Work Text:
As he walks through camp on his way back from relieving himself, Bill’s path to the campfire forces him to walk past Micah, who leans against a tree, sharpening his knife. He keeps his head down, not interested in chatting with Micah fucking Bell, but Micah doesn’t take the hint.
“Heeeeey there, Marion…” Micah drawls as Bill approaches, smirking from under the brim of his hat.
“Shut up,” Bill mutters, walking past without stopping.
“Aw, what’s that for? I’m only bein’ friendly,” Micah calls after him.
“No, you ain’t,” Bill says over his shoulder, refusing to believe that Micah would ever be friendly.
Sighing, Bill takes a seat by the campfire, a smile crossing his face when Cain wanders over. As he pets the dog, Bill tries not to think about Micah, but he can’t get the asshole out of his mind. Micah Bell is a horrible man, but Bill has been infatuated by him for months now (even getting punched in the face up in Colter didn’t kill his attraction towards Micah), and he doesn’t know what to do with these feelings.
Well, that’s a lie. Bill always knows what to do with his feelings towards men: he represses them. And he already dislikes himself for loving men, but why did he have to choose the worst man he knows to fall for?
Micah has always picked on Bill, laughing at his real name, commenting on his body shape in a cruel way, and mocking Bill whenever he fucks up on a job. But recently, at least since the gang moved to Shady Belle, Micah’s behavior has gotten worse. As Micah just showed, he’s always talking to Bill now, trying to get a reaction out of him by using Bill’s real name, and commenting more and more on Bill’s appearance (just yesterday, Bill was wearing new jeans, and Micah felt the need to say, “Did you know your thighs are just burstin’ outta those jeans, Williamson?” looking Bill up and down with a funny look on his face; Bill shoved him hard, and stalked off to go on guard duty, horribly self-conscious about his new clothes). A few times, Micah has invited Bill to play Five Finger Fillet with him, but Bill always turns him down, not in the mood to spend time with a man who makes him feel so weird.
Why must everything be so difficult?
---
“What’s your problem, Bill?” Arthur asks a few days later, when Bill returns from a robbery with Micah and Javier. The other two look fine, and none of them are injured, so why is Bill sulking so much? He approaches Bill at the scout fire, who sits hunched forwards, scowling as he cleans his rifle.
“Oh, just fuck off, Arthur…” Bill mutters.
“Hey, don’t be like that. Did somethin’ go wrong?” Arthur considers nudging Bill, before remembering how jumpy Bill gets about sudden physical contact. Instead, he pulls a bottle of whiskey from his pocket, and offers it to Bill. “Look, Williamson, I know I tease ya too much sometimes. But…” He sighs, struggling to find the words. “Look, we’re brothers, ain’t we? So… just talk to me.”
Bill turns his head, pouring more gun oil onto the rag and rubbing his bolt-action rifle harder. He bites his lip, before sighing. “Oh, fine. I ain’t in the mood to argue. It’s just… Micah was on my case on that job. Wouldn’t stop complimentin’ my shootin’, and then he slapped my back and told Javier to praise me too.”
“And… that’s bad… because?” Arthur says, confused. Yeah, Micah being nice does sound weird, but he can’t see why any of that upset Bill.
“’Cause he don’t make any sense, Morgan! One minute, he’s sayin’ shit ‘bout how tight my shirt is, then he’s tryin’ to get me to go out drinkin’ with him, then he’s lookin’ at me funny and callin’ me Marion, and then he’s callin’ me an idiot and lookin’ at me with such… such contempt,” Bill says, obviously struggling to find the right word. “I preferred it when he was ignorin’ me. Least then I knew what the hell was goin’ on.”
Once Bill finishes spilling his guts, he sighs shakily, clutching his rifle tighter. Arthur stares at him, processing everything Bill told him. If he didn’t know better, he’d think that Micah was… flirting with Bill. But that can’t be right? Can it?
Without enough information, he doesn’t tell him this, not wanting to confuse Bill further. But he does wonder, if Micah really is flirting with Bill, why Bill hasn’t noticed those signs. Is he not interested? Or does he just doubt that anyone would be interested in him?
So, instead, Arthur says, “Just ignore him, Bill. He’s an asshole.”
Bill chuckles, taking a swig of whiskey. “Yeah. He sure is…”
---
Micah never thought he was bad at flirting, but now he isn’t so sure. Yeah, he doesn’t really know how to flirt with a man, but he thought that even an idiot like Williamson would have worked it out by now. And yet… Micah has flirted with Bill every day for three weeks now, but Bill hasn’t flirted back.
People not flirting back is normal for Micah (okay, in hindsight, he might be awful at flirting), but not when the object of his affection so clearly likes him back. Micah learned that Bill likes men months ago, when he read Bill’s military discharge papers (he wasn’t being nosy; Bill literally left them lying around in the open), and he’s seen Bill sneaking glances at him across camp. So, he goddamn knows that Bill not only likes men, but likes Micah… so why doesn’t the bastard flirt back?
In the end, Micah gets bored of dancing around like some sort of woman, and approaches Bill when he stands guard one night. Rubbing his palms against the grips of his revolvers, an action that calms him down (but he isn’t anxious), Micah whistles as he walks through the front gates of Shady Belle, catching Bill’s attention.
Spinning on the spot, Bill sighs when he sees him. “Oh, get lost, Micah.”
“C’mon, don’t be so mean, Marion,” Micah says, looking Bill up and down in the moonlight, enamored by his chunky, powerful frame, and the chest hair poking out the top of his shirt, lost in thoughts of cuddling Bill’s thick waist as he kisses Bill. Goddamn it, the thoughts he has about Bill are so soft, his brain full of pathetic thoughts like sitting together at the campfire, or snuggling against Bill in his sleep, or feeling Bill’s facial hair against his own. And the worst part… these thoughts don’t disgust him. His feelings for Bill have brought out a side of him he never knew existed, and he wants to explore it. Which is why he keeps flirting, desperate to do something about getting sweet on a man for the first time (which also made him realize that, to his initial distress, he never liked women despite his attempts to force it, his feelings for Bill showing what attraction is meant to feel like). “I just came to say hello.”
Grumbling, Bill slips his rifle over his shoulder. “Hello,” he mutters. “Now piss off.”
“Goddamn it, Bill, quit playin’ hard to get,” Micah says, deciding to just come out and say it to the idiot he’s fallen for, “and just admit it.”
“Admit what?” Bill says, glaring at him.
Sighing as Bill scowls like Micah is nothing but a pest, Micah puts a hand on his chest, patting his heart (which totally isn’t pounding against his ribs, because Micah totally isn’t scared about how this might turn out). “Aw, don’t look at me like that, sweetheart. We both know you’ve got a… thing for me.”
Something close to panic crossing his face, Bill grabs Micah by the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. “Shut up! You ain’t spreadin’ lies about me, Bell. You tryin’ to blackmail me? S’That it?”
Their faces inches apart, Bill’s hot breath puffs against Micah’s skin, his jaw tense and his hands trembling around Micah’s shirt. Micah swallows hard, suddenly very interested in Bill’s lips. He raises both hands defensively, realizing that his worry was valid, because Micah has landed himself in a dangerous position, held in place by a stronger man who is, apparently, even more repressed about his sexuality than Micah.
“Now, why don’t you just calm your pretty head down, Bill—”
“Stop takin’ the piss outta me!” Bill growls, but his voice wobbles.
“What’d I do now?” Micah cries, genuinely confused.
“Callin’ me pretty. I get it. You know, don’t you? You think it’s so funny to pick on stupid Bill? Y’think I like bein’ sweet on a man? On you? Well, it ain’t fun. And I hate it even more now you’ve been bullyin’ me about it for three goddamn weeks—”
“Hey, hey, slow down, Marion,” Micah says, his chest fluttering pathetically at Bill’s admission of liking him back. “You’ve got it all wrong. I haven’t been—”
“You fuckin’ liar! At least admit you hate me!” Bill yells, and he pushes Micah backwards, slamming him against a tree.
Pinned in place, Micah pants for breath, overwhelmed by how much he wants to kiss Bill. And, unsure how to get himself out of this situation, he makes a stupid, impulsive decision.
And he kisses Bill.
It’s awkward and clumsy, their noses squashed together as Micah clutches Bill’s thick waist, pouring all his pent-up feelings about liking men and being sweet on Bill into the kiss.
And he expects to be punched, or pushed to the ground, or shot for doing that. But, to his shock, Bill kisses him back. Letting go of Micah’s shirt, Bill grabs Micah’s jaw instead, tilting his head as he takes control of the kiss. He obviously knows what he’s doing, managing not to get too much of Micah’s moustache in his mouth as he gives Micah a hard but confident kiss.
Bill is breathless when he finally breaks the kiss, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and an adorably bashful smile on his face. Micah gives him a cocky smirk, squeezing Bill’s waist tighter (and loving the feeling of Bill’s soft checked shirt beneath his twitchy fingers).
“Uh…” Bill says, turning his head, but he doesn’t pull away.
“So, d’you understand now, darlin’?” Micah says, his smirk broadening as he puts emphasis on his final word. “That I’ve been tryin’ to say, I like you back, Williamson for three weeks? That I’ve been flirtin’ at every chance I get?”
Bill lets out an awkward chuckle, relaxing his grip on Micah’s jaw. But he doesn’t let go, instead grazing his thumbs against Micah’s cheeks and facial hair so gently, the action softer than Micah ever thought possible from Bill Williamson’s big, calloused hands.
“Was that really supposed to be flirtin’?” Bill asks, chuckling harder.
“W-Well, yes, it was,” Micah says, by now bitterly aware that he cannot flirt to save his life. “What’s so funny?”
His chuckle becoming a snort, Bill says, “Nothin’. I just never thought I’d find a man worse at flirtin’ than me.”
Micah raises his eyebrows. “Asshole.”
But Bill shuts the grumpy fool up with another kiss. And Micah kisses him back, pulling him closer, glad to have finally gotten Bill to understand his feelings—and glad that Bill likes him back.