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What a long day. One house robbery gone horribly wrong had left Charles, Javier, and Arthur chased across half of New Hanover. They'd split up before they got into town, knowing they were much better off finding their own ways back to camp. Charles didn't find much else for the day. He shot an elk and butchered it, trading the skin and meat for enough cash to put in the box and still have a little left over for himself.
Honestly he just really needed a drink.
He's never been one for saloons. A lot of men trying to puff up their chests and prove something to one another. Still, there was a sense of comradery that he could admire. Found in pockets here and there. Long time poker friends, farm hands catching up after a long day. Even the working women seemed to live in a world of their own. Charles didn't mind sitting back and watching the space before him, the different groups of people meandering around each other like a swift flowing current over stones.
The doors swing open and Charles sees a familiar face. Javier walks with purpose into the saloon, only recognizing Charles once he was halfway across the bar room floor.
“If they come looking, cover for me,” he comments as he pauses where Charles sits near the stairs.
“Who's looking?” Charles asks.
“No one good,” Javier replies over his shoulder. With that he makes his way up the stairs and disappears out of sight.
An odd interaction for sure, but Charles isn't that familiar with Javier. They've never talked much, and he's only worked a handful of jobs with him. He's a bit of a mystery. Kind of keeps to himself, as Charles does. He can respect that in a man. He's got some kind of enigma that draws people in, makes them want to know more. Charles has never really acted on the thought. He appreciates his privacy, as he's sure Javier does.
A commotion knocks Charles from his thoughts. There are men at the doors. Mean looking ones. With searching eyes. They split up upon entering, scanning the crowd. Charles is thankful that the bar is pretty busy, and he has time to slip upstairs with the men none the wiser.
He doesn’t see Javier up on the landing, nor does he see him when meandering through the people waiting outside the doors to the private rooms.
“Javier?” Charles calls. The sound doesn’t really carry with all the noise, so he tries again, practically shouting Javier’s name down the hallway.
Suddenly the door next to him flings open and he finds himself grabbed by his shirt and hauled inside. The door gets slammed behind him. Charles gets his bearings and freezes.
If he hadn’t looked at his face, Charles would have never guessed it was Javier. He’s in a dress, bright blue and shining in the lamplight. Long silk gloves reach up past his elbows, covering the hair on his arms with pale white. His hair is down, fingercombed and hanging loose around his shoulders.
“You want the whole place to know I’m here?” Javier hisses. It takes a few seconds for the words to register, distracted as he is. Javier looks incredible.
“Why are you…” Charles trails off. Javier looks down at himself. Did he put on makeup? Or is he blushing? Charles wants to, well he’s not sure. Placate him, reassure him somehow, but he doesn’t get the chance. The door opens suddenly and quickly. Charles thinks fast.
He shoves Javier up against the wall, his hands cupping the sides of Javier’s face and leaning in close. His facial hair should be hidden behind Charles’ hands, and his frame should block most of Javier from whoever is at the door.
“Oh,” he hears a voice behind him. Charles glances quickly down at Javier. His eyes are wide, face flushed, looking overwhelmed. His chest heaves where it presses up against Charles’. Charles snakes one of his hands up through Javier’s hair and directs his head down to his sternum and holds it here. He turns a bit, to face whoever’s approached.
“Do you mind?” Charles asks, glaring out of the corner of his eye. It’s one of the mean-looking men. He feels Javier set his hands on Charles’ waist. The stranger kind of flinches backwards, looking embarrassed.
“Uh- sorry-” he lets out a half-hearted apology before backing out of the door and shutting it behind him. Charles keeps them like this for a moment, until he’s sure that the man won’t return.
Javier squirms out of his grasp, pressing himself up against the wall to get some distance. Charles lets him go, backs up just enough so that Javier can stand normally.
“You alright?” Charles asks.
“Fine,” Javier replies, a little too quickly. “What was that?” Charles furrows his brow.
“Figured you were tryin’ to hide,” Charles explains, confused as to why he has to explain Javier’s own plan to him. “Unless you were getting all dressed up for the fun of it.”
Javier frowns, something lethal glinting in his eyes, like he considers slitting Charles’ throat just for mentioning it.
“I didn’t mean it,” Charles backtracks. He takes in the scene. The dress is loose on Javier’s shoulders. Probably couldn’t lace it up properly, both due to his size and to the fact that it likely requires a second person. It sags on his frame, draping low under his collarbones. The fabric of the gloves strains under Javier’s muscle, obviously meant for someone smaller than him. In the flickering light the fabric shimmers like water. It’s entrancing, seeing him like this.
They’re probably stuck here for a bit, at least until those men decide that Javier’s not in the building anymore. Javier’s got a strange look in his eyes. There's still a bit of a flush on his face. He leans back against the wall, crossing his arms in front of him. Probably trying to hold the dress up. There’s still a little bit of hesitation in his posture, but he looks strangely at home in the garment.
“Blue suits you,” Charles comments. Javier scoffs, but there’s a bit of pride that flourishes when he looks off and away. Charles wants to chase that feeling, fan it until it sparks. “You look good in nice things,” he adds.
“This isn’t nice,” Javier replies, deflecting the compliment as easily as it comes. It’s true, the dress isn’t particularly fine. But Javier has a way of making cheap things look luxurious. Charles still hasn’t moved away, and Javier hasn’t tried to leave. He also doesn’t seem completely dismissive of Charles advances, subtle that they are.
Charles isn’t usually a betting man, but something tells him the odds are on his side. He shifts, bringing himself in a little closer. Javier’s nostrils flare, looking up at him with those intense eyes.
“Bet you’d look just as good out of it,” Charles comments, reaching up to brush the backs of his knuckles against Javier’s forearm. Charles doesn’t push further, just waits for a response.
Javier takes in a deep breath. He doesn’t flinch away, but his posture stiffens.
“What do you mean?” Javier asks. Not a ‘no’ either. Charles can work with that, he’s a patient man.
“Don’t gotta mean anything,” Charles replies. He’s just brushing his hand back and forth across the silk of the glove. He settles his hand on Javier’s bicep, just underneath where the strap of the dress sits. “Just think you look real good right now, and it’d be a shame not to appreciate it.”
“I’m not…” Javier’s conviction dies on his tongue. Charles trails his hand up over Javier’s shoulder, along the junction of his neck, until it settles on Javier’s cheek. Javier watches all the while, mouth slightly parted as if mid-question.
“Not?” Charles supplies. He watches Javier’s thoughts race, his hands clench into fists where they’re crossed. Charles traces his thumb back and forth on Javier’s cheekbone. Charles recognizes desire when he sees it, and it’s written clearly on Javier’s face. His resolve is crumbling like wet sand toppling under its own weight. Charles leans in, slowly, watching Javier all the while. Something blooms in his chest when he sees Javier shut his eyes in anticipation of the kiss.
Normally he’d wait, make Javier close the gap on his own. But he knows he has to ease him into it, not force him to do anything that would break whatever spell has fallen over him. Instead he presses his lips to Javier’s delicately, just the barest brush. He pauses afterwards, waiting for some kind of reply.
Javier’s hands slip around Charles’ waist as he pulls him in for another kiss. Charles’ thrills at the response, opening his mouth and pulling Javier’s lower lip between his own. Javier groans, hands clenching at Charles’ sides. The sound is like music.
Charles’ hands splay down along Javier’s neck, across his chest and over the silk of the dress. He sets his hands on Javier’s waist and presses him up against the wall. Javier makes a wounded noise against Charles’ mouth as his hands roam up along Charles’ back.
The dress slips off of Javier far too quickly. Charles would have like to pick it off of him, slowly and carefully, but it doesn’t seem to play out that way. Javier’s union suit is half on, bunched around his waist and hidden under the skirts. He yanks off the gloves, letting them fall to the floor in an indignant heap. The moment he’s freed from the dress he jumps up into Charles’ arms, fisting his hands in Charles’ hair to yank his head back. It’s like some kind of dam has broken. His tongue thrusts into Charles’ mouth, the bare skin of his back warm under Charles’ hand. He thought he’d treat Javier nice and gentle, but it doesn’t seem like Javier is willing to sit back and let Charles take. That’s fine, he enjoys a challenge.
Charles takes the few steps over to the bed and lays Javier down, quickly crawling over on top of him. Before Javier can get a word out Charles is kissing along his jawline, mouthing at the tender spots of Javier’s neck. Javier curses, legs flexing underneath where Charles is seated. When Charles bites Javier lets out a noise that’s halfway between frustration and relief.
This feels new to Javier, Charles thinks. Another man who’s only learned to take, never receive. How many men has Charles had to teach this to? How many men has Charles seen completely unravel at the barest of gestures?
Charles sucks a bruise at the base of his neck, just below the scar that cuts across Javier’s throat. Javier scrapes at Charles’ back with his nails, and Charles has to stop to pull his shirt off just so Javier doesn’t tear the fabric. Javier’s all teeth and claws, biting and scratching in response to the gentle steady affection from Charles.
All of the Van Der Linde men are dangerous, there’s no doubt about it. But Javier has this barely-leashed lethality to him, like a rattler waiting to strike. He’s tailored his appearance like a warning, a reflection of the finely crafted weapon he’s made of himself. A confusing combination of romance and violence, like something feral masquerading as sophistication. A true wolf in sheep’s clothing.
But even wild animals yearn for affection, in their own strange ways. Javier’s hips roll beneath him, despite being held down by Charles’ body. Charles has his hands gripped at the sides of Javier’s chest as he laps across one of his nipples. He’s been making slow progress down Javier’s chest, and the result is a trail of purple bruises meandering their way across his flesh. Javier’s stayed relatively quiet, save for the small moans and gasps Charles gets when he catches Javier off guard.
“Don’t gotta be quiet,” Charles reminds him as he smoothes his hands along Javier’s hips. “You got a nice voice.”
“Fuck off,” Javier snaps. Overly defensive, embarrassed, probably. Used to having to fight for what he wants, like they all do. Not used to having anything offered to them without strings attached. Charles doesn’t reply to Javier’s remark, just sneaks back up to his mouth and kisses him slow and soft. Javier’s complaints get swallowed up, and he seems to have no problem in moaning when the sound never gets past his lips.
Charles bets that if he had the time he could get Javier to sing, to beg. It would sound so beautiful, to watch him unravel under Charles’ touch. Another time, perhaps. If he’s so lucky. Today he’s happy enough to touch and be touched.
Javier’s union suit is open enough that it takes no effort for Charles to slip his hand underneath the fabric and wrap his hand around Javier’s cock. Javier groans through clenched teeth, his hips stuttering between where they’re caged by Charles’ thighs. He's hard and warm to the touch, skin soft under Charles' palm.
Charles sits back on Javier's thighs, ready to watch the man fall apart below him. He doesn't expect him to shift with him, until they're both sitting up, Charles perched on Javier's lap. Something has shifted, awakened in the smaller man. Maybe he just needed to be riled up enough, and he certainly is now with how much he's leaking into Charles’ hand. It's a surprise, and a welcome one. Javier palms Charles through his pants, practically moans when he gets his hand around Charles' clothed cock. His teeth go for Charles' jugular like some kind of beast waiting to strike. The motion is sharp and deadly, but with pain comes pleasure, and Charles feels himself throb as Javier sucks a bruise into the spot. His hips are rolling into Charles' grip, like he's decided to use him as he pleases. It's like a flower in bloom, getting to see Javier’s walls come down, nothing but desire left behind.
Javier’s hands spread across Charles' chest, and when he finds his nipples he twists harsh and sudden. Charles chokes on a sound as the feeling washes over and he can hear Javier chuckle at his reaction.
“That how you like it?” Javier asks, as if he hadn't just wrung those noises from Charles' mouth. The look in his eyes spells trouble, and Charles thrills at the idea of what he's unleashed. He wraps a hand around the small of Javier’s back as he shifts forwards, closing the space between them. He starts stroking him tight and quick, revels in the way Javier's brows knit together, that haughty expression morphing into overwhelming pleasure.
Javier's movements are sloppy as he grabs his way to Charles' pants, undoing the buttons as fast as he can to pull him out. Charles slows his pace just enough for Javier to catch up, and once he’s there Charles wraps his hand around both of them. Javier's hips thrust, the motion stunted while pinned under Charles.
“I was right,” Charles leans in, pressing his forehead up against Javier’s. “You look really good like this.”
Javier’s mouth hangs open, his hair sticking to his face with the sweat. Those dark eyes locked on Charles’ own. He’s got one of his hands on top of the one Charles is using to jack them off, following the motions like he wants to memorize the rhythm. His whole body quakes and shudders. He takes a hand and scrapes down Charles’ chest, the lines left burning like fire on Charles’ sweat-soaked skin.
Javier’s face screws up and he comes like a shot to the gut. Charles keeps up the pace, the motions aided by the wetness soaking down into his grip. Javier is shaking from head to toe, little soft sounds squeezed out of his throat. He drops the hand on top of Charles’, now using it to try to release that hold on both of them. But Charles ignores it, intent to bring his own completion holding Javier’s softening cock against his own. The noises Javier’s making grow insistent, apparently having lost the ability to speak with his climax. Charles isn’t far behind, however, and it only takes a few more moments watching Javier’s wounded expression, blissed out beyond recognition, for him to seize and come. Its thick and messy, splattering up against Javier’s chest. Charles curses under his breath as he stills, watching his release drip down Javier’s skin as his heartbeat returns to normal.
Javier’s laughter startles Charles so much that he jumps at the noise. Javier flops backwards onto the bed, his chest shuddering as he practically giggles.
“Something funny?” Charles asks, thumbing at Javier’s hipbone.
“Didn’t think you the type,” Javier replies, his arms raised up by his head. Charles raises his eyebrows. It would be something for Javier to throw out accusations, considering what had just happened. But it wouldn’t be the first time for a man to shy away from the actions he had just partaken in.
“Didn’t think me the type either,” Javier adds, before Charles can respond. He’s got this lazy grin on his face that Charles can’t help but imitate.
“What type is that?” Charles asks. Javier looks him up and down slowly before settling his gaze back on Charles’ face.
“Interested,” Javier supplies. Charles huffs out a laugh.
“Yeah,” Charles agrees. “You could say that.”