An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith
Characters: Arthur Morgan, Charles Smith (Red Dead Redemption), Mary Gillis Linton (mentioned)
Additional Tags: Drunkenness, Drunk Sex, Jealousy, Jealous Charles Smith, He's drunk off his ass and jealous okay cut him some slack, Trans Male Character, Trans Charles Smith (Red Dead Redemption), Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Penetrative Sex, Love Bites, Outdoor Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Arthur Morgan is a Considerate Lover, Arthur Morgan is Good at Cunnilingus, Begging, Body Worship, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Charles thinks his feelings are unrequited, They certainly are not, Dirty Talk, Bossy Charles Smith, Hair-pulling, Praise, Hurt/Comfort, Awkward Conversations, awkward morning after babey!!, Misunderstandings, Mentions of past transphobia, Cuddling, Creampie, Breeding Kink, i think, I'm gonna be so honest this was so self indulgent
Summary:
"What's she got that I don't?" Charles says with more conviction, gesturing widely with the bottle in his hand. "That Mary woman, I mean. What could she possibly give you that I can't?" He drops his head into his hand, gaze boring into Arthur's face.
Arthur just blinks absently at him, brain stumbling to keep up with the sharp turn in the conversation. He squints as he tries to wade through the murky waters in his mind, grasping at what possibly might have prompted this from Charles. He vaguely remembers bringing up Mary, though at this point it feels like it was hours ago.
"Whaddya mean, Charles?" Arthur asks, letting his head lull to the side to rest against his shoulder. "Mary ain't—ain't givin' me anythin'. Hell, she wouldn' give me the time'a day if I asked." Charles huffs out a breath, sitting up straight and slamming the bottom of his empty bottle against the ground.
"You love her," Charles says, pointing an accusatory finger in Arthur's direction, "and she ain't even treat you right, not now, not ever."
~
To those of you that happened to read the little snippet I posted I don’t even know HOW long ago, I’ve finally finished and posted the fic!! Please enjoy!!
(inspired by @cowboah-baby and @gathersnomoths’s comments on my “Charles Smith Has An Oral Fixation” post)
Arthur had just finished depositing the days’ hunting with Pearson when he caught sight of Javier and Charles sitting across from one another at the small table where Tilly and Hosea routinely kicked the rest of the gang’s asses in dominoes.
“If you’d stop squirming I’d be done already,” Arthur overheard Javier saying as he walked up. Javier had one of Charles’ hands pinned flat against the table, and was doing something with a small metal tool to the tips of Charles’ fingers. Charles was soaking his other hand in a tin cup, pouting moodily as he was picked and prodded at.
“You still haven’t explained why this is necessary,” Charles grumbled. His eyes were downcast, and he failed to notice Arthur approaching from over Javier’s shoulder. “I’ve managed just fine for twenty-seven years—“
“Your hands are too pretty for me to tolerate you mistreating them anymore,” Javier dismissed, similarly absorbed in his work. He delivered a gentle kick to Charles’ leg under the table, temporarily halting its rapid bouncing. “Also, it’s hot and gross here—you’ll get an infection if you keep tearing at them with your teeth like that.”
“When did you open up a beauty parlor, Javier? Arthur asked, finally announcing himself. He leaned down over Javier’s shoulder, inspecting his work. He whistled—Charles’ hands were always pretty, but his nails were usually a mess. The man had an oral fixation and a bad habit of picking and chewing at his nail beds when he didn’t have another distraction easily available. “Mighty fine work, Mr. Escuella.”
Javier pushed Arthur out of his space with one hand, distracted. He focused on using the sharp pair of tweezers to pluck and cut at the cuticle of Charles’ thumb. “You can thank me by getting your ‘big man’ to stop wriggling like a little kid,” he grunted.
Arthur caught Charles’ eyes, grinning at the look of abject misery his lover shot him. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he cajoled, reaching out to pet a stray lock of Charles’ hair aside. “Almost half-way done.”
Charles grimaced, flinching back from the touch.
Arthur paused, reassessing. Charles was tense, shoulders up around his ears as Javier began running a file against the jagged edge of his thumbnail. Rather than his usual moodiness, the man was clearly on the edge of snapping.
“Hey,” Arthur said, laying his hand
on Javier’s wrist. He kept his tone even, having no desire to cause a scene when Charles was clearly trying to keep a lid on how overwhelmed he was feeling. “Why don’t you let me take over?”
Javier looked up, frowning, then caught sight of Charles’ face. He sighed, tucking the little file into the leather tool roll he kept the manicure set in. He passed the set to Arthur, then released Charles’ hand with a carefully casual pat.
“Good idea,” he said, standing up and stretching his back. “I needed to make some fishing lures this afternoon anyway. Don’t lose my tools, Arthur.”
Ten minutes later Arthur had the toolkit unrolled on his cot next to where he was sitting. Charles knelt between his legs, Arthur’s pillow tucked under his knees.
“You sure?” Arthur asked again, stroking his thumb across Charles’ knuckles. He had Charles’ unfinished hand in a gentle grip, and was using his other hand to scratch gently through Charles’ hair. The younger man had his head leaned against Arthur’s thigh, tension gone from his shoulders.
“Yeah,” Charles sighed, nuzzling Arthur’s cock. He’d pushed Arthur to take a seat as soon as they’d rolled the tarp down over the lean-to, sealing the two of them in their private space. Then he’d pulled Arthur’s cock out, sucking and kneading until the older man was hard. It hadn’t taken much—when it came to Charles, Arthur was a quick trigger.
“Okay,” Arthur nodded. He tugged Charles up by his hair, releasing his other hand to carefully guide his cock between those plush lips. Charles went fully limp as Arthur’s cock slipped further and further into his mouth and down his throat.
Charles relaxed as Arthur picked up his hand, getting to work. Arthur smiled, shaking his head. “That oral fixation of yours is something else, sweetheart.”
Finally getting back to writing some Charthur fic!! One (1) like and I'll drop a sneak peak of my (probably slightly OOC) work in progress I've got going on 🤭
Alright gang here we go!! Not super NSFW yet, but it's starting to get there, so be aware!
"Ain't like that at all, Charles." His heart is pounding loudly in his chest as he turns to face Charles, crossing his legs. Charles just scoffs, sitting up straight and throwing his hair over his shoulder in the process.
"You think I don't know that?" His voice is harsh, the corner of his lips pulled down into a deep frown as his eyes search Arthur's face. "I know that I'll never be her, I know that you'll never care for me like you do for her, I know." Arthur shakes his head, desperate to get his actual point across, but Charles is too far gone in his own mind to notice.
"Just tell me what she has that I don't," Charles presses, his lips curling into a snarl. "Bet you like her pretty brown eyes, huh? Folks in camp always talk about you bein' weak to those. Well I got those too, don't I, Arthur? Don't you like my eyes?"
Before Arthur can process what's happening, Charles is on his hands and knees, crawling closer to Arthur and making the man lean back in shock, knees coming up to bracket Charles' waist, their thighs brushing. He gets closer still, stopping when his hands land next to Arthur's hips, their faces mere inches apart. "Look at me," Charles demands, his gaze locked onto Arthur's. "Look at me and tell me my eyes ain't as pretty as hers. Ain't they pretty enough for you?"
Arthur's mouth opens and closes rapidly as he tries to get himself to respond, brain stuttering as he tries to process everything that Charles is throwing his way. Love those pretty eyes of yours, he wants to say, love 'em more than I can say. Get lost in 'em every day. But his mouth feels dry, his throat tight, and he can't get the air in his lungs to push the words out through his lips.
Instead, all he can manage is a strangled, "Charles—" before the man cuts him off and continues, oblivious to Arthur's internal struggle.
"Heard she's got nice long hair, too," Charles says, hot breath fanning over Arthur's face. The blush on his cheeks is beginning to travel down his neck and to the top of his chest, and he can feel other parts of his body gaining interest from having Charles so close and so worked up. "Bet you like running your fingers through it, don't you? Well, she ain't special."
Charles drunkenly lists to the side as he lifts a hand off the ground, placing it heavily on Arthur's should before trailing it down his arm, pulling a soft gasp out of Arthur at the sensations of his warm palm skimming over his skin. As Charles reaches the end of his arm, his fingers wrap tightly around Arthur's wrist, tugging at it gently until Arthur lifts his hand.
Arthur can't remember a time in his life where he'd ever been so baffled, or so turned on from so little. His heart is rabbiting away in his chest, pulse thundering in his ears as Charles holds his wrist tightly, absentmindedly thumbing over his pulse point.
"I'll let you touch my hair," Charles says, almost stubbornly. "Want you to touch my hair." With that, he pushes Arthur's hand firmly into his hair, eyelids fluttering shut as he sighs at the contact. Arthur swallows hard, his hand nearly shaking with desire as he gently scratches his nails over Charles' scalp before trailing his fingers through the soft strands. Charles is letting out little breathy noises as Arthur plays with his hair, eyes opening slowly to stare at Arthur once more.
"See? Ain't that—ain't that real nice?" Charles is starting to sound just as breathless as Arthur feels, hand dropping back to the ground as he leans even closer, lips nearly brushing the shell of Arthur's ear. "I'll even let you pull it, if you ask nicely."
Finally getting back to writing some Charthur fic!! One (1) like and I'll drop a sneak peak of my (probably slightly OOC) work in progress I've got going on 🤭
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