#this might've been fuelled by my thirst for charles's... everything tbh

[kbstories]

Finally got around to writing my part of the gift exchange with @nateobite who wished for some bottom!Charles :3c

Just For The Moment

Tags: PWP, Outdoor Sex, Barebacking, Rimming, Dirty Talk, Body Worship... I think that’s it

Spoiler warning for Chapter 4.

>>Read on AO3!

Arthur is down to his jeans when Charles pipes up from where he's watching him undress a few feet up the peer, mouth pulled into a skeptical frown.

“And you're sure he won't mind?”

With a clink of spurs, Arthur's boots are thrown on the growing pile of clothes by the lakeside. “Who, Hamish? Nah. Real relaxed, him. You'll be just fine.” Arthur pauses, jeans unbuttoned and hanging low on his hips.

“Was his idea, now that I think back on it. 's been tryin' to meet 'that feller of mine' for a while now, heh.”

Closer than expected, Charles asks, “What did you tell him?”, his hands ghosting over the line of hair down Arthur's stomach to settle on his waist. Arthur leans into Charles's bulk behind him, hums a happy note at the kiss Charles gives his freckled shoulders.

“Nothin'. Figured it out a few huntin' trips in, clever fox he is. 'Cut the crap, son', he said– Remember Hosea's no-bullshit-voice? Exactly like that.”

“Sounds like I should be worried, then. Hosea had me shaking in my boots when he gave me the talk.”

Arthur snorts, twisting his neck to catch the look in Charles's eyes, watching his lips twitch like he's trying not to smile. “The talk? Oh, he didn't–“

“Oh he did. 'Break his heart, I'll break your face', the whole thing. I believed him on the spot.” Charles shakes his head with a fond sigh. “Was a good man, Hosea.”

“The very best.”

Arthur takes a slow breath, taking comfort in the mountain air that tastes of morning dew and pines – the familiar weight of Hosea's loss curls in his chest, a little less heavy every day. “In any case”, he says, patting the back of Charles's hand in a wordless gesture to let go.

“You got a week to think of an escape plan. So, Mr. Smith, ya fancy a swim with me or do I gotta go all by my lonesome?”

Charles nudges him towards the water's edge, then, finally allowing his smile to show; it's Arthur's favorite, the one that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle and his eyes glint.

“Go ahead. I'll join you in a bit.”

*

It's been years, a decade, maybe, since Arthur went skinny-dipping just for the hell of it.

The lake's clear depths are pleasantly warm, for the most part, only its very center retaining some of the perpetual chill clinging to these parts. Arthur floats aimlessly on his back, feeling a sense of peace settling into his very bones as he stares up and into the expanse of the cloudless sky. One by one, each of his worries give way to endless blue.

He feels rather than hears Charles approach, the water shifting around his swift strokes. “This is what you call swimming?”, he teases somewhere from his right, voice light, and soon after warm fingers wrap around Arthur's and tug, once.

“C'mon, cowboy.”

The midday sun comes and goes above them, and Arthur's limbs are heavy with fatigue by the time he follows Charles onto the peer. It's no longer empty but covered by an array of blankets and some pillows he must've found inside somewhere.

Arthur asks, “What's this?”, glancing unabashedly at the shifting muscles of Charles's back and ass as he makes himself at home in the makeshift nest. Charles meets his eyes and smiles, stretching languidly to let him watch his fill, utterly comfortable in his own skin.

“You said nobody comes by these parts so...” The sentence is finished with a shrug. “Been a while since we got to relax.”

“Almost forgot what it's like”, Arthur agrees and crawls into place beside him. Charles's gaze is on him, roaming over his naked body in a way that makes a warm feeling spread in his chest, down to his very core.

Months ago, it would've mostly made him anxious; now, Arthur just raises an eyebrow – Like what you see? – and Charles hums, propping himself up on his elbows to give him a kiss.

Up here, there's nothing much to do. Hamish had merely asked for them to look after his lakeside cabin while he's taking care of some things in the city, and given how oppressive things have been at camp, Arthur jumped at the chance to get away for a while.

Charles, too, looks like he sorely needed the break: lounging on his belly with his eyes closed, his face loses some of its usual seriousness, a quiet sigh leaving the corners of his mouth slightly curved upwards. Arthur can't resist playing with his hair, for once out of that tight braid and flowing in loose strands over his back, and he follows one of them all the way up to his shaved sides. “I really like this”, he tells him, palms gliding over velvety smoothness and coming away wet.

Charles blinks, looking at him through half-closed lids, mumbles, “Yeah?”, like he wants to say more but can't be bothered to search for words.

“Mhm. It suits ya.”

The sun is hiding behind the surrounding trees, shining golden patterns on Charles's skin that Arthur traces with his fingers. He comes across a few scars, some faded, some not, and gently kisses away the drops of water clinging to them. Charles rumbles wordlessly, nods at the question of “May I?” Arthur breathes against his spine, shifts to his side to allow Arthur's hands to roam over his chest, too.

He's warm under his touch, the soft give of his stomach and muscular pecs something Arthur could lose himself in for hours. Arthur felt a little faint the first time he saw him chop enough wood to keep the fires going for hours, slinging the filled bundle over his shoulder like it weighed nothing at all – but it's his inner strength, this sense of perseverance and pride in everything he does that drew Arthur in the most.

And he's all his, now. Arthur scatters kisses over Charles's shoulders, the back of his neck, lingers over the spot under his ear that makes his toes curl without fail and hums as Charles shivers under his lips. Arthur whispers, “Turn around for me, sugar”, and it's humbling, in a way, that Charles does without hesitation, legs falling open in invitation.

Arousal hits Arthur like a punch to the gut, taking away his breath. “I'm a lucky, lucky man”, he rasps; Charles merely smirks and pulls him close.

Settling between his powerful thighs, Arthur leans into a kiss that is one part heat and two parts comfort, sneaking a glance at Charles's expression and how all tension melts away under the attention. Charles kisses like he doesn't expect to get another chance, a little too intense, and Arthur lets him take whatever he needs, moaning into the urgent slide of Charles's tongue against his.

“Got all week”, Arthur reminds him, voice reduced to a husky whisper as he nips at the stubble on Charles's chin and down his neck. “Been meanin' to take my time with ya, just like this.”

“Guess that makes me the lucky one”, Charles says with a chuckle; it gets lost in a groan when Arthur licks over his nipple, worrying it until it's stiff and sensitive under his lips and Charles's hips move, grinding against him.

“Arthur...”

Putting his weight into it, Arthur pins him down, grinning as Charles's cock twitches against his. “Patience, love.” He runs his hands down his sides, presses a placating kiss to his sternum. “I'll make it worth your while.”

Arthur doesn't tease him too long, however, chasing after the soft noises Charles makes when he works his way down the trail of hair to where he's hard and wanting. Despite his lack of experience he knows Charles, knows he likes it when he takes the time to kiss and lick at his shaft before putting the crown in his mouth.

To try and fit everything inside is futile – Arthur takes enough to feel the weight of his cock on his tongue, until Charles falls back into the pillows and moans, arching into it. “Feels so good”, he praises, breathless in a way that makes Arthur's spine tingle, his own cock hanging heavy between his legs.

It doesn't take long before Charles buries one hand in Arthur's hair, the other clenching in the fabric of the blanket. He chokes out a warning but Arthur keeps him in place, groaning as he tastes the first spurt of Charles's orgasm and swallows until he has nothing left to give.

Charles slumps under his hands, laughing quietly at the kisses Arthur presses to his thighs. “Not done yet, hm? Give me a minute, my brain's not working.”

Arthur grins up at him, giving his softening cock one last peck before busying himself elsewhere, exploring the gentle slopes and valleys of Charles's abdomen and the sweat gathering there. “Gorgeous”, he mutters, tasting salt on his lips.

“Dunno how I deserve you, Charles.”

“You do”, Charles replies simply, running his fingers through Arthur's hair. “C'mere, let me kiss you.”

Crawling up, Arthur practically falls into his arms, ignoring the need thrumming in his veins as Charles draws him into a slow kiss. Home has always been a difficult thing for Arthur to define but in Charles's arms, with their lips coming together again and again, he might've found it: the place he wants to return to, always.

Here, Arthur doesn't have to think twice before he moans, “Charles”, voice full of want, and Charles hums against his lips and nods, gaze intense as he says, “Want you inside, Arthur.”

It takes a bit for both of them to get comfortable, Charles on his stomach and Arthur kneeling between his thighs, fingers slicked with some leftover Ginseng oil he found after some digging in his satchel. Rubbing a hand up and down Charles's lower back, Arthur asks, “You sure?”, chuckling as his partner merely huffs and spreads his legs a little wider.

If Arthur's patience was frayed before, it's all the more so when he pushes two inside and hears Charles's breathing hitch, exhales coming in muffled mmhs as he stretches him out. Arthur tugs at himself once or twice, cock blushed red and wet at the tip, biting his bottom lip until it stings – only after Charles gets his knees under himself to push into his hand does he pull out, kissing away the protesting whine he makes.

“Not yet”, he tells him breathlessly, matching Charles's groan with one of his own at the first, long thrust that has him seeing stars. “Fuck, Charles, so good.”

Arthur opens him up bit by bit, driving in deeper every time until his pelvis presses against Charles's ass and his length is buried in tight heat. Panting, he slows down to take in the view: Charles, on his knees and elbows, hair tossed over one shoulder and leaving his lovely back bared, muscles shining with sweat and working every time Arthur as much as shifts inside him.

Arthur whispers, “C'mere, baby”, cupping Charles's jaw to direct him into a kiss, open-mouthed and sloppy. “Takin' me so well. How're ya feelin'?”

Charles answers huskily, “Good. Full.” He nips at Arthur's lips, moaning at the hard thrust Arthur gives him. “Fuck, keep going, please–”

“I gotcha”, Arthur promises. Blindly, he grabs for a pillow to shove under Charles's hips before he flattens him against it, taking him with forceful strokes that have Charles quickly dissolving into panted moans, ah ah ah, lost to the solitude of the lake around them.

Arthur's vision goes hazy, eyes half-lidded, struggling to focus on anything other than how slick and loose Charles is for him, how every time he clenches around him, Arthur is nudged closer and closer to finishing. “Gonna come”, he slurs against his shoulder, holding himself up with one hand and clinging to Charles's hip with the other, pulling him into each move.

Charles nods, too far gone for words, opens his mouth in a silent moan when Arthur shoves himself inside and pulses, filling him up in four, five thrusts. Ears ringing, he leans against Charles and gasps for breath, caressing his heaving sides until his cock goes soft and threatens to slip out.

“Stay like that”, he mumbles into Charles's ear, scraping together the last of his concentration as he presses heated kisses down the arch of his spine. His entrance is pliant under Arthur's thumb, wet with his spend. Charles curses weakly, “Oh fuck”, voice a hoarse mess – he pushes into the curious brush of his tongue regardless, opening up for him once more.

Holding his thighs open, Arthur feels them tremble under his palms; he licks his way inside, working his mouth until his jaw aches. With how utterly sensitive he is, Arthur knows for a fact that his beard must be rough on him, rubbing against the most intimate places yet Charles sounds like he's on the edge already, panted breaths coming hard and fast.

“Touch me, please, ah–”

Arthur does, squeezing Charles's heavy cock and it throbs, dripping between his fingers. Charles comes hard, going rigid around the tongue buried deep in his ass before he collapses, sprawling bonelessly in the blankets with a whine of Arthur's name.

Short of breath, Arthur wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before he answers, “'m here”, patting the closest part of Charles he can reach – his calf, as it turns out.

“You okay?”

“No”, Charles groans, then: “Yes. You broke me. I don't think I can walk right now.”

Chuckling, Arthur shuffles closer and under his arm, finally letting himself relax. Yawning, he says, “Ain't gotta be anywhere, remember?”

“Mhm.”

Despite being clearly worn out, Charles pulls him closer.

“Hey, Arthur?”

“Hm...?”

Arthur glances up, surprised by how serious his expression is. Charles cups his jaw, brushing his thumb over his cheekbone.

“You're the most deserving man I know. Never forget that.”

And despite everything it's this that touches Arthur the most, that in those searching eyes looking so deeply into his, Arthur finds only pride. He smiles and kisses the tip of his thumb, a wordless thank you.

It's all he needs to believe it, too.

>>Read on AO3!