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“You’re a hard man to find, Arthur Morgan.”
Everything had been distant for hours. All he’d felt was cold. Shallow breathing and exhaustion had pulled him under the tide of consciousness. He had been sure, positive even, that the end had come and he had slipped off into the nothingness of final rest.
Then warm hands. Those words. The world moved and he caught glimpses of that familiar face through darkened, blurry vision.
“Charles?” His voice clawed through his lungs and his throat like knives, dragging a weak cough through his chest.
“Don’t speak, my friend.”
He didn’t because darkness yet again enveloped him. He hadn’t been alone in those first rays of the morning sun, but it was different to have Charles there with him. The darkness felt different when Charles’s arms were wrapped around his waist.
Sometime later, he woke to slits of light cutting through boarded up windows. Everything was haloed in pale yellow. Voices trickled through the air like lazy dust motes.
“We can’t stay here.”
“Where will you go? He can’t ride that far in his condition.”
“I know. Across to the dryer states. Then North over the border.”
His mind swam. For a moment on that mountain, his sense of physicality had vanished. All he’d felt was numbness and cold. Now he ached, deep pain radiating through his body. Every painful breath exacerbated it. He coughed and it felt like knives in his chest. Red spittle coated his lips as he searched for water.
A hand cupped his face. Cool moisture brushed his chapped lips. Charles’s concerned face wavered in his vision before he sunk into unconsciousness.
#
The next time he woke, the air was warm and dry. Stars twinkled through billowing curtains, watching over him. There was a warm weight against his side. His still bruised fingers found the grown in stubble spanning half of Charles’ head. His chest seized for a completely different reason. He wanted to pull Charles onto the cot with him, but lack of consciousness wouldn’t let him. He cupped Charles’ head as blackness once again overtook him.
#
Time passed slowly. The first few weeks were the worst. Arthur could feel it still, the way death had a grip on him. He spent most of his time sleeping. He waded in and out of yellow gold dreams of running through woods and plains with the new weight of antlers pressing against his skull. When he wasn’t sleeping, he ate and drank what he could with Charles’ help.
“You shouldn’t be doing this for me,” Arthur managed to get out after a particularly strong coughing fit knocked a bowl of stew to the floor.
Charles fixed him with a stare, his eyes dark umber in the candlelight. “What I do is my business. There is no place I should be except here.”
“I’m-” Another cough wracked his chest, “going to die, Charles. You aren’t. You should be livin’.”
“There’s no saying what will happen. If you die tomorrow, I will live another day grateful I made a good man comfortable in the last moments of his life. Until you leave this world, I choose to be here. To help you.”
There were so many things Arthur wanted to say. He couldn’t form the words. Candlelight flickered over Charles’s cheeks as Arthur slipped into sleep yet again.
#
Two months passed in that cabin in Tall Trees. One night, Charles came home and said they had to move. Arthur didn’t ask questions. Charles’ sharp movements were enough of an explanation.
Charles hoisted Arthur up onto the back of his horse. He did everything he could to hold the urge to cough at bay. Falmouth slipped through the forest like a shadow. They packed light, moved swift towards the falls. Arthur glimpsed lights through the trees. Charles was too swift and too smart to leave behind any kind of trail. They made their way into the mountains of New Austin like ghosts.
#
The desert rolled its back and shivered, a living breathing thing beneath their boots. Vibrant life burst from its countless memorials to death. One of them served as a sanctuary. It had been a ranch once in the northern hills of Cholla Springs. A house someone had intended to make a home. That dream had sputtered and died just as quickly as it had been conceived.
The inside was nearly untouched. Faded curtains. A sun-bleached rug that retained the ghosts of its once vibrant colors. Two beds, a kitchen, and a fireplace. Too remote to loot and made to last in hot dry weather like this.
In the backyard, two wind battered stakes marked mounds covered in wildflowers. Arthur slumped on the bed, watching the wind play with their petals. Charles’ hand slid over his shoulder.
“Sometimes it takes death to bring new growth.” Fading sunlight painted the side of Charles’ face.
“New beginnings off the backs of someone’s ending. It’s kinda morbid,” Arthur chewed the inside of his cheek.
“Better their legacy is used for good. That’s what I would want. Someone to prosper on what I left to the earth after I was gone. I’d rather that then have it rot away.”
Arthur didn’t speak. After the ride, he was too tired to be contrary. Besides, Charles had a way with words. He raised his hand and ran his thumb over the inside of Charles’ wrist.
They ate together an hour later and didn’t talk about how long that touch lingered.
#
At first, they slept in separate beds. Late at night, Arthur would watch Charles’ chest rise and fall, slow and easy, from the opposite side of the room. He’d fall asleep wondering what it would be like to hold him. To really hold him. Not just hold him because they were riding together or because he needed support. He wondered what it would be like to wrap his arms around Charles’ waist and bury his face into the crook of his solid shoulder.
One night after a coughing fit took him out onto the hill where the air was clearer, he came back to find Charles slumped over the dinner table, dead asleep. Arthur knew he’d been burning the candle at both ends. He was ever vigilant, doing everything to ensure they weren’t followed. He cooked and cleaned, gathered food and water, and looked after the horses. Knowing he could barely help killed Arthur. Making sure he slept the night comfortable in bed was something he could do, though it wasn’t enough.
Charles woke with a start as Arthur pulled him up off the table and into his arms.
“What is it?” He slurred, his half-lidded eyes searching the room for an unknown threat.
“Shh, I got you,” Arthur said, sliding an arm around his waist. “Just takin’ you to bed.”
He thought Charles might argue or pull away. He did neither. He leaned on Arthur for support as they shuffled across the room to the closest bed. As Arthur lowered him down, Charles caught his arm. He stared up at him, dark brown eyes hazy in the fractured moonlight.
“Don’t go.”
The thud of Arthur’s heart vibrated through his entire body. He sat at the edge of the bed, too cautious to move any further. Charles’s eyes were molten dark brown and his hair splayed out around his head.
“Lay with me,” he said, his voice rumbling through the bed, a raspy whisper that set Arthur’s nerves alight.
“You sure?”
“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have suggested it.”
Arthur let out a huff of a laugh. It came out as a wheeze. He sunk down next to Charles, carefully. It felt like he might spook the moment and lose it forever. Charles watched him, then reached for him, warm hands and arms enveloping him until Arthur had no other choice but to do the same.
They held each other. Charles’ breath brushed the sensitive skin of Arthur’s neck. Shivers cascaded through his body and pressure pulled between his legs. That feeling simmered and calmed as Charles’ even breathing lulled him to sleep.
#
When Arthur woke, his fingers were lost in the thick strands of Charles’ hair. For a moment he forgot himself. He nestled his face into Charles’ neck and breathed in. He smelled like wood smoke, desert air, and the slightest whiff of sweat.
Charles made a noise in his sleep. It rumbled through Arthur’s rib cage. He remembered himself and pulled away carefully until he could slip out of bed.
At first, he thought Charles would wake, but it was clear as he cautiously made his way across the floorboards that exhaustion had pulled Charles into a deep slumber. Arthur found a new kind of determination. He pulled on his coat and crept out the door with his boots in hand.
He remembered a time when morning chores had been easy. Now he had to stop every so often to catch his breath and stave off a coughing fit. Despite the slow speed, he gathered water and fed the horses. He chopped wood and stacked the logs carefully outside the house. Even in their haste, Charles had been thoughtful and efficient. They had enough canned goods and salted meat to feed themselves for weeks. Arthur wished he’d been able to help. He wished hunting was possible. He would have headed out into the desert to do it if he’d been able. Instead, he did what he could to bring together a meal. When the fire spit, he’d glance at Charles. Thankfully, it didn’t wake him. His shoulder rose and fell slowly in the steady breathing pattern of sleep.
It had just gone nine when Charles woke. Having long finished the chores, Arthur had settled near the end of the bed with his journal. It had been weeks since he’d touched it. He felt so far away from everything he’d scrawled in those last few days. He had turned several pages and began drawing. He was halfway through shading the left side of Charles’ face when Charles nudged his elbow.
They watched each other for a long moment, drenched in sunlight that was just beginning to heat the earth. Charles’ frowned and breathed in deep.
“Did you cook?”
Arthur’s face heated. He cleared his throat. “Won’t be as good as yours but I tried.”
Charles was quiet for a moment. A small smile pulled at the corners of his lips, but worry pinched his forehead.
“I didn’t get you off that mountain just so you could kill yourself with chores.”
Arthur rolled his eyes and squeezed Charles’ knee. “Now Charles, there has never been a man who died from a little housework. I will certainly not be the first.”
“Arthur,” Charles’ voice got a little more gruff.
“Charles, you are dead tired and you have done more than enough on my account.”
It was quiet for a long time. Charles’ fingers found Arthur’s wrist. He ran his thumb over the sensitive skin, sending shivers up Arthur’s arm.
“Thank you.”
#
Embers crackled in the fireplace that night and the sky outside was a blanket of stars set into swirls of milky blue and purple. They sat together, their bellies full and their elbows touching. Charles was quiet. A silence full of thinking, loud enough one could almost hear. Arthur didn’t speak, waiting until Charles was ready.
“Most of my life I’ve felt untethered,” Charles’ voice resonated deep. Coyote yips echoed against the hills. “A sense of belonging evaded me, even at the points when I felt most accepted.”
“So it’s strange to be here and think of what we lost. I’m realizing belatedly, I felt a sense of belonging that I never really noticed. Not always, but fleeting moments. As things were burning, I didn’t believe I would mourn. Now I am.”
The fire crackled. The flames reflected in the deep brown of Charles’ eyes.
“Despite that sadness, when I think about the future all I feel is a sense of peace. I don’t know why. There’s no way to know what the future will bring. Maybe more suffering. Maybe not. I just have this sense that the dust has settled.”
Quiet lapsed and wove itself into the shadows. After a time, Arthur found Charles’ hand and carefully threaded their fingers together. Charles watched him in the waning firelight.
Arthur cleared his throat and fought down the slightest tickle of a cough. “Whatever happens, I’m glad I’ve had this time with you.”
Charles didn’t reply, but the look in his eyes said more than enough.
#
They slept in the same bed every night after. Sometimes their limbs tangled. Sometimes Charles pressed against his back, cradling Arthur to his chest. Others Arthur savored Charles’ weight against his ribcage and ran his fingers through his hair.
#
A rainstorm rolled in one night, hot on the heels of howling dust devils. Before the thick black clouds burst open, the sunset painted the sparse shrubbery red and gold. Arthur and Charles sat together on the porch, sharing a cigarette with their shoulders touching.
Charles peered up at the sky as he took a drag. “That’s going to feel good.”
“We need it,” Arthur agreed, hand outstretched as Charles passed it over. He could taste Charles as he pressed it between his lips.
“We do.” Charles’ fingers slid over Arthur’s thigh, more electric than the lightning hidden behind the clouds.
Rain pummeled the earth seconds later. They were drenched. They scrambled, stumbling back into the house together and slamming the door shut. Shared laughter bubbled up out of them as they shook water from their limbs. Arthur’s breath caught in his chest. The first peal of thunder ripped through the air.
The space between them vanished, noses brushing and mouths catching. Charles’ full lips were warm and wet. Arthur sunk into Charles’ arms as they kissed, slow, hungry, and deep. One kiss led to another, led to so many they blended together. The wet sound of their mouths and the bump of their bodies as they tugged at each other’s clothes filled the spaces between peals of thunder. As each kiss broke, Arthur caught momentary glimpses of Charles painted by flashes of lightning. He was breathtaking and shattered, the hungry look in his eyes burned heat through Arthur’s veins.
He dragged kisses through Charles’ stubble, down the roped muscles of his neck and peppered them across his clavicles and chest. His fingers slid over Charles’ sides and lower, towards his stomach. Charles’ moaned, the sound curling through the air between thunder. His fingers curled into Arthur’s hair as he pulled him back to his mouth. Arthur’s mind short-circuited as Charles kissed him, hard and deeper than before, his hips pushing against Arthur’s thigh. Charles’s cock was hot and hard, grinding against him. Pleasure burned under his skin.
They fucked like the rainstorm, burgeoning with swells of emotion. It was one deluge after another. They worked each other off, fast and messy, mouths caught as flashes of lightning licked down their faces. Charles came first and Arthur lost himself in the pleasure that overtook his face. There was an unspoken love in his eyes that was more beautiful than anything Arthur had ever seen in his life. Arthur shuddered, his cock and his hips jerking into the warmth of Charles’ palm.
Later, amidst gentle kisses as the patter of rain swelled inside the comfort of their cabin, Arthur found his voice just as sleep began to grab hold of him.
“I love you, Charles.”
Charles smiled against his lips, his stubble dragging against Arthur’s cheek. “I love you, too.”
The rain petered out and they slept until morning sunlight bathed them in pink light.
#
Months later, a dull ache pulled at Arthur’s heart as they packed up the saddlebags. It was time to leave their tiny New Austin oasis. They needed to head over the border and he knew it. He had never grown attached to a place like this, or at least he’d tried not to. But this place, where the love between them had finally blossomed, where they’d grown into each other, it hurt to leave behind a place with such importance.
He breathed in deep and pulled out his journal. The wind flipped the pages, filled with Charles’ face and his smile. When he found an empty space he cocked his head and began to sketch. Fifteen minutes later, Charles appeared at his shoulder, one hand sliding over Arthur’s side. Arthur leaned into the touch.
“Your chest sounds good,” Charles said, the morning sunlight glinted in his eyes.
“Not gonna get my hopes up,” Arthur responded, but he knew Charles was right. He hadn’t coughed in days. It seemed too good to be true, but he hoped.
“You’re allowed to be happy,” Charles’ lips brushed against his jaw, sending a shot of warmth down Arthur’s spine.
He smiled, big and rapturous, the only way he could smile when he was around this man who was everything to him. “I have never been happier in my life, Charles.”
“Let’s go, before the roads get too busy.”
“Yeah, gimme a minute,” Arthur said, catching Charles’ mouth in one more kiss.
As Charles mounted his horse, Arthur surveyed his sketch. For once felt he’d captured the essence of a place that meant so much to him. He leaned closer to the page and scrawled a couple words underneath the drawing.
When I’m with him, I’m home.