Work Text:
It had been a long day, like most of them seemed to be lately. Fuels Management was one of those jobs that had nothing but long days. He didn’t mind the physical labor aspect of it, he actually enjoyed that aspect. Clearing away brush and dead trees, maintaining fire lines, hell, even the controlled burns was all something to keep his hands busy. His therapist had said that was good for him, a physical outlet and a distraction in one.
Charles hung his coat up on one of the hooks next to the door. Normally he would hang his things up in the coat closet, where one would assume a coat would go, but when your husband lovingly installs a new coat hook for you, you don’t complain about the small things. Like not having to walk the small yet tiring distance to the closet and back.
Therapy was what it usually was, tiring in that way that lingers in your bones, but you know in the end it’ll settle eventually. Despite how much it brought back up, Charles was grateful Arthur had suggested he start going back. It wasn’t that long ago Arthur had started seeing a therapist himself, actually. Maybe that’s why Charles felt comfortable taking the step to start telling someone about the mess in his head again, someone other than Arthur, that was. Arthur was a good listener, an even better comforter, but Charles always felt bad dumping everything threatening to spill out of his heart and his mind onto his husband. He had enough on his own plate as it was.
He heard heavy, socked footsteps above him as he set his keys down on the counter. The footsteps stumbled a bit, Charles heard a muffled curse, before hurrying down the stairs. He smiled to himself.
“Hi baby, how was your appointment?”
Arthur about fell all the way down the last few stairs, but Charles caught him quickly, getting his arms under Arthur’s as he fell onto his chest. The worry for his lover faded away when those lake blue eyes met his own, the stupid flushed smile on his husband’s face eased his worries.
“I just keep fallin’ for you, it seems” A cringey one liner and Arthur knew it, but it still made Charles laugh. Because it was Arthur.
“You were sitting in the same position so long your legs fell asleep again, didn’t they?” He raised an eyebrow slightly.
Arthur sputtered a little, getting his feet back under him to properly hug Charles, “I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about, love”
Despite having his face buried in the crook of Charles’ neck, the tips of his ears gave his embarrassed flush away. Charles sighed, a long exhale through his nose, but the smile on his face betrayed how endeared he was.
Arthur had been working on something in his studio for almost a week now, Charles wasn’t allowed in the room, not that he often went in there anyways. Arthur had his little corner and Charles had his own, each a little refuge away from the world when things got to be too much.
“Just remember what I said about taking breaks, hun. You ate something while I was out, right?”
Arthur picked his head up from where it was resting on Charles’ shoulder, a nervous grin on his face, “Well, actually-”
“Arthur we talked about this-”
Arthur put his hands up, “You didn’t let me finish! I didn’t eat anything yet, because I made us supper”
The small pout on Charles’ lips softened into something else, almost a smile, “You cooked dinner?”
Charles was usually the one who made sure they both didn’t starve, being the better one in the kitchen. Arthur’d been hyperfocusing on his latest project, meaning feeding himself was not a priority on most days.
“Don’t give me that much credit, I didn’t cook much of anything, just asked Hosea for his pasta salad recipe”, Arthur admitted, seemingly embarrassed about his skills in the kitchen.
Charles pulled him back in, wrapping an arm around his husband’s broad shoulders to capture his lips in a soft, reverent kiss. Arthur’s eyes shot open before fluttering shut, humming contentedly when Charles pulled away just the tiniest bit.
“Quit selling yourself short. Thank you for making dinner, love” He smiled against Arthur’s lips.
Dinner was much better than Arthur had made it out to be. He’d definitely been practicing while Charles was out, something that tugged at his heart strings as he ate. Fresh vegetables from the garden, colorful bell peppers and cherry tomatoes, basil and parsley from the windowsill, and grilled chicken and pepperoni from the farmers market yesterday. Charles couldn’t help the happy sounds in his throat as he ate, his husband had been practicing, learning how to cook, to make him a delicious meal. How could he not be happy?
Arthur reached across their little dining table to squeeze Charles’ hand gently, smiling, “You never told me how your day went, sweetheart”
Charles set his fork down, taking a sip of the sweet tea Arthur always had a pitcher of before clearing his throat, “Work was fine, we’re trying to set up another fire line before dry season hits, too late in the season for another prescribed fire so we don’t have to worry about planning another one, thank god,”
Arthur nodded, years listening to Charles talk about his job and some late night research to understand it better kicking in.
“Good, I know it’s controlled, but every time I think about you being anywhere near a fire like that it makes my heart all jumpy,” he squeezed Charles’ hand again.
“Love, I’m in wildfire prevention”
“I know, I know, it’s your job and all that- just… still makes me nervous,” Arthur scratched at the scruff on his chin, an anxious tell.
Charles reached over, taking both of Arthur’s hands in his own. Arthur was one of the few people he could hold eye contact with and not want to shrivel up and die, so blue eyes met brown.
“I’m not going anywhere, Arthur. I promise”
Charles felt much better after a shower, letting his hair out of the low bun he kept it in for work, rinsing the sweat and grime of the day off him. He found himself preferring colder showers lately, the icy shock clearing his head and easing some of the aches in his body from being on his feet all day. After carefully towel drying his hair, he settled into comfy sleep clothes, his favorite pair of sweatpants and the hoodie Arthur bought him last winter, one of many, actually. Arthur commandeered a lot of Charles’ hoodies, bought another one apologetically, and then stole that one within a month as well. Charles couldn’t complain, not really. Not when Arthur looked positively, adorably comfortable in them.
He left their bedroom, seeing Arthur wasn’t there, likely back in his studio again. He headed down the hall, Arthur’s room on the right, his game room on the left. Charles paused, smiling softly as the music drifted out from under Arthur’s door. Johnny Cash, like always. He shook his head fondly before opening the door to his cozy corner of the house, flicking on the switch to his soft LED lights and lamps, not the harsh overhead ones.
His set up was a bit much, he could admit that, but it made him happy, and Arthur never said anything about it anyways. He settled in on his comfy chair, grabbing his blue light glasses from one of his desk drawers. He liked his little space, soft pinks blues and whites, posters of games and characters he liked on the walls, little plushes and figures he’d collected over the years or that Arthur had gifted him after discovering a new game he liked. It was sweet how invested Arthur was in his hobbies, even if he didn’t always understand them. He ought to get a retro console or an emulator for the two of them, play some of the games Arthur grew up on. Maybe for Christmas.
He’d just bought another barn for his cows when he heard a soft knock on his door. He took his headphones off, setting them around his neck, the controller in his lap.
“Hi baby,” he smiled as Arthur shut the door behind him. He was in one of Charles’ hoodies again, must’ve snuck it out of his closet earlier.
Arthur set a coaster down on the desk, placing a warm mug on top. Lavender and chamomile, it smelled like. Charles’ favorite.
“Thank you, Arthur, you’re bein’ awful sweet today, you must want something” Charles smiled, teasing slightly.
A rosy hue crept up Arthur’s neck before spreading across his face, he rubbed at his neck awkwardly, the sleeves of the hoodie almost too long for him.
“I mean, I always want you, but that ain’t it” He averted his gaze a little, the great Arthur Morgan suddenly bashful in the pink LED lights and his husband's sweater.
“Just… wanted to do something nice for you. You seemed anxious when you came home, and I know you like drinking your tea when you’re in your head like that”
Was he really that easy to read? Charles’ mouth formed a small little O shape, touched Arthur had done this for him, slightly embarrassed he was such an open book.
“It’s nothin’ hun, therapy is just tiring for me sometimes”
“Does playing your games help?”
Charles nodded, taking the mug in his hands carefully, blowing gently before taking a small sip to test the temperature. Perfect.
“Helps me regulate a little. My therapist says it’s good to have something to do with my hands, some other task or goal other than worrying”
Arthur seemed to turn the thought over in his mind before nodding, that made sense to him.
“Like how art is for me”
Charles smiled softly after taking another sip, “What’cha working on in there, anyways?”
Arthur chuckled, “You’ll see eventually, ‘s not in a state I feel confident about to show off yet, but soon”
Charles drank his tea, the warmth settling in his chest, a soothing feeling. He watched Arthur shift from foot to foot, eying the room for something.
“You want to go to bed now? I can save my game and-”
“No, no I actually… wanted to sit with you, if that’s alright?”
Charles’ face faltered, his heart felt like it skipped a beat before the corners of his mouth turned up, “You want to watch me play?”
“You just look all sweet and cozy right now” Arthur smiled endearedly.
Charles looked around his room, he didn’t have much in the way of another chair, maybe a bean bag or… He pushed away from his desk slightly, rearranging his legs back on the ground. He patted his thigh, controller in one hand as he beckoned Arthur over with open arms. His husband tilted his head like a dog studying something new, before smiling and clambering into Charles’ lap, arms around his shoulders.
“You can’t exactly see my game like this, but I’m certainly not going to complain” Charles sighed happily, the warmth and weight of Arthur on his chest was grounding.
“Jus’ talk to me about it. It’s your farm game, right? I like hearing about the new animals you’ve got and what you named ‘em” Arthur murmured against his neck, already making himself comfortable.
Charles smiled, heart all light and fluttery, not from nerves, but from the sheer amount of love for his husband threatening to pour out of him right now.
“Yeah, I can do that, love”