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Your eyes flew open at a not-so-distant crack of thunder.
It was the middle of the night, no light coming from outside your tent. The campfire had been abandoned long ago as folk shuffled off to bed, and those keeping watch didn’t waste their time tending to a fire in the rain. It was lighter now, though, only coming down in a soft drizzle that tapped on the canvas gently. You blinked your eyes sleepily and rolled onto your other side, about to fall back asleep when you felt the hairs on the back of your neck rise. Someone was watching you.
As quickly and quietly as you could, you reached down next to your cot and pulled your revolver out of its holster on your discarded gun belt. You kept your voice low and firm, you didn’t want to wake everyone in camp if you could take care of this yourself. Aiming at the closed flaps where you could see the silhouette of two boots, you spoke, “Ya better make yourself known, less you wan’ a bullet through your skull.”
“Easy, boy.”
You grinned and lowered your gun as you watched a familiar hand curl around the flap and stepped inside. Arthur stood there sheepishly, toe digging the dirt as he looked down and mumbled, “Didn’t mean to wake ya, sorry.”
He was just in his union suit, boots thrown on carelessly. His hair was messy and wet and it looked like he was sleeping rough, if at all. When he looked up at you and you could see the bags under his eyes, you guessed the latter. You sat up, reaching out to him, “You didn’t wake me. Sure as hell scared me, though.”
He let you take his hand and pull him next to you on the bed, “Sorry.”
You brushed some of his hair into place and heard him sigh contentedly at the movement. “How long you been standin’ out there?”
“Dunno.”
“Arthur,” you gave him a pointed look and he ducked his head slightly with a shrug. He spoke quietly, hoping you didn’t hear him, “Ten, fifteen minutes, maybe.”
You watched him bite the inside of his cheek, eyes locked forward. He was such a stubborn bastard. You knew things like this were tough for him. One moment he’d open up to you, giddy and happy and full of love. The next, he’d be shut off and flighty. Not only was it hard for him to be so open and affectionate like this— but also with a man for the first time? It was complicated for him, and you knew that. But you were being as patient and willing as you could possibly be.
“Well,” you patted his thigh, “You’re here now, so I s’pose it don’t matter much.”
He looked up and you smiled as his eyes met yours. You moved to stand in front of him, kissing his forehead softly before turning to ruffle through the trunk at the corner of your tent. You found what you were looking for and went back over to him.
“Here,” you set the spare union suit on the cot next to him, “Let’s get you changed into something dry.”
He blinked a few times, processing what you said, before shaking his head with a chuckle, “Yer too good to me.”
“Naw,” you kissed the top of his head before flopping back down on the cot, “You’re just too hard on yourself.”
He made a noise that was halfway between disagreement and acceptance before standing to pull his union suit off, the damp cloth clinging to his skin. You watched hungrily, too sleepy to really be aroused— but enjoying it nonetheless. He felt your eyes on him and paused as he was stepping into the new suit, his muscles rippling in his back, “Enjoying yourself back there?”
“‘M a little lonely, but the view ain’t bad.”
You watched him shake his head and even though you couldn’t see them, you knew he rolled his eyes. He finished all the buttons and moved to lay next to you. He pulled you close against his chest and you breathed him in deeply, letting out a weary sigh.
“My boy,” he whispered and pressed his lips to your temple and you felt yourself absolutely melt. You hummed against his neck as his warmth washed over you.
“Y’know,” you mumbled against him, “You don’t gotta be afraid of this. I’m always here, whenever you want the company.”
He sighed, “I just... Ain’t wanna bother you, is all.”
“Arthur, you’re anything but a bother. I like bein’ with you. It’s a bit tight, but I wouldn’t want to sleep any other way.”
He was silent. The only noises in the dark tent were his steady breathing and the patter of the rain outside. You felt your eyes droop at how relaxing it was.
Blinking the sleep out of your eyes, you moved your hand to his hip and kissed his collarbone softly, “What can I do to help?”
“Hm?”
“Don’t seem like you been sleeping much.”
He shrugged, “Same things. Worryin’. Thinkin’.”
“Nightmares?”
He paused, turning the question over before replying honestly with another shrug, “Sometimes.”
You moved your hand from his side to rub and trace over his back lightly. You watched him sink further into the bed in response. As your hand moved over his shoulder, you felt the knots of muscle there.
“Carry your stress here,” you frowned.
He let out a quiet groan in reply as you massaged, “That feels damn good.”
“Here,” you sat up and motioned for him to roll onto his stomach. He did so without protest and you swung your leg over his waist, straddling his back. You watched him turn his head and look at you, raising an eyebrow.
“Don’t get any ideas,” you warned. He smiled against the blanket and you felt a smile come across your face, too. You leaned over him, placing your palms over his shoulder blades and rolling them in circles over his back. He let out soft groans and sighs as you massaged all the tight muscle wound up in his back and shoulders. You grinned to yourself as you watched him relax and unwind under your touch.
When you were done, you dropped down next to him on the bed and watched his eyes flutter open to look at you.
“Feel better?”
He mumbled something incoherent as he threw an arm over you and pulled you under him. He tucked his face against your neck and tangled your legs together and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. Arthur was much more affectionate when exhausted, you noticed. You kissed his temple and closed your eyes as drowsiness washed over you. You could feel yourself slipping away, hearing Arthur mumble something just before you did.
“G’night, darlin’.”
You fell asleep with a smile on your face.
When you woke the next morning, it was to the sounds of Arthur’s light snores next to your ear. You turned to look at him and smiled. His eyes were shut, his mouth hung open a little as he snored and drooled on the pillow. He looked a little ridiculous, but damn did he look cute at the same time.
Almost his whole weight was on top of you, so you weren’t going to be getting up anytime soon. It was fine, though. He needed the rest. You were content to simply exist here next to him in the quiet, early hours of the morning. Sounds of other members of the gang waking up and going about their day slowly filled the air as you drifted in and out of sleep.
When Arthur let out a long yawn, your eyes opened again and you watched him stretch and wake up to meet your gaze.
“Mornin’, cowboy,” you smiled.
He blinked a few times, trying to figure out where he was. A faint blush crept up his cheeks as he realized how tangled against you he was and he started to move away.
“I, uh. Sorr-“
“ Arthur ,” your voice was stern but with no trace of malice as you curled your hand around his bicep to hold him in place, “You don’t gotta apologize. If I didn’t want you here, believe me, I woulda said so.”
He paused before laying back in his original spot, his eyes looking down in shame. You both lay there for a minute in silence. It felt tense— not like you were about to fight, but about to talk. He sighed deeply after a bit, speaking in a quiet mumble, “I just— I ain’t used to this, (Y/N). I’m tryin’, I really am. But, I just. I-I can’t. I’m so..”
He trailed off frustratedly and groaned as he buried his face against you.
“I don’t know how to do this,” his voice was muffled but you could hear the sorrow in it. You rubbed his back comfortingly in response, not wanting to break his confidence in talking with you.
“I guess,” he lifted his head, smooshing his cheek against your chest, “I guess I ain’t think I deserve this. Sometimes I think I do. But other times I feel like I gotta run away. Guess I just don’t wanna get too attached...”
He paused, his fingers fiddling with a button on your union suit. He let out another sigh, “Guess I’m used to people leavin’ when I get attached is all.”
Arthur leaned up on his arm, hovering over you with a sad smile on his face, “I’m real sweet on you, (Y/N)... and I’m- I’m scared as hell to admit that.”
You looked up at him, eyes searching his beautiful blue ones. His smile faltered a bit and he looked down, starting to move away. Realizing he had interpreted your silence as rejection, you held his face and leaned in to kiss him sweetly.
“Arthur Morgan,” you whispered against his lips, “That’s the most I ever heard you talk about yourself in… well, ever .”
That earned a low chuckle, “Well don’t get used to it. That was all my talkin’ for ‘bout the next year ‘r so.”
He lowered his head to kiss you again. One of his hands moved down to hold your hip gently and you sighed into his mouth at the motion. You two had only been intimate like this with each other for a couple weeks or so, but it felt like Arthur had loved you like this your whole life. He knew exactly what you craved; knew exactly how to touch you and where. It was maddening.
He pulled away to tuck his head under your chin again. You hugged him tightly and felt him relax down against you in the act of being held. Smiling, you rubbed over his back slowly.
“Sleep alright?”
He made a noise of approval before speaking languidly, “Can’t remember the last time I slept through a night like that.”
“You needed it,” you kissed the top of his head, “Yer always welcome here if you can’t sleep.”
“‘Preciate it.”
He paused, “Best not make a habit of it, though. Folks ‘round here talk.”
“Let ‘em.”
Arthur turned to look up at you, his eyes full of concern, “Ain’t no guarantee all they’ll do is talk.”
You shrugged, “Told ya I’ll break a bastard’s nose if he’s got somethin’ to say about who yer kissin’. That ain’t changed.”
He stared at you for a minute before shaking his head with a grin, “Yer a wild one, ain’t ya?”
“You’re the one talkin’.”
He snorted and burrowed against you, “Maybe you’re right. Probably end up doin’ more than breakin’ a nose.”
You two laid like that for a bit, listening to each other breathing and the noises of camp. Your fingertips traced over Arthur’s arm lightly and you watched him shiver under the touch. It was nice. Relaxing, even. You had a feeling this wouldn’t be a common occurrence for the two of you, so you savored every second of it.
After a bit, Arthur sighed heavily and rolled off of you, “Well. Best be gettin’ on. Got Pearson on my ass again for more meat ‘nd Dutch is always lookin’ for more jobs.”
You hummed in response, taking a second before you sat up as well, “Miss Grimshaw was askin’ for help with some bigger chores so I suppose that’s my task for the day. Guess I’ll see you ‘round, cowboy.”
Arthur turned as he approached the flap of your tent, giving you a wink before heading out.
“That you will, darlin’.”