Title: What You Want
Fandom: Red Dead Redemption
Rating: Teen
Length: 1700
Content notes: Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith, canon-typical violence, kissing
Author notes: my first fic in this fandom!
Summary: Arthur gets advice - some sought out and some unsolicited.

Karen catches him by the arm as Arthur is walking past. She drags him onto the porch of the old house — they've been at Shady Belle for a few days now, and Arthur still isn't used to the way it feels like a memory — and whispers to him harshly.

Karen smells like liquor and she's not quite steady, but her advice cuts him to the heart. "We don't have long on this earth, Arthur. Take… take advantage of what you do have." She says it angrily, drunkenly, but Arthur gets it. He knows what she's talking about.

And then, as if she didn't just say something profound, she pushes against him and goes back inside, to the room with the piano. He watches as she stumbles away, heart aching for her. He knows she liked Sean a lot more than she let on, and maybe that's what prompted her advice.

He looks toward the campfire, where Charles is taking a break from working. He doesn't take too many of those. Now could be a time for Arthur to sit beside him, talk to him. Maybe ask him out hunting instead of waiting for Charles to bring it up.

He knows what he'd do if he had the balls. Maybe it's time to start thinking of growing some.

But maybe he needs a second opinion.

Not Mary-Beth, not this time. Her head's so caught up with romantic nonsense that of course she'd tell him to make a move. Maybe it'd be the right thing and maybe not, but he can't count on her to not be biased.

Hosea, maybe, if he's feeling up to it. Arthur approaches him warily, watching out for a cough or a tired look that says 'not now'. But Hosea is looking good when Arthur finds him leaning against the gazebo. It'd be a picturesque scene if not for the barricades and sandbags, not to mention the winding 'river' that's more like swamp.

"Arthur?" Hosea says in surprise.

"Hey, old man," Arthur says, already wondering how to ask Hosea's advice without giving too much away. "Got a minute?"

"Sure," Hosea says. He nods at an old crate and Arthur has a seat before he thinks he'd rather stand. Too late.

"I need some advice," Arthur says slowly, then says nothing. Frustrated with himself, he looks away and turns the words over in his head again. Luckily, Hosea doesn't seem to mind waiting.

Well, for a certain amount of time. Then he does seem to mind. "I'm an old man and I'm not getting younger here. Spit it out, Arthur."

"How'd you ask Bessie… I mean, once you figured out she was… shit, this ain't coming out right," Arthur says.

Hosea nods. "If this is about Mary, I'm going to tell you right now to forget about her. She's not going to accept your life, and you're not going to give it up. You can't make a relationship like that work."

"Ain't about Mary," Arthur grumbles.

At that, Hosea perks up. "Oh, someone else has caught your eye?"

"You know they have," Arthur says lowly. "You ain't dumb, I know you see everything that goes on in this camp."

Hosea smiles, but it's strained. "Oh. So it's this, then? You finally facing up to facts?"

Arthur looks around quickly. No one is within listening distance, but he still lowers his voice. "You know it's more complicated than just realizing something."

"Not really, no." Hosea turns, stretches out his arms, and leans against the railing of the gazebo to look out toward the camp. Toward the fire, where Charles has just gotten up and is headed toward the horses. "You should catch up with him now, talk to him while you're out of camp somewhere. If it bothers you so bad."

Arthur isn't so much bothered as he is worried how others might take it. But then again, he packs a big punch when he needs to. "'spose I can beat the shit outta anyone who don't like it."

Hosea laughs, then coughs. "There you go," he says once he's done. "Hurry up and go."

Arthur smiles and clasps Hosea's shoulder. "Thanks."

Hosea waves him off, and then Arthur is sprinting toward Charles. "Hey," he says when he catches up. Charles is unhitching Taima and getting ready to ride, so Arthur talks quick. "Mind if I come?"

Charles raises his eyebrows. "Don't mind."

Arthur grins and speed-walks over to his own mount. Charles waits right at the gate. When he sees Arthur on his horse, he heads out at a trot.

Arthur follows Charles north, then a little ways west, until the land is less dense with trees and a lot flatter. "So, what are we doing?"

Charles looks over at him. "Just needed to get away from everyone. I'll bring back some game to make up for it."

"Oh," Arthur says. He suddenly feels bad for practically inviting himself along. "You want me to head back, get outta your hair?"

"You're not everyone," Charles says.

Arthur shoots him a questioning look.

"I don't mind it if it's you," Charles explains. He's quiet for a little while longer, then pulls his horse up to a stop. Arthur follows his lead. Charles is looking at the ground, and Arthur tries to remember everything he's learned about tracking.

"Coyote?" Arthur says in a lowered voice.

"Big one," Charles confirms. "I heard a hunter talk about a pure black coyote living around this area."

Tracking and finding the coyote is easy with two hunters, especially when one is experienced as Charles. Arthur holds his breath when Charles takes it down with his bow.

"This skin'll fetch a good price with the Trapper. Might even be able to make something special with it," Charles says once the skin is stored safely away.

Arthur thinks they might head back to camp then, but Charles doesn't seem to be in any hurry, even though the sun is going down.

"Want to camp near here?" Arthur asks. He clears his throat. "There was, uh. Something I wanted to talk to you about, anyway."

"Sounds good," Charles says.

They're building a fire when the first shot comes without warning. Arthur immediately grabs his sidearm and looks around, while Charles grips a hatchet. Nearby, the horses whinny and rear.

"There!" Charles says, and pushes Arthur behind a boulder.

"What do you think, O'Driscolls?"

Another shot and a chip of rock comes flying at Arthur's cheek. It stings and pisses him off, but more than that, he's worried for Charles.

"Bounty hunters," Charles growls from his own place in cover. "They didn't surround us, though. Local guys, not professionals."

"Let's just get this over with, then," Arthur says, and lines up a perfect shot. It's dark but Charles has taught him how to deal with that. Once he adjusts his vision, he can see what they're dealing with. There's only four of them, and Arthur gets off three headshots before the bounty hunters know what happened. He can't get a good angle on the forth, though, who goes for Charles with a knife.

Arthur's bullet hits him in the forehead about the same time the stranger gets a hatchet to the face. Overkill, but at least now Charles is safe.

"That all of 'em?" Arthur asks, inwardly marveling at how even his voice stayed.

Charles turns to him and nods. Then he comes closer. Reaches out. Arthur doesn't move, can't, when Charles touches his face.

"Got a little blood there," Charles says, voice low and his eyes caring.

"Uh."

Charles smiles. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about, Arthur?"

Arthur swallows. "The, uh. We should get away from here first."

Charles nods, but Arthur gets the feeling he's laughing on the inside. Not cruelly, because Charles is never cruel, but laughing nonetheless.

---

They loot the bodies, put out the nascent fire, and ride further into the Heartlands. There's nice open country there, land that makes Arthur feel like he can breathe again.

They sent up camp — this time they get to finish — but Arthur notices there's only one tent. His heart starts to beat faster.

Charles has some salted beef, and Arthur shares his can of strawberries. It's not the best meal, but it fills them up and Charles says they'll get some venison tomorrow, maybe even some bison steaks to bring back to camp.

They sit in front of the fire long past midnight, just the stars and the sky watching them. Arthur knows he should say what he came out here to say, but he's still not sure how.

"Best piece of advice I ever got was from my grandmother," Charles says suddenly.

"Yeah?" Arthur says.

Charles smiles and moves a little closer, so that their sides are touching in the warmth of the campfire. It's a cool night, but Arthur is feeling overheated.

"She said a man makes his own fate, so there's no use waiting for life to happen to you," Charles says. "You got to grab what you want when you can."

"That's, uh, good advice," Arthur says, wishing he was a little braver.

Charles kisses him. Just like that, as bold as you please. It's soft but a little demanding, like he's laying down a challenge. Well, Arthur's never backed down from a challenge, and he's not about to start now. Not when this is something he wants more than anything else in the world.

He used to think safety was what he wanted, but then he realized there was no such thing. Only with Charles, he does feel safe.

Charles is the first to pull away. He looks deep into Arthur's eyes and then he smiles. "Alright?"

Arthur nods, at a loss for words.

"That what you wanted to talk to me about?" Charles asks. "Because if it wasn't…" He trails off but keeps smiling.

"That's it," Arthur says, and then thinks about advice and following your heart, grabbing what you want while you can. So he leans in and kisses Charles the way he wants to, the way he's wanted to for weeks.

Neither of them comes up for air until the sun is peeking over the horizon.