He said as he slipped on his nice shoes. “By the way, what are you callin’ yer fish?”
“Hm. I think…Trelawney.” Arthur's head snapped up with a confused expression. “Well, he's small, striking, and moves his mouth without saying anything.”
Arthur laughed almost all the way to the restaurant.
Although they had visited the establishment before, Albert knew that Arthur felt a little uncomfortable amongst the fops and dandies. He groomed well, and looked the part thanks to Albert's wardrobe tutelage, but he still seemed like he wasn't fully settled. Especially when he forgot the order of the cutlery, and asked for something from the menu only to realise when the dish arrived that ‘escargot’ was different from ‘escalope’.
“Who even eats snails? It's dumb. You get more meat on a mouse.” Arthur grumbled as he made a face at the food. “Do you-- wait. Ah, snails ain't kosher. I was gonna suggest a trade.”
Albert smiled at the fluffy feeling in his chest that Arthur remembered that he couldn't eat invertebrates. “I did offer to translate the menu for you. I thought you wanted snails.”
“You're enjoying this. But remember, it's your year to pay, so this is comin’ outta your pocket.”
“It's worth it.” Albert chuckled gleefully.
When they were halfway through their main course, they both heard a voice from behind them.
“Mr Morgan?”
Over the years, Arthur had trained himself to not respond to his old name. He was a Mason now, and he wouldn't show any recognition.
“Mr Morgan! It is you!”
Albert silently fretted as he watched the strange man approach, Arthur clearly tense, hoping that no bad would come of this. The man laid a hand on Arthur's shoulder, who pretended to startle and looked up with confusion. “Sorry, friend, you must be mistak-- Wait…” He paused and narrowed his eyes. “Well, I'll be damned. Beau Gray.”
“How wonderful it is to see you again, Mr Mo--”
“Mason.” Arthur said pointedly. “Arthur Mason, if you please.”
Beau looked a little surprised, but he let it go with a smile. “Penelope and I are dining here tonight, would it be an imposition if we joined you?”
“Well, I--”
Albert piped up then. “No imposition whatsoever! Please, by all means.”
As Beau moved to fetch Penelope, Arthur leant close to Albert. “I thought this was our time.”
“We can spend a little time with them before the main event, can't we? You know I like talking to people.”
Arthur grumbled, but nodded. When he saw Penelope, he stood from his seat, as did Albert. She was a pretty woman, clearly in love with the man she was arm in arm with.
“Why, Mr Mor-- Mason, Mason, Mr Mason.” She hurriedly corrected herself. “You look just how I remember you.”
“Ah, I got a little wrinkly. But time has served you well, Miss…” Albert saw his eyes flick to her ring. “Mrs Gray.”
“And who is your friend?” She asked with a smile at Albert.
“Albert Mason, I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, both of you.” He took Penelope's hand and gave it a quick kiss, making her smile sweetly.
As soon as they were seated, Beau leant close. “So, am I to assume that… Well, you share a name and are wearing rings. No family resemblance.”
Arthur shrugged and nodded. “Yeah. It ain't the most illegal thing I ever done, but it's the one I don't regret.”
Penelope smiled and took Arthur's hand. “I am ever so glad that you found happiness, Arthur. The last we met, well, you looked so sad. I thought of you often.”
“I landed on my feet.” Arthur gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
“So, tell me how you know my Arthur, Mr and Mrs Gray. I sense quite the anecdote.”
They were all well into their main courses by the time Beau and Penelope finished their story, from love at first sight to settling in Boston. Albert had his handkerchief close by, already rather damp, but their happy life was enough to bring him round from tears.
“Our son is called Arthur.” Penelope said, and said man went pink and smiled down at his plate. “Fine young man. We're over this way to find him a good education, as we've heard promising things about the school in the next town over.”
Albert clapped his hands with a grin. “Oh, yes, it's quite prestigious! I'm sure the young Mr Grey would make a good name for himself there.”
By the time dessert came, everybody was full and tipsy and happy, the table being the most mirthful in the whole restaurant. Arthur had slowly lost his stoic filter and had told them both a short version of their own tale of star-crossed love, albeit soft enough that nobody could overhear.
“I am so pleased for you.” Penelope iterated once more as she gave Arthur a peck goodbye. Beau shook his hand for almost a full minute. And Albert bid them both farewell with a heart full of warmth.
Arthur was quiet as they walked back across the fields, hand in hand, the horses following calmly behind.
“To think that you thought your only print left on the world would be a footnote in a book about outlaws.” Albert cooed, leaning against Arthur. “You'll be part of their family history well into the next century, I should expect.”
“Yeah, well, they're not gonna have the real me in their stories, are they?” Arthur grumbled.
“I beg your pardon? My dear, let me ask you a question: When was the last time you stole something?”
Arthur thought for a moment. “...Last week when I took a beef sausage off yer plate when you weren't lookin’.”
“The fact that that's what you bring up proves my point. Now, when did you last kill someone?”
Again, he had to think. “...When that guy tried to rustle our cattle five years ago.” He looked at Albert. “Does that count?”
“Precisely my point. You only did those things out of necessity. Not greed, not hatred, not because you are evil. Now, one more word against you from those lips and you shan't be getting any…well, you know what you get for special occasions.”
Chuckling, Arthur let his hand trail down Albert's back to cup his ass. “Never gets old, that. What about the other thing?”
“Hm. Perhaps, if you're a good boy.”
oOo
They both flopped back against the pillows, panting and sweaty, not at all as sprightly as they used to be. Still, they made it work, being sure that they didn't strain themselves.
Arthur rolled onto his side and cuddled close to Albert, nuzzling his cheek into his chest, his fingertip lazily drawing swirls on his skin. Albert sighed happily and placed a hand on his head, combing through his hair.
“Happy photoversary, my darling.” Albert whispered.
“So glad I wandered into that clearing.” Arthur replied sleepily. “I'd be dead by now if I hadn't happened by.”
“Whatever fates have weaved us together have my eternal gratitude. You saved me from wild animals--”
“And you saved me from myself.” Arthur mumbled, his head growing heavier on Albert's chest. “G’night, Al.”
“Sweet dreams, my angel.” He replied softly, watching his face slacken as he began to snooze. Heaven. This was heaven. The silly running around each other, the bad experiences, the gunsmoke and blood, it was all a distant memory. All that time, afraid, unsure, wanting to call Arthur his own.
Now he was.
Forever.