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Only a couple of the gang members were aware that you were trans. Those two people were Hosea and Arthur.
Hosea knew because when he found you, around 10 months before Colter, you were disheveled, half naked, and bleeding out. He saved you, clothed you, and kept your secret. Since then, he would consistently check in making sure you were eating and binding safely. He was almost like a father to you, and for that you were grateful. More than grateful. You couldn’t have asked for more. In return to his generosity, you thanked him by protecting him, protecting anyone who needed it, with your rifle. You could help and protect the other gang members, but only from afar. You were no good in hand-to-hand combat, but the moment Hosea placed a scoped rifle in your hands, you proved yourself worthy by saving Dutch’s life in Blackwater.
Throughout the months before Blackwater, no one really trusted you yet. You had yet to save anyone, or even yet to prove yourself, so no one took you on jobs or even talked to you, besides Arthur and the occasional Javier. You and Arthur had robbed a couple of homesteads and taken quick money from rich looking stagecoaches on the road. Because of this, you hung out with Arthur the most out of everyone. It was only a matter of time before he found out, after all.
It was right after a homestead robbery had gone wrong. Uncle had given Arthur a tip about a house outside of Armadillo that looked like easy pickings. Arthur picked you to go with him, and the two of you set out and waited until nighttime to make sure whoever was home was asleep. You waited outside, a few feet away, behind a rock holding your breath, your cheek pressed to your rifle, eye peering through the scope. You kept your scope on Arthur as he entered through the front door, watching through the windows to watch for any commotion in case he needed saving. All was going well until you heard the crunch of rock beneath a boot behind you. Before you could whip around, you felt a sharp, hot pain in your shoulder as a knife entered your body. You yelped, finger pulling the trigger of your rifle, sending a shot into the open air.
You reeled around with your rifle and attempted to hit the attacker with the front of your gun, but to no avail. He was stronger than you, and with his knife buried in your back, there wasn’t much you could do to move around. You guessed this man is the owner of the house, coming back late from something in Armadillo or Tumbleweed. You throw weak punches, fighting off your attacker before a shot rings out, a body crumpling to the floor beside you, and a huff of air as Arthur kneels down, grabbing you in his arms.
“Kid, you alright? Y/N!” He said, turning you over in his arms. You groan, reaching out for his shirt and clutching onto his chest. You hadn’t even realized you fell to your knees. He put his hand on the handle of the knife.
“I’m gonna yank this out, alright?” He said, “I’ll patch you up right after,” Not even taking another breath, he pulled out the knife, and you screamed, burying your face in his shoulder to muffle it. He made quick work of your shirt, unbuttoning it swiftly so he could pull it off your shoulders in order to get to the wound.
Your head swam. He didn’t give you any time to protest, but you pulled at his arms in attempts to stop him, but he didn’t. His eyebrows raised at the cloth wraps around your chest, but he didn’t think much of it as he started to unwrap them.
“Arthur-” You started. It was too late. His jaw fell slack at the sight of your open chest, eyes wide. He looked from your chest to your face. Heat pooled in your cheeks, the pain in your back slightly dulling from the embarrassment. He made a noise but still flipped you over so he could wrap up the stab on your back.
“I’m not…” He paused. “I’m not gonna ask right now, okay? It ain’t my business. I’ll just uh…make sure you’re alright before we talk about this,” You let a sigh escape your lips. Arthur Morgan was a god send, a great man, even if he didn’t know it. He mumbled something about your wound not needing stitches, and you made a mumble of agreement. After a while, you had whiskey in your system, food in your belly, and patches on your back to stop the bleeding. You sat, leaned up against a rock, campfire roaring in front of you. Arthur sat across from you, cooking venison. He glanced up at you from under his hat.
“So uh,” He choked on his spit, coughing into his arm. You shot him a smile.
“I’m uh…I’m sorry for lying to you.” You said. He didn’t speak for a beat. “It’s not like I wanted to hide, you know, I didn’t-” You sighed, deciding to start from the beginning. “I was born..as a lady,” More hesitation. Your gut tightened and you swallowed. “I knew, from when I was young that I just…wasn’t a lady, I wasn’t meant to be a lady,” Arthur nodded, listening closely. His face didn’t twist in disgust, his expression was clear, almost understanding. “I’m a man. I’m grown, I know who I am, and I’m a man, even if I wasn’t born like that.” You let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding and your shoulders dropped. Arthur nodded again.
“I getcha. I’m sorry for…exposin’ you like that…wasn’t my intention,'' He said, genuinely embarrassed. You laughed and brushed it off, shaking your head. The two of you shared a moment of silence. “You’ll always be a feller to me, Y/N.” He said. You smiled at him, he smiled back.
That was how Arthur knew your secret. Since then, he never misgendered you, or told anyone your secret. Almost not surprisingly at all, Arthur is the most understanding man you’ve ever met.
A few months later, the Ferry Heist happened, then Blackwater happened, and you were forced to flee with the rest of the gang. You saved Dutch’s life, and the rest of the gang began to finally trust you, with the addition of Arthur and Hosea getting closer to you. Sometimes, Javier would engage in subtle conversation with you as he fiddled with his guitar in the cabins. He complained about the cold in Colter, saying that he missed the dry heats of Mexico. You really didn’t have room to complain. Besides the nosebleeds from the dry, cold air, you could leave your chest untouched. Your layers of clothes and your thick jacket made it so your chest was almost completely flat. You could chalk the bump on your chest to the layers of your clothes bunching up, not like anyone asked or noticed.
On one particular night, you were shoulder to shoulder with Javier as he played a quiet tune on his guitar. Bill was hunched against the opposite wall, snoring slightly. Micah was outside, sitting and smoking. You had no idea how he could stand being in the negative temperatures of the Grizzlies, but it was better that he wasn’t inside with the rest of the men. Charles was sitting on a bench next to you, sharpening his knife quietly. The air was smoky with the fire, and the body heat of Javier next to you was making you warm.
Javier paused his playing to sigh. His breath was fogged in the cold air. You looked over to him, and he glanced at you, giving you a small smile. “Hey there,” He whispered. You gave him a nod. He shivered a tad, looking forward again and wordlessly leaning against you. You leaned back, allowing your head to fall on his shoulder. Javier made a small noise of contentment and went back to playing a small tune on his guitar. After a few minutes, he stopped again.
“Ay, I can’t do this,” He said. You glanced at him in confusion, not wanting to say anything. “My hands are numb, I can’t play my guitar like this,” He let out a breath of laughter. Behind you, Charles huffed in agreement. You looked at the wraps on his hand, gripping gingerly onto the handle of his knife. He paused to lean closer to the fire. He paid no mind to you leaning on Javier, this wasn’t new. You were always somewhat touchy with Javier, ever since you started getting closer with the gang members. It mostly consisted of leaning on him while he was playing the guitar or standing closer to him than anyone else while Dutch was going over plans.
While you were lost in thought, Javier set aside his guitar and shifted, grasping for one of your hands in your lap. He slipped his ungloved hand in yours, his fingers prodding your wrist so he could slide under your glove and touch your palm directly. Electricity erupted from his touch, traveling from your palm straight to your face. You didn’t say anything and neither did he as his fingers rubbed up against your palm for extra warmth. His fingers were icy, but they slowly warmed up to the touch of your hand. He made a tiny noise as you pulled away, shucking off your gloves to throw them on the floor in front of you. With that, you intertwined your hands together, putting your other hand overtop his fingers. He laughed to himself, giving you a nod before staring down at his lap.
[~~]
Horseshoe Overlook. The warmer weather lifted spirits, and things started actually looking up since Blackwater. Valentine was a small, pretty town, a refreshing change of scenery from the suffocating heat of Blackwater and the chilling air of Colter. You kind of fell away from Javier, who was preoccupied with finding leads about either trains, stagecoaches, or anything in between. That and finding Sean, who you’ve barely talked to. You still sat by Javier at the campfire, albeit a little farther away. You could no longer use the cold as an excuse to be close to him.
There was something about Javier, something interesting that made you gravitate towards him. He was endlessly kind to you, even if most of your conversations were short. His voice was soft and smooth, melting under the warm sun of Horseshoe Overlook. The nights in which he'd sing around the campfire seemed to stretch. His voice carried through the trees, and even as you sat at the edge of camp, rifle in hand, you could hear him singing, laughing, and howling as he strummed his guitar. Even with the cacophony of voices that spilled from around the campfire you could still point him out. Flowing smoothly, steadily, sticky and hot. You gripped the rifle hard, attempting to cool your body with the metal. It was nights like these where you wished you could strip out of your shirt and jump in the nearby river, like many of the other men had the freedom to do. You gritted your teeth, taking a shuddering deep breath as you tried to focus on Javier's voice through the trees.
Days passed slowly, and you bide your time, waiting for Dutch's next big idea. Even after Cornwall's train, he was still itching for something else. Quite often you'd spend your late afternoons sitting near the cliff, whittling a stick into oblivion. Charles had shown you how to make an arrow, so you could finally make yourself useful and craft arrows for Arthur. You were no good with bows. Guns were easier, the mechanical clicks of reloading and the bang of firing was almost reassuring to you; the whiz of arrows flying in the air, deadly and silent, just made you nervous.
Bundle of straight sticks next to you, you positioned your knife against the wood and began to cut, shaping them into arrows so you could fasten the arrow heads to them later. Humming as you worked, you didn't notice Hosea take a seat next to you. His hands were empty as he stared into the horizon, a thoughtful look on his face. He glanced over to you.
"Making progress, I see? Or have you taken 5 steps back?" He said. You jumped, your knife jerking and cutting straight through the wood, snapping your arrow in half. You grumbled.
"What the hell, man?" Picking up another stick, you start over, letting his words dance on your brain. You pause. "What do you mean?" Hosea chuckled, tapping his fingers on the rock below you.
"Javier, I mean," He says. You look at him quizzically, brows furrowed in confusion. You never talked about what you and Javier had, not even with the man himself. Hosea was a very observant man, so you're not surprised he caught on.
"There's no 'progress' with me and Javier, we just got closer after Colter, s'all. You're reading into the wrong thing here, old man," You huff. Hosea hums, thinking.
"I think I'm right, actually." He laughs, "But don't worry, I won't judge. Love is love, after all," He has a shit eating grin on his face, his eyes looking at you, waiting for your reaction. You flush, reaching up to tip your hat down towards your face.
"You're insane. I barely even talk to him. I don't know what you've seen, but if I had any feelings for him at all, it'd just be…a little. I'm a little sweet on him. But that ain't the issue, Hosea, and you know it. That ain't what's holding me back." Hosea stands. He looks down at you for a moment, giving a solid pat on your shoulder.
"Perhaps you should stop thinking so hard about it. Cross that bridge when you get to it, hm?" And with that, he walks away and leaves you alone with the sunset. You grumble to yourself, tossing over different scenarios in your head. You had never admitted to being sweet on Javier out loud, you had never even admitted it to yourself. But you knew. You being sweet on him didn't matter.
Even if he liked men like that, could he, would he ever like a man like you? If he knew, would he even continue to see you as a man? You blinked hard, the snapping of the arrow in your hands bringing you back to reality. Frustrated, you shove your knife back in its sheath and leave the pile of sticks unfinished.
The morning sun was crisp and clear in the air. You were leaning against a tree, book in hand. Something Mary-Beth lent you. The romance in the novel was almost disgusting, but you were intrigued anyway, more skimming through the book than actually reading it. Your ears perk at footsteps approaching you. Javier. You give him a small smile.
"I, uh, finally have some free time," He says. You nod, looking up at him. "Would you want to go fishing?" He lifts up a bucket in one hand and a fishing rod in the other. You look at him for a moment.
"Javier, I don't have a rod I…I don't like fishing," You say. Which was true; you hated fish and you didn't know how to swim. Those two things combined to create your biggest fear: water. Specifically lakes and oceans. You hated fishing. You hated water. But you really liked Javier. He shot you a sympathetic smile.
"No problem, partner. You can just sit by the shore and watch me. Don't even need to touch a rod." He read the expression on your face. "Please, I don't get to have much free time and I want to spend it with you," You nodded, stood, and dusted off the back of your pants before stuffing the book in your bag.
"Lead the way."
Javier shot you a wink before turning, walking towards Boaz. The American Paint snorts as he approaches, looking up to him, ears twitching. He pats the horse on the neck, tutting him gently. You walk up to your horse as Javier saddles up. Your Black Appaloosa, Earving, grazing on hay below him. You dig in his saddlebag, pulling out an apple and feeding it to him before hopping up on his back.
Javier made a 'follow me' motion with his hand before trotting off through the woods. Following after him, you push your heels into the flanks of Earving, easing him into the trot. You give him an affectionate pat on his neck before speeding up to match Javier's pace. As the two of you rode through the countryside, you really had to admit how beautiful New Hanover is. The air cooled your face, and you tilted your face upward to feel the breeze on your torso. Javier was looking over to you, a soft look on his face.
"Feels good, eh?" He said, smile in his voice. You nod, tilting your head to look at him.
"Haven't gotten out of camp in a while, haven't done anything that wasn't a job in a while. S'nice, I'm glad you're taking me out. Thank you, Javier." You say, tapping on Earving's reins nervously. He snorts and tilts his head to the side, and you give your horse a smile. Javier didn't say anything for a moment, but his face was thoughtful as he looked at you.
"No problem, compañero. You should allow yourself to get out from time to time, it's good for you." He stiffened and looked ahead. "Look, there it is!" He pointed to the river, flowing wide and steady. "I fished here a couple days ago, lots of trout and bullhead. Big ones." He pulled Boaz to the side, hopping off and digging in his saddlebag for bait and fishing rod. You slid off Earving, grabbing your journal and pen before following Javier to the shoreline.
"I don't know much about fish, do those ones taste good?" You ask. He chuckles as he hooks up bait to the hook. You plop yourself down on the rocks, leaning up against a boulder, journal propped up on your knees.
"They beat Pearson's stew," He said, tilting his head to look back at you. He flicks the line in water before stepping back a tad, leaning his weight on one foot, hip popped. "Alrighty. That should do it," He looks back and gives you a thumbs up. You suddenly become really interested in sketching the shore and the trees. The scenery here is more than beautiful, the trees casting a constant moving shadow on the flowing water. You try your best to capture the way the leaves look in the shadow, but your pencil just isn't moving the way you want it to.
You spare a glance over at Javier, who's looking forward at the water ahead of him. You can see the way his shoulders slouch as he stands, shifting his weight from one foot to another. He isn't facing you, but you know what his face looks like: peaceful. Javier's at peace when he's fishing, and you wish you could see his expression. Without even realizing, you started to sketch Javier's silhouette in the corner of your page. Your eyes continue to bore into his back and you hear the crunch of rocks below his boot as he turns slightly.
"It's rude to stare, you know." He says, turning his head to look at you. You look back at him, eyes darting over his face and torso, not looking him in his eyes. You open your mouth in an apology but before you can get any words out, his rod bends, and he shouts a swear before reeling in, twisting his rod around to tire out the fish. He continues to reel in the fish, sighing happily when the fish pops out of the water. He swings it into his hand, twisting the hook out of its mouth. He drops his rod, placing the fish on a flat rock and taking his knife, stabbing into the fish's stomach, killing it quickly.
You watched his hands as he worked, slim fingers holding the fish down as he scraped the translucent scales off, pushing them to the side. He filets the fish almost expertly. Small scars littering his fingers and knuckles from knives and thrown punches, calluses on his fingers from gripping guns. You find yourself sketching his hand wrapped around a knife, gripping onto a fish. Once he was done, he threw the unused bits of the fish aside, patting the fish filets soldily. He looks at you.
"Could you build a fire?" He asks, turning back to his rod so he can hook up some more bait. You nod, standing to gather wood and sticks to make a fire good enough for a small camp.
Raging campfire, a grill cooking up fish, and Javier sitting across from you, legs spread comfortably. It was mid afternoon now, and you look up at the sun, poking and prodding at the fish cooking. You look at Javier. He leaned against a rock, looking up towards the sky. His hat slightly tilted over his eyes. You wish silently that you could crawl between his legs, leaning your back against his chest, breathing him in as he wraps his arms around you. Your boots scrape against the rocks as you hug yourself, pulling your knees to your chest. Javier stirs. You push the cooked fish on a tin plate, placing it on the rocks next to you before placing another raw filet on the grill. Putting your chin on your knees, you poke at the fish with your knife.
Javier pokes up, looking at you. "You alright?" He asks. You shrug. You didn't know. Something itches inside you to tell him. Everything. 'I like you, as a man would a woman' and 'I'm not as much of a man that you thought I was'. You further bury your face in your knees, and Javier shifts himself so he's next to you, your shoulders touching. He nudges you softly.
"I saw you were uh," He started, "Drawing while I was fishing," He leaned against you, and you leaned back. "What were you drawing?" You thought for a moment before untucking your face from your knees. You looked over to him and tried to read his face, with no avail. His features were soft, but eyes glued to you. Something swam in his eyes, but you couldn't quite read it.
You shrugged. "You," You muttered. Javier chuckled, moving forward so he could take the fish off of the grill, placing it on the tin plate with the other piece you cooked. Neither of you ate. A sigh escapes Javier's lips, and a smile warps his features. "Did you get my nose right?" He smirks. You laugh, leaning forward.
"I think so," You whisper. Javier wordlessly takes your chin, leaning towards you and pressing his mouth against yours. You gasp, leaning away in surprise. Javier's eyes widen, guilt staining his pretty face. "Should I not have?" He says, frowning. You shook your head, not really knowing what to say.
"No, I just…wasn't expecting it, didn't know you-" You hesitated, frowning. You didn't want to say it aloud. Saying it aloud confirmed it, set it in stone. You didn't want it to be real. It was too much. Javier steadied you, bringing you out of your thoughts by putting his hands on either side of your face. You can see the dried blood in the cracks of his skin, and his palms smell of raw fish. He looks you in the face.
"There's a lot you don't know about me, there's a lot I don't know about you," Javier says, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm willing to tell you everything…and I'm willing to listen and learn, if you'll let me. Will you?" He asks. How could you ever say no? You nod. Rubbing your cheeks with the pad of his thumb, he leans in again, kissing you gently. You push your face against his, pushing yourself up your knees. You moved your body closer to his, putting your hand flush with his right pec, caressing his chest and grabbing onto his coat. He smiled in your face, chuckling into the kiss.
His hands trail from your cheeks to your shoulders, pushing you back slightly. You allow yourself to fall, grunting as your back hits the ground. He crawls on top of you, legs straddling yours. He continues to kiss you, licking your lips gently. You whine, your lips parting. He takes the opening and slides his tongue into your mouth, tasting your teeth and gums as he explores your mouth. You nervously scraped his tongue with your teeth, sucking slightly. He tastes disgustingly of tobacco but sweetly of mint, the smell of a day's sweat filling your nose. You move your hand from his chest to his back, pulling him close to you, pulling his chest flush with yours.
Heat pooled below your stomach. Something inside you tingled, and you rubbed your legs together in attempts to relieve yourself. He parts from you, hands caressing your face, looking at you carefully. His pupils were blown and even through his dark eyes, you can see the lust. "Let me learn," He whispers, "let me learn about all of you," His spanish accent drawls thickly, making your stomach flip. A mixture of guilt and pleasure coursed through your veins, and the moment you felt hardness through his jeans, you shoved him off with so much force he fell backwards.
He fell on his bottom, looking at you in utter surprise. You stared back at him. He shook his head, laughing. "I don't…" You don't want to hear what he has to say. You look at him, eyes watering
"I want to continue, Javier, I really, I want to-" He cut you off angrily. "Then why push me away?" He says, pushing himself to his feet. You look at your hands, clenching them.
"You said you want to learn, right? Can…can you listen? I'll tell you everything…" You whisper. He nods, brows furrowed in frustration. You mutter an apology. "I wasn't…I'm not a real man," You begin. He tilts his head, but stays quiet. "I'm not like you, or Arthur or Dutch, I wasn't born a feller. I have…" Tears threaten to spill from your eyes. You grip your pants, hands tightening around your gun belt. Heat and pain tingle in the back of your throat. "I have a lady's body, but a feller's brain, if that makes any sense. I ain't a feller like you are, Javier…I don't want you to see me any differently or treat me as a lady, I'm a feller." With shaking hands, you unbutton the first few buttons of your shirt, exposing cotton wraps beneath. "I hide my chest, I hurt my throat and smoke so my voice is deeper, sometimes I even put a sock in my underwear," You laugh for a moment through the tears. Javier sits in stunned silence. "I'm a feller, but I'm not a real feller. It's scary, Javier. I…I want you to understand but I'm scared, I'm horrified. Please Javier, please," You stop, choking on a sob. You don't even know what you're pleading for. You hear Javier moving, but you don't look up.
Warmth covers your shoulders. Javier pulls your face to his chest, his arm wrapped around your shoulder. He doesn't say a thing as he moves his hand from your shoulder to your face, grabbing the side of your head, stroking your hair. He grips your hat gently, placing it next to you. You choke on your breath and sob into his chest, but he shushes you. "I'm sorry," You whine, breathing heavily. He shushes you again.
"No, no, don't apologize, querido," He whispers. "You have nothing to apologize for. Nada." You shudder into his body. He rubs your hair. "If anything I should be sorry," He mutters, "I don't know if I understand, but I don't see you any differently. I'll do everything I can to make you comfortable." He kisses the top of your head. "You're my vaquero,"
You smile at his words, lifting your hand to wipe the tears away from your face. You look up at him and almost scramble on top of him, kissing his face, missing his lips miserably and kissing right on his mustache. He laughs, taking your face in his hands before tilting your face and kissing you correctly.
"Thank you," you mumble against his lips. He smiles and pulls you closer by your hips so you're sitting on his lap. You repeat the phrase several times as he peppers kisses on your cheeks, forehead, chin, jaw, and neck. You laugh and thank him again. He leans his forehead against yours.
"I didn't know you liked men like that, Javier," You whisper. He shakes his head. "I flirt with people who I think are pretty, and kiss those who I think deserve it. It was never about men, or women for that matter. It's about you." He says. You blush, trying to escape his intense gaze. You nod, forehead still pressed against his. He places one last kiss against your lips and leans back and grabs the tin plate with cooked fish. He hands the plate to you and shoots you a smile.
"Can't let this go to waste," You take the plate from him and begin to eat. He crawls behind you and settles behind you, his legs spread on either side of you. You sit stiffly until he pulls your torso so your back is pressed against his chest. You eat silently, the day passing by.
By the time the sun sets, Javier decides to pack up and head back to camp. As you ride back in comfortable silence, you think back to the beginning of the day. You can't help the disgustingly wide smile that crosses your face.
Javier stops Boaz just outside camp, and you halt Earving just beside him. He slides off Boaz and you look at him in confusion as he motions for you to get down. As your feet hit the ground, he gathers your jaw in his hand and kisses you gently, pulling away after a second before going back in again. He licks your lips as he pulls away, sticking his tongue out at you. "Let's go back now," He says. Your face flushes as you mount up again, hoping your blush lessons as you enter camp.
As you and Javier make your way to the group campfire, you try to ignore the knowing smirk Hosea has on his face as you pass by.