Chapter Text
Arthur fidgeted on the bed, his hands playing with the sheets in a fruitless attempt to hide his nervousness. The cold air made him shiver and goosebumps spread over his naked body. He had long lost track of time as he lay on the bed starring at the ceiling, at the bedspreads, out of the window. Anywhere than at the man watching him. He tried to ignore the camera that had been set up in the middle of the luxurious hotel room, tried to ignore how he could feel his member fill with blood at the thought of being watched, being photographed in his natural state.
"Your doing great, Arthur, your a real nature talent. Raise your arm above your head for me?" Albert asked, not taking his eyes from the camera in front of his face.
When he had approached Arthur with this odd request the outlaw's first reaction was to laugh. He thought Albert was joking. The confused look that followed made it clear that Albert wasn't joking. He blushed heavily and stammered. "I- Lord I'm sorry I know I shouldn't have asked. Ha, of course I was just joking I'm a nature photographer after all, why would I take pictures of you in the nude? That's… that's ridiculous, right?" Arthur wasn't a man of many words, he placed his hands on his shiny golden belt buckle, crooked his head slightly, so that a single strand of brown hair fell out of it's place and into his face and grunted a "why the hell not." out.
Even if he tried, he couldn't deny Albert anything. He had a soft spot for the photographer. The urge to protect him from any harm was strong and he found himself looking in some odd places for hints of his unlucky friend. After their last encounter on the cliff near Valentine he had expected that Albert would go back to New York, he was surprised to meet him again a couple of weeks later in Saint Denis, while he was helping another artist, a frenchman called Charles Châtenay. The painter had invited him to his gallery exhibition. Upon entering, the first thing he noticed was the room full of Albert's pictures. There was even a picture of Arthur, dressed in his worn down blue shirt, his father's hat and boots that were covered in mud, he made quite the picture. He hadn't expected to find Albert in the next room, standing next to Charles with a glass of champagne in his hand. He looked quite uncomfortable as he took a sip, nodding at whatever Charles was saying. When Arthur got closer he could hear some chunks.
"- but my friend, I can tell you, the vagina, that is is the only true thing." Albert eyes widened. He almost choked on his drink. "I- I'm not… how do you say this… well, I don't-"
"Ah!" He was interrupted by Charles who had spotted Arthur in the crowd and was waving him over to chat. Before he had the chance to talk to Albert, the crowd had started to grow more and more aggressive which ended in a huge fight. Arthur had managed to break it off and walked out of the gallery, still chuckling to himself. Albert stopped him on the street, greeted him with a huge smile on his face and proposed his newest idea. A nude photograph of Arthur.
So now here he was, lying on some expensive sheets in a hotel bedroom in Saint Denis, his clothes discarded and Albert in front of him. The photographer had a small blush on his cheeks and nose and his hands shook slightly as he took another photo. "Now, for the next photograph, could you do me a huge favor and place your arm on your stomach, just above your- your… you know-" He stammered.
"My penis?" Arthur chuckled, some of the nervousness faded. Albert was a true gentleman, hell, he had turned away when Arthur had started to undress himself, and he was stammering like a young maiden. Arthur complied with a small smile, for the first time his eyes looked over towards the camera. If only for a second. There was a bright flash of the camera and another sound, Albert made a choking noise. "Jesus, your alright, Mason?" He retreated the hand again, some of the nervousness returned. He knew how his body looked, bruised and battered with old scars on his chest, he was far from being an attractive man and had only agreed to do this because he couldn't say no to Albert. But there was another reason, a small voice inside of him said, a part of him was jealous.
What if Albert had gone and asked someone else? Perhaps a nice young woman from Saint Denis? With a pretty face and full breast. What if he'd still invite her over after he was done with Arthur?
The outlaw frowned deeply and raised his head off the pillow. "Alright, I think we're done here." Albert said, his expression was mirroring Arthur's. "I- I'm sorry, Mister Morgan if I made you uncomfortable."
Arthur raised his hands and tried to play it off. "No I wasn't-"
"I can see it on your face. I- I might not be the smartest photographer out there, or the luckiest, but I sure know it when someone is feeling uncomfortable." He grabbed a towel from the coffee table and handed it to Arthur. "Please." The outlaw took it with a nod and small smile on his lips. "I will send you a copy of these when they're done." He fumbled with the camera, hands still shaking.
"So…" Arthur started, curiousity taking the best of him. "Are you planning on inviting anyone else to take more pictures? A nice young woman perhaps?" Albert stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widening. "No!" He said in a scandaloused tone. "Mister Morgan I could never- don't get me wrong, I'm sure there are lots of pretty woman in the city but I'm… I'm just not- not the type of guy-" Arthur nodded. "Yeah, your not a ladies man, I understand-"
"No." Albert's tone was sharper than usual. "Mister Morgan, A-Arthur, you just don't understand. I'm not interested in taking pictures of woman, I'm not interested in any woman at all." That surprised Arthur. "And now you'll probably think of me as some sick pervert because I invited you to take nude photos in a fancy hotel." He burried his face in his hands and howled. "I'm a fool, Arthur. A bloody fool. I should just leave." He grabbed his equipment and stormed out of the room, Arthur hot on his heels.
He reached him by the grand staircase. "Albert please! God damnit don't make me run after you in nothing more than a towel!" He managed to get a hold of Albert's shoulder. The photographer flinched. "Please, come back to the room and talk to me."
"I- I'm not sure-"
"But I am." He led the way, luckily nobody saw them on the short walk back, they made quite the sight with Arthur practically naked except for the towel around his waist. When the entered the room, he instantly went for his clothes on the ground and dressed into his trousers, hanging the shirt loosely over his shoulders. "Now we can talk." He said, lighting a cigarette for himself. He offered one to Albert but the other man shook his head.
"I don't smoke." He simply said. Arthur shrugged. "Fine by me."
He got comfortable on the bed again, smoke clouds wavered through the room, the scent of tobacco was thick. Albert swallowed visibly.
"I'm sorry."
He said after some time. Arthur frowned and put the cigarette out. "For what?"
"I shouldn't have asked to take those pictures of you." He scratched his beard and for a split second Arthur wondered how it would feel underneath his fingers.
"I was just- I was so… inspired by Mister Châtenay's works and I thought you'd be the perfect model." The outlaw huffed at that. "Me? Oh no, Mister Mason, I'm really not-"
"Are you kidding me? You look gorgeous." Albert blurted out before he quickly slapped a hand against his mouth to stop himself from talking. "Me?" He laughed. "Thanks for the kind words but I know how I look."
Albert couldn't stand still any longer, he crossed the small distance between them and grabbed Arthur by the front of his shirt. "Mister Morgan, I forbid you to think so little of yourself. You, my friend, are the most handsome man I know and I- I…" He licked his lips and looked towards the ground. "I might have f-fallen in love with y-you." He stammered, hands immediately letting go off Arthur's shirt, that slipped off his shoulders and fell onto the bed. Arthur could feel his stomach drop.
"Albert.", He breathed in surprise. The photographer took a step back. A fat tear rolled down his cheek, soon followed by a second and third one. "I'm sorry, Arthur. I'm a mess I know." He rubbed the tears away with much more force than necessary.
"Albert. Stop the damned talking and come over here." Arthur used a gentle tone, as if he was trying to calm a horse that had been spooked. At first the photographer did not move, he just sniffled and rubbed at his stained cheeks. Only when Arthur patted the bedspread next to him did the dark haired man move.
He sat down as far from Arthur as possible and did not look at him.
"You know… I never said the feeling wasn't mutual." Arthur started slowly. "I… was enjoying our encounters in the wilderness very much and, god I'm not good with words, I looked in some odd places for you because I can't stop thinking about you." The photographer tensed on the bed and his sniffling stopped.
"What are we going to do?" Arthur's hand found Albert's, he laced their fingers together, his thumb stroking circles into Albert's soft skin. "I don't know." They had no choice, Arthur had to go back to his gang eventually, Albert had a whole life waiting for him back in New York, but just for tonight, Arthur decided, he'd allow himself to pretend things were different. No Pinkertons, no O'Driscolls, no Dutch. Just the two of them. Albert and Arthur.
He used his free hand to lift Albert's chin. "Maybe we can forget about everything for tonight and enjoy ourselves." Albert nodded hastily.
Their mouths clashed hungrily against each other. Albert made a tiny mewling sound that went straight to Arthur's lower regions. He nipped at the photographers soft lips, glided his tongue over the soft skin before he licked his way inside. The other man tasted of champagne and mint and himself. It made Arthur hungry for more. He smiled and pulled away slightly, to look into Albert's passion hooded eyes.
"I love you too, Albert Mason. And now get out of these clothes and onto the bed."