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Arthur was crudely woken up by a stray god-ray slicing right through the hole in his tent.
Sean was to thank for that, turns out giving a drunk Irishman a knife has consequences.
He huffed and moved his hat over his eyes, desperate for just a few more seconds of conscious sleep but a flare of light caught his attention. He leaned up on his elbows trying to locate the source.
A bundle of arrow heads were responsible, thankfully all attached to the rest of an arrow, but also attached were the most vibrant feathers Arthur had ever seen.
He shuffled himself up in bed awkwardly, suddenly curious. Without standing up he reached over and grabbed the arrows, falling back painfully into the wagon from the momentum.
He examined the arrows. There was about ten of them all adorned in feathers of blue and red, speckled with an attractive brown. The arrows themselves of high quality too.
He gaped at them, who left them here? He looked outside half thinking that someone left these in the wrong place. Why would someone leave such a beautiful gift entirely unprompted? For him?!
They were too beautiful to even consider using as actual arrows. Arthur placed them on his pillow and manoeuvred to his weapons chest and grabbed out his quiver.
Actually standing up now he could admire the colour the arrows brought to his unsaturated decor. They leaned up again the table of all his stuff so to warn people that those were his and his alone.
He chuckled and stepped out into the bright day. The morning had people milling about still in their sleepwear (which Arthur found unnecessary, sleeping in the clothes you wear on the regular is much more convenient.) Arthur spied the coffee pot and found himself already walking over to it. He didn’t have the typical morning tiredness to actually excuse drinking caffeine, he just liked how coffee tasted.
He stood there next to the empty stewpot sipping on the mug every now and again, he looked out at what he could see of the overlook. He could see Tilly admiring something in the distance with her own mug.
Arthur found himself mulling over the arrows. He felt flattered definitely, but the fact he had no idea who left them there was throwing him off. He couldn’t recall getting anything for someone recently and if he did they would’ve given him a heads up before he found the gift.
As he ruminated he spied Javier heading over, the man was already dressed and seemed to be heading out but then momentarily decided to stop at Arthur.
“Mornin' Javier,” Arthur greeted.
“You looking for Charles?” Javier deadpanned.
Arthur raised a brow and flicked his eyes to the side confused. “No, why?”
Javier scoffed. “You didn’t see him leave those arrows?”
Arthur balked and took a moment to get his thoughts right, he then realised Javier was looking at him amused.
“That was him?”
Javier was now heading to Boaz but he still called out, “'Course it was him. Who else?”
Arthur watched Javier ride off. Now that Javier had said so it made sense. But only for a bit. Of course Charles would be the one to leave arrows, he did so when Arthur got him that moonshine. But Arthur hadn’t done anything to warrant Charles leaving them. And the idea that he took time to weave those gorgeous feathers in them too baffled Arthur.
He dumped the rest of the coffee on the ground and headed up to Piper. The Dutch Warmblood was hitched (more the reins were precariously resting on top of the post) and staring lazily off into the distance. When she saw Arthur her ears perked up and she greeted him with a full body shake.
He smiled as he mounted her and pushed her in the direction of the downwards spiralling hill.
He had to get something in return for Charles. It didn’t feel right to track him down just to say ‘thank you’ for something that must’ve taken him awhile to get together. Even if that man could spit out several dozen arrows in a day. The feathers alone must’ve taken a week to gather.
But as Arthur reached the river he realised he had no fucking idea what to get Charles. What could someone who just makes anything he needs want?
He stared dumbly out at the water as if it’d uncover the secrets of the universe, or at least how to choose presents.
Arthur wanted the present to have some semblance of thought. After the bison incident he felt their friendship grow stronger, Charles even opted to sit next to him at times.
He heard a distant voice breaking him out of his trance, he looked over and saw a man kneeling at a patch of red flowers, a horse carrying assortments of purple and green herbs standing next to him.
Arthur kicked Piper in his direction and sped up slightly when the man beckoned him over.
“Yarrow, a marvellous herb. Can turn a ‘sort of ok’ man into a ‘perfectly healthy’ one.” The stranger explained as Arthur dismounted.
The flowers were quite pretty and the red near matched those of the feathers. And if they had healing properties than they were also practical.
The man waved goodbye after collecting one, giving Arthur free access to the rest. Arthur would get Charles a bundle of yarrow he decided. Not exactly on the same level as the arrows but definitely something Charles would appreciate.
Arthur let Piper amble her own way back to camp as he attempted to tie the herbs together in a crude knot.
Arthur frowned after somewhat successfully tying them up, maybe it was a bit weird to get a man flowers as a thank you present. But, he reasoned to himself, they weren’t just flowers, they were herbs that were suited to their lifestyle. And besides, if Charles were to give Arthur flowers he would accept them fully.
He let that thought roll around in his head till he nodded thoughtfully, yeah he would be fine getting flowers from a man, they didn’t have to mean anything romantic.
Later into the night Arthur did his best to ignore the nervousness in his hands as he placed the yarrow next to Charles’ family photo.
.❖.
Arthur was in a mood.
The Pinkertons had the audacity to approach him when goddamn Jack was right there with him.
And when Arthur tries to justify his very valid concerns with Dutch it’s no big deal!?!
Arthur was hit with a frustrated tail swat by Piper as he brushed her rump a bit too hard. He sighed out heavily and pinned the saddle under his stare.
“You alright Arthur?”
Arthur jumped as the familiar deep voice came from the other side of Piper. Charles was standing there with a concerned expression, Taima now occupying the spot next to Piper.
Arthur floundered for a moment, not even noticing him get there but then he spoke up.
“I’m fine Charles, jus' that…” Arthur trailed off and half-heartedly gave Piper another brush.
Charles’ silence made Arthur assume he should keep going.
“Took Jack fishin' today and,” He lowered his voice to his gruffer tone, “Goddamn Pinkerton’s showed up. Threatenin' me and tellin' me they killed Mac while Jack’s right there.”
Charles sighed in sympathy. “Did you tell Dutch?”
“Yeah, but he said 'shouldn’t worry about it',” another brush. “Don’t know if I can.”
Charles ‘hmm’-ed and turned around to Taima to fuss about with the saddle.
Arthur eyed him, debating whether or not to mention the gifts, it felt taboo to bring them up even though it was just basic respect to say thank you. Arthur also really kinda wanted to know what Charles thought of the yarrow.
Arthur was combing through Piper’s mane, Charles out of view, as he finally managed to spurt out, “Thanks for the arrows by the way.”
“What arrows?”
A flash of panic ran down Arthur’s back for a second but when he peeped out from the side of Piper’s neck he saw Charles looking over his shoulder, smirking with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Arthur let out a a relieved laugh and shook his head. “I swear to god Mr Smith.”
“I can thank you for the yarrow then, I actually needed some so thanks.”
Charles winked at him as he passed into camp and Arthur blushed momentarily before shaking his head confused.
.❖.
Arthur woke up the next day to the same sunlight that shone through that damn hole in his tent, reflecting on a small object on his table.
He got up out of bed quickly and picked it up, holding it gently in his palm.
It was a trinket, made of thin blue rope tassels as well as blue and red feathers, pure in both colours, (unlike the feathers on the arrows) a few smaller light brown and silver feathers to contrast the vibrancy. All of this was attached to a bird skull clip.
Arthur hurriedly took off his hat and unclipped the pioneer accessory from the rope and replaced it with the ornament.
He caught himself smiling at it as he admired the colours and craftsmanship. Arthur ran his hands delicately through the soft plumes and felt his heart speed up a bit too fast for the complete lack of exercise he was doing. His stomach felt fluttery and all he could think about was that Charles spent his precious time making this for him.
Suddenly bashful he looked every which way and that before putting the hat back on his head and heading off to the coffee again, already formulating an idea for a return gift.
He didn’t let himself muse over how excited he was thinking of what to get Charles, but his muddled mind halted when he realised he was at an impasse again. What would Arthur get him now? The only thing he could think of he already used.
A millisecond thought passed by him, a drawing.
He shook his head violently, surprising Pearson as he cleaned the stewpot, there was no way on this earth that Arthur would ever gift someone one of his drawings. He didn’t even like to mention that he drew. It was an impossible thought to show people the drawings and it was a supernatural thought to actually give someone one of them.
But the idea was a good one, kinda, sorta, maybe…not really. Charles had given no indication that he was even mildly interested in art. Arthur couldn’t even say he himself was, he just started scribbling what he saw around the same he learnt to read and then just never stopped.
Arthur knew he had skill, he knew the seemingly worthless drawings he did were of high quality. One time Sean, the shit, had managed to snag a piece of paper Arthur was absentmindedly drawing Piper on. The action was done in jest, trying to make fun of Arthur, but when Sean looked at it he was actually at a loss for words and wouldn’t stop gaping at Arthur for the entire day.
Arthur swallowed, Charles had given him thoughtful gifts and Arthur wanted to reciprocate properly. He knew Charles wouldn’t make fun of him for something like this and a part of Arthur now really wanted to do it despite his better sense.
Well as far as he knows he doesn’t having anything to do today and Charles is just right over there chopping wood. If Arthur were to do a not too detailed but well formed drawing then who'd call him out?
It didn’t matter if he wanted to keep debating the topic, Arthur was already sitting in his bed; journal and pencil out, peaking through the tent’s hole which gave him a perfect view of Charles.
Maybe he would have to thank Sean. Stabbing the sheet in a moment of drunken outrage was a stroke of genius.
After half an hour Arthur had found himself with a page sized drawing of Charles in a pose of him setting down a log to chop, it had a simple appeal and Arthur found he quite liked it.
Subsequently he also found himself with a page of smaller sketches that were all just Charles. He found that drawing Charles’ hair when it was out was just really..fun and he couldn’t stop himself.
He was in the middle of sketching out another one when knowing snickers were coming from next to him. Arthur looked up out his tent and jumped, shutting his journal shut with a harsh slam when Karen and Mary-beth were spotted right fucking there.
“What’chu doing Arthur?” Karen teased.
Arthur huffed, embarrassed and amused. “Nothin' Karen, jus' writin'.”
“Hm, looked an awful lot like you was drawing Charles.”
Mary-beth giggled at Karen’s comment. “More than once too.”
“You best keep your eyes to yourselves ladies,” Arthur sneered but not coldly.
“Ooo so you ain’t denying it, we all see you with that pretty thing on your hat. That was from Charles wasn’t it?” Karen joked.
“Shuttup.” Arthur bashfully drawled, running his fingers over the feathers.
The girls laughed whole-heartedly, leaving Arthur sitting there blushing as he opened the journal again and took in the little scribbles. He traced them over with his hand and sighed. His heart pounding as he felt his cheeks burn.
Charles was just that type of person who translated well onto paper. It didn’t matter if Arthur felt giddy every time he started a new sketch of Charles.
Arthur braced to rip out the page and then did so cleanly. He really did like this drawing he reflected again, maybe this wasn’t as dumb of an idea as he thought.
That night he laid in bed watching where he planted the folded up paper underneath Charles’ family photo. He couldn’t help himself from staring at it.
He froze as he saw Charles head to his tent, stepping delicately to not disturb Javier. Arthur’s breath hitched when he saw Charles flick his head to the paper, only for him to continue settling down to sleep.
Arthur folded his arms under his pillow, he then scoffed incredulously and forced himself to turn over to face the wagon, taking the pillow with him into an awkwardly placed hug. He sighed into the pillow and closed his eyes.
This was getting out of hand.
.❖.
Arthur sat in the middle of the log at the campfire, the wolf skins he had managed to procure for Pearson proved worth it as the once splintered wood was replaced with soft furs.
He was allowing himself to bask in the warmth of the flames. A thick layer of cloud stretched across the night sky, rendering it pitch black.
Hosea, Sean, Javier and Bill were also sitting around the fire. Javier was strumming without a goal on his guitar, filling the atmosphere with sweet melodies. Arthur could listen to him play all day and night, sometimes he actually does, not that he’d tell Javier that.
Sean and Bill were bickering over something or other, Arthur had droned out the Irish and southern rambling ages ago, now they were just white noise.
Hosea sat across from him on the ground, only him and Arthur were sitting in peaceful silence, happy to just listen to the ambience.
Arthur felt a presence to the left of him and nearly flinched as Charles sat down.
“Hey Charles,” He blurted, snapping himself out of a trance.
“Hey Arthur,” Charles returned, less monotoned than he usually would. He was wearing that green tunic Arthur sometimes saw Charles wear, Arthur always thought it looked really cosy.
Unsure what to say Arthur resigned to staring back at the fire, on the side where Charles sat Arthur could feel the entire length of himself burning up.
He swallowed and started to fidget with his hands, desperately trying to stop himself from jackhammering his leg.
Charles’ presence drew closer without warning and Arthur damn near spasmed when his breath ghosted across his ear.
“You’re quite good at drawing you know,”
Arthur could feel the smile on Charles’ face and it took him a moment to register what he said, when he did though he half-cough-half-laughed as quietly as possible. Hosea lifted a brow but didn’t pry.
“I- uh, thanks Charles,” He fumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.
Charles grinned subtly and readjusted back to how how was sitting, Arthur found himself missing the warmth, at least he was still sitting right there.
They sat contently without talking, Charles was the only person Arthur had never felt the need to take up silence with unnecessary chatter. Him simply being there was enough.
And my god was Arthur aware he was there.
Arthur flicked his eyes to Charles, trying to sneak a look but he flustered when he saw Charles doing the exact same thing but to his hat, more specifically, the trinket that rested there.
Having being caught Charles’ eyes widened slightly but he spoke unabashed, “Looks good.”
Arthur prayed to a god he did not believe in that his blush was not visibly plastered all over his face.
Arthur huffed in a sound that distantly resembled ‘thanks.’
They sat there for the majority of the night until Arthur excused himself to his lean-to. Oh though how he wished he could force himself to stay there long enough to ‘accidentally’ fall asleep and maybe ‘accidentally’ fall asleep on Charles’ shoulder, but he wasn’t about to deal with the teasing that would come if he did that.
.❖.
Arthur was a nervous wreck as he held a bow in his shaking hands.
A bow that was not there the night before.
A bow with intricately carved spirals and loops in the wood, the ends of it embellished with those same feathers that Arthur had began seeing in his dreams. The wood was of sturdy make and oh my god.
Arthur really really liked Charles.
He clutched the bow tighter and tried to control his breathing and heart, this was big. Charles had successfully broken every goddamn wall Arthur had put up to prevent this from happening.
Why did Charles care so much? Why would he do all of this for Arthur of all people? He really wasn’t all that, just an ageing ugly man with a rough exterior and interior.
But Arthur guessed it doesn’t matter now, it was taking all of his effort to not look out at Charles who stood drinking a morning coffee at the pot, and his effort was not enough.
Charles noticed and smiled, waving at him.
Arthur returned the gesture. He turned around again and felt his cheeks hurting, the smiling, the giddiness, the rapidly increasing nervousness when he looks at Charles. It was all such a lost feeling to the passing of time that experiencing it again felt nostalgic.
And, Arthur decided, he would welcome it.
.❖.
Arthur thought that during this gift duel he would’ve gotten better at choosing out presents.
He was wrong.
Once again he found himself standing at the river on Piper, the water still not helping whatsoever.
He wracked his brain, nothing was coming to mind.
This time the gift had to be substantial, Charles had been one-upping him every single time but now Arthur needed to step up his game.
Charles had gotten him the best goddamn looking bow in the history of earth and now Arthur needed to get something better than THAT.
He slumped forward on Piper, not caring as leaned all his weight into her neck. She snorted angrily and ducked her head down and Arthur did an awkward half body roll, landing on the ground ungracefully, face down, with his foot caught in the stirrup.
Some outlaw he was.
He leant up on his elbows spitting out grass before turning on his back to wiggle his foot out.
He swore and reached to his knife as it inconveniently slipped out his holster just as he got his foot out.
Arthur stopped and examined the knife, he had gotten a carving of skulls on it on impulse at the gunsmith and he had to say he really likes it.
...
He has an idea.
.❖.
He got a new knife from the gunsmith with a detailed engraving of a bison standing in front of trees on the iron, and made the garnish a nice dark wood.
Arthur had noticed Charles’ sheath was embedded with blue and white beads, though mainly blue, and figured that the wood colour would match nicely.
Arthur tapped his foot repeatedly looking at it one final time before he would plant it on Charles’ crate. The night had grown long and everyone was asleep save for the night watch.
Arthur got up and looked both ways before making a quick bee-line to Charles’ area.
Only that line was interrupted.
By Charles.
In Arthur’s haste to check his surroundings he forgot to check right in front of him.
Charles was standing wide eyed at Arthur, faces only a few inches apart, not entirely sure what to say. His hands were decidedly behind his back.
Arthur felt like a deer in headlights, sure if anyone were to see them they’d laugh at the mirror image they made with their poses.
“Hey Charles,” Arthur finally got out.
Charles moved his mouth up and down without speaking, he then uncharacteristically stuttered out, “H-hey..”
Arthur had never seen Charles at a loss for words like this, sure he didn’t speak a lot, but it wasn’t cause he couldn’t.
Both stood stock still, clear to each other that they were heading to leave a gift.
Arthur was grateful for the night’s darkness being able to cover his blush, though he swore internally as he couldn’t help but to fidget.
Arthur heart beat was in his head when he heard Charles ask, “What you holdin'?”
He couldn’t look Charles in the eye and his own darted around as he tried to formulate a response.
He gave up, taking his arms from behind his back and holding out the knife to Charles.
The clouds must’ve either hated Arthur or favoured him as they parted to reveal the moonlight. It shone down onto the knife and consequently, their faces.
Charles’ lips parted slightly as he took it in, Arthur thankfully was able to keep his hands from shaking.
Charles took it in one hand and brushed the engraving with his thumb. Charles let out the breath he was holding and looked back at Arthur.
“It’s beautiful Arthur.”
His voice was barely a whisper, the surprise clear in his inflections. The deepness of it carried throughout Arthur’s body, flustering him.
“I-I thought you'd..appreciate it. And after you got me that bow I felt I should get somethin' better than I was before and I got that idea when I fell off Piper and…” Arthur went to make a note to slap himself later but Charles’ fond look stopped his brain from doing so.
“I do, thank you Arthur."
Arthur only nodded, really coming to love how Charles says his name.
Charles then pulled his owns arms from behind him and held up a bouquet of flowers, a shy grin on his face. All the flowers took on a purple toned appearance under the moon’s light.
Arthur didn’t stop himself from grinning and accepted the bouquet.
“Thank you Charles.”
They both looked into the other’s eyes, smiling. Arthur couldn’t stop admiring how the blue and violet of the moon cascaded through Charles’ hair. He was sure his expression told Charles exactly what he was thinking.
“Arthur I need to tell you something,” Charles kept his voice as quiet as possible and stepped closer.
Arthur nodded without thinking, now noticing the slight inch of height Charles had on him.
“I…” Charles’ voice left him. Arthur was infatuated with this shy Charles, a man whose words were always so meticulously chosen suddenly couldn’t even stumble out a confession.
“I really like you Charles,” Arthur said for him.
Charles flustered but pure happiness shone in eyes as he grinned and said, “I really like you too Arthur.”
The only time Arthur remembered his chest feeling this light was when Mary confessed to him.
He was too wrapped up on the fact that Charles reciprocated his feelings that he only noticed at the last second that Charles was leaning in.
His breath hitched and the butterflies in his stomach almost became painful. His eyes fluttered shut and he gasped as he felt Charles’ slightly calloused lips touch his.
It felt like they stayed there for a hundred moments, Arthur only felt lighter as Charles reached up to cup the side of his face.
Arthur mirrored the action, still trying to hold onto the flowers. He smiled into the kiss amused that Charles was probably struggling to hold the knife in safe distance.
Charles separated them, foreheads still touching, matching stupid grins on their faces.
While Arthur was disappointed they stopped he realised Charles was panting heavily, Arthur was then stunned noticing he was doing the same.
Yeah it was probably best they stopped now.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” Charles breathed in his ear, tingles ran down Arthur’s spine.
Arthur snuck a chaste kiss before they broke apart, as a promise.
.❖.
The night was only just shifting into the morning when Arthur was sitting at the campfire, nursing a cup of coffee.
He made it a point last night to wake up before Charles does and he had actually done it.
He had to suppress his laughter over imagining how Charles would react. Probably would just be shocked but that was more than enough for Arthur.
And sure enough when Charles lifted himself up he nearly jumped back, Arthur smirked at him from across the fire and mouthed ‘good mornin'.’
Charles glanced at Javier who still slept soundly. Charles got up and joined Arthur, sitting as close as possible without actually sitting on him.
Arthur tracked Charles’ head movements as he looked all around before leaning right into Arthur’s neck, his lips caressed him as he mouthed back ‘morning.’
Every single one of Arthur’s brain cells fried and he couldn’t help a stifled chuckle, Charles doing the same.
The rest of the day unfolded and Charles and Arthur found themselves in the same position only in the evening, albeit a bit further apart.
Unfortunately trouble comes in threes.
Sean wrapped his arms around Charles and Arthur, pulling them all together into the most unwanted hug in the world, or as Arthur would prefer to describe it; a chokehold.
Arthur was greeted with the smuggest crack-tooth grin he’d ever seen. “Hey there English! And Charles me boy! Didn’t see you there, how’re you boys going?”
Arthur slapped Sean’s arm that was currently wrapped right around his neck, Sean loosened his grasp but didn’t let go.
“Was a lot better before you got here you shit,” Arthur coughed out.
“Aw don’t be like that Arthur, you love me.” Sean tightened his hold again.
Arthur thought Sean had stopped and went to retort but the next thing the bastard said sent a cold rush right down his body.
“Though I’m pretty sure you love the big fella here a bit more.”
Charles tensed at his side, Arthur’s whole body stuttered as he tried to rebuke the comment. “W-what are you on about?”
Sean’s grin turned cat like, the stammer was all the bastard needed.
“You may think me dumb Arthur but I still got eyes and these eyes saw you too boys havin’ a grand old time last night.”
Neither of them knew what to do, Sean had already been proven right, Arthur quickly glanced at Charles and saw him contemplating killing the Irishman.
“Which means,” Sean let them go and shook his fist in the air, the next part he shouted to the entirety of camp, “I WIN THE BET!”
“WHAT!”
Arthur turned at lighting speed, an incredulous expression painted all over his features, Sean grinned down at him.
Charles did a full body slow-motion turn seeped with murder as the gang members all perked up, a chorus of boos and shouts of ‘fuck you MacGuire!’ all sounded out.
Arthur threw so many words around in his head trying to make sense of the situation, ultimately settling on, “What the hell is going on!?”
“We had a bet going English, you boys think you’re so subtle, giving each other gifts in the middle of the night and looks during the day. T’was so exhausting that I bet you two would get together within a month.” He said the next part to camp, “And I was right! Who would’ve thought old Sean MacGuire would prove himself the wi…”
Sean’s victory speech was muted out by Arthur, instead he and Charles just stared at each other. Both at a loss.
This was not how Arthur expected things to go today.
He was stunned out of his thought process by an unexpected snort from Charles’ direction and to Arthur’s surprise he was laughing, full bellied laughing. Even Sean looked back surprised.
The laughter caught onto Arthur and he found himself holding his face trying to subdue his own.
.❖.
After the exchange passed the gang returned back to the usual schedule except for the knowing looks directed at the two.
Micah was nowhere to be seen, when Arthur didn’t have time to go collect those debts Strauss oh so desperately needed Dutch made him send Micah in Arthur's stead. All the better for it Arthur thought.
Hosea came up to Arthur and Charles, standing together eating at the stewpot, a glint in his eyes that spoke of pride, his following words not so much.
“You’re not subtle, son.”
Arthur’s face dropped comically and Charles snorted.
Javier’s voice suddenly came into existence. “Getting all lovey-dovey with each other at the campfire the other night. Didn’t even try to hide it.
“You saw all that?” Arthur asked, bashful.
“Everyone that was there saw it son. Doesn’t matter now,” Hosea held Arthur’s shoulder, “I’m proud of you two,” He faced Charles, “I thought Charles’ little crush would go no where. Thank god someone has brains between the two of you.”
Arthur turned to Charles who was doing a great job at looking everywhere but at them.
“Wha- how long?”
Charles considered for a moment. “Since Colter.”
“HUH?”
Hosea walked away, shaking his head in amusement.
“When we hunted together, I don’t know what it was but I just got attached after. You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to start a conversation with.”
Arthur gaped at him.
Charles continued. “I thought if I left you those gifts then you’d figure it out, but then you left your own and it turned into a back and forth game. Good thing we caught each other."
Arthur huffed out a laugh and rested his head on Charles’ shoulder, Charles then leaning his own against Arthur’s head.
Arthur could feel the warmth radiating from Charles’ body like this, a soothing balm that Arthur knew he’d wouldn’t be able to give up easily.
But, he thought, dropping his bowl and taking Charles' hand. A light squeeze was given in return and Arthur grinned into his shoulder.
He wouldn’t have to.