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Drunk, horny, and pissed off, Micah pitches his tent on the outskirts of Clemens Point, needing some time to himself. Ignoring the confused stares of various gang members (yes, Micah has never pitched his tent before, but they don’t need to act like it’s a fucking miracle), Micah slips inside and ties the tent flaps shut, his drunkenness making it quite difficult to tie the knots properly. Micah flops onto his back, burping (he drank far too much, but he didn’t realize this until he stood up and nearly fell over) and groaning.
Knowing exactly what he wants to do, Micah waste no time in tugging his pants down to his knees, his half-hard cock springing free. Ever since he argued with Arthur this afternoon (Micah might’ve encouraged Marston’s brat to say rude words to Arthur, who wasn’t happy), getting yelled at by the unfairly handsome Arthur Morgan, Micah has been uncomfortably aroused, his cock needing attention. And now, finally, he has a chance to deal with his problem.
Despite this entire problem being caused by Morgan, Micah has only one person on his mind as he wraps a clammy hand around his cock. Biting his lip, he brings himself to hardness, moaning as he strokes himself. But this isn’t enough. For the first time, he wants something different—something more. He rolls onto his front, sucking on his fingers before probing between his cheeks.
To be truthful, Micah has no idea what he’s doing, and a sober Micah would never do this. But he’s heard tales of men fucking men, and his drunk, horny mind wants nothing more than for Arthur Morgan to stick his cock in him and fuck him until he can’t walk tomorrow. But he isn’t an invert, honest…
Fuck, his father must be turning in his grave.
But when has Micah ever cared about what the old bastard wanted?
Humping his bedroll, his cock chafing uncomfortably (but he doesn’t care enough to stop), Micah works a finger inside himself, grimacing at how goddamn weird it feels. But he doesn’t give up; it’s supposed to feel good, otherwise why would homosexuals like Williamson enjoy fucking each other?
(And, again, Micah Bell is not an invert. Yes, he doesn’t get much enjoyment out of sex with women, whereas simply jerking off to Arthur drives him insane, but he does not like men and nobody can prove otherwise.)
He pulls out and spits onto his hand, shoving his finger in further this time. It still doesn’t feel good, and Micah groans, curling his finger inside himself. And he brushes his fingertip across an extra sensitive spot inside him. Micah flinches, focusing fully on that spot, and soon enough…
“Oh, fuuuuck…” he mumbles, slurring. But he can’t help it, overwhelmed by the pleasure pooling deep inside him. His cock throbs with need and he ruts the bedroll harder, working a second finger inside his hole. “Christ…”
Okay, now he gets it. Whatever this spot is, touching it feels wonderful, arousal building up inside him rather than radiating from his cock. It’s goddamn incredible. But Micah wonders how much better it would feel with a cock inside him.
And so, he lets his drunken mind wander, thinking about the man who drives him insane, who leaves Micah with an erection when he yells at Micah, and whom Micah has jerked off to countless times. The fantasy comes to him easily, and Micah screws his eyes up, imagining what he longs to happen…
Arthur has him on his elbows and knees, slowly easing his huge cock inside Micah. Moaning desperately, his hands gripping the bedroll, Micah gasps, “You’re… so big, Cowpoke.”
And Arthur snorts, reaching around Micah to grab his cock. Pumping Micah’s cock, he begins to thrust, hitting that spot with his cock. “And you’re so needy. I never thought Micah Bell would be such a goddamn whore.”
Any other time, Micah would argue, taking offense at being called a whore. But right now, the dirty talk does something to him, his cock leaking pre-come as Micah rocks his hips back against Arthur, needing more.
“Oh, you like that?” Arthur says. “Are you just a needy little whore? That why you’re so annoyin’? D’you just need a man to shove his cock in you to get your naughty side outta your system?”
Arthur’s voice is a low growl, making Micah’s belly twist. He wants more, for Arthur to call him the filthiest things, to humiliate him and leave him wrecked.
“Maybe…” Micah says, smirking.
Arthur smacks his ass, hard enough to sting. Micah yelps, clenching around him.
“D’you wanna be punished? Is that it? D’you annoy me to make me mad on purpose? ‘Cause I’ll punish you if you want.”
“N-No, not that,” Micah moans. “I just… I need you inside me, Morgan.”
“You do?” Arthur says, fucking him harder.
Micah grunts, toes curling with need. “Fuckin’ hell, yes. You feel… so good…”
He’s pathetic, but he can’t stop. Sex has never felt so good, and Micah wants to be stuffed full of this cock forever.
Perhaps there is a way to stuff him even fuller…
By now, Micah has three fingers inside himself, relentlessly rubbing his prostate. He moans, a little louder than intended, but he doesn’t notice, too lost in his own head.
“Harder, Cowpoke…” he moans out loud, not realizing he did so. Drunk and desperate, Micah’s thoughts spill out of his mouth, but he has no idea, just focused on the imaginary cock slamming into him, and the fantasy man behind him, saying filthy things and jerking him off. “Fuck… don’t you d-dare stop…”
“I’m gettin’ close,” Arthur says, fucking Micah with rough, rapid thrusts of his hips. He leans down, his bare stomach flush against Micah’s back, sweaty skin sticking together. “Where d’you want me to finish?”
Micah thinks for a second, before mumbling, “Inside. Fill me up, Arthur.”
“What’s the magic word, Micah?” Arthur teases, smirking.
And Micah rolls his eyes, but reluctantly mutters, “Fill me up, pleeeeeease…”
“Good boy,” Arthur says, stroking Micah’s thigh with his free hand. “Sure thing, Cowpoke.”
Micah shivers, the name making his belly flip and his aching cock throb. He doesn’t want Arthur to notice, but—
“Aw, does Micah Bell like bein’ called a good boy?”
And with his orgasm so goddamn close, Micah can’t be bothered to lie. “Guess so. If I’m good, can we do this again?”
“Oh, if you’re a good boy for me, I’ll do whatever you want…”
Micah comes hard, biting his lip until he tastes iron. He slumps face-down on his ruined bedroll, tugging his fingers out of his loose, tender hole. Micah pants for breath, unable to process how good that felt.
Did he really just discover he has a praise kink whilst masturbating? For goodness’ sake…
But at least he knows what to think about next time he jerks off.
---
Curious why Micah pitched his tent for once, Arthur saunters across camp. John’s suggestion was that Micah is jerking off in there (Hosea swatted at him for it, whilst Dutch raised his eyebrows and Arthur laughed), but whilst it was only a joke, Arthur can’t get the thought out of his mind. And he isn’t sure why.
When he reaches Micah’s tent, however, he realizes how true John’s words were.
Because he hears Micah goddamn Bell moan. From inside the tent, Micah gasps and moans, far louder than Arthur ever would when jerking off in camp. Then again, Micah was drunk off his ass the last time Arthur saw him, so perhaps the alcohol is to blame for Micah’s apparent lack of volume control.
Shaking his head, Arthur turns to leave, planning to tell John that he was right (and then to tease Micah relentlessly the next time they see each other), when Micah speaks.
“Fill me up, Arthur…” he gasps, his slurred voice laced with lust.
And, to Arthur’s horror, blood rushes south as he realizes that Micah is jerking off to him. The more he listens to Micah’s frantic, needy moans, Arthur finds his cock throbbing, overwhelmed by this reaction. What the hell? Why does he like what he’s hearing?
Arthur isn’t a bigot—he himself likes both men and women—so his disgust comes from the specific person, not his gender. He hates Micah Bell, and yet…
From inside the tent, Arthur hears blankets rustling (Micah must be fidgeting a lot), and Micah cries, “Fill me up, pleeeeeease…”
For whatever reason, Micah’s pathetic noises send uncomfortable bolts of arousal right to his cock.
But as he gets hard whilst listening to Micah moaning, Arthur realizes how creepy this must look, and rushes off before he feels more like a voyeur. He darts into the woods around Clemens Point, hiding behind a tree, and tugs his cock out of his pants.
As he jerks himself off, Arthur’s mind drifts to what he just heard, getting all worked up from remembering Micah’s depraved moans and his desperate plea for Arthur to “fill him up”. Does that mean Micah wanted to be fucked by him?
He hates himself for it, but Arthur closes his eyes and imagines how debauched Micah looked inside his tent. He pictures Micah all flushed and sweaty, his pants around his ankles as he fidgets on the bedroll. If Micah wanted to be ‘filled up’, perhaps he was fingering himself, imagining the fingers were Arthur’s cock, and the mental image of Micah thrusting his fingers into himself, pretending they’re Arthur’s cock, makes Arthur’s stomach twist with arousal.
Before he knows it, Arthur imagines fucking Micah, bending the stupid, irritating bastard over and pounding into him, making Micah groan and beg for more. He’ll come deep inside him, filling Micah just like he wanted, and then he’ll force Micah to apologize for being such an asshole. And then, when he’s been reduced to a sobbing, shivering wreck, Arthur will take pity on the poor bastard and let Micah come…
Biting his lip, Arthur comes harder than he has in months. As he cleans himself up, panting for breath, Arthur slumps back against a tree, not sure how to process what he just did. Somehow, after hearing Micah jerking off to him, Arthur not only got hard from this… but he wanted more, fantasizing about Micah freaking Bell until he came.
Well, it appears that he finds Micah sexually attractive, as weird as that sounds. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, Arthur trails back into camp, not sure what to do about his newfound attraction for Micah Bell.
---
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Arthur asks, smirking. “You don’t look so good.”
“Go fuck yourself,” Micah mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m fine.”
As the pair ride side-by-side towards a homestead they plan to rob, Arthur shoots a glance at Micah. Despite his insistence that nothing is wrong, Micah looks like shit, obviously hungover. He clearly didn’t want to leave camp when Dutch told him and Arthur to go on this job together, but Arthur couldn’t tell if it was because of the hangover, or what Micah did last night. Although Arthur assumes that Micah has jerked off to him before, and that has never deterred Micah from going out robbing, so it must be the hangover. And it’s a bad one too, his eyes bloodshot and his face pale and clammy. He must have drunk a lot of booze last night.
“Sure you are…” Arthur says, snorting. Ever since yesterday’s… incident, Arthur’s chest has fluttered whenever he thinks about Micah, unable to forget what he heard and what he masturbated about afterwards, and Arthur isn’t quite sure what to do about his feelings. But at least he isn’t blushing or acting weirdly, so Micah has no idea what goes on inside Arthur’s head. And just because he has weird feelings for Micah, that won’t stop Arthur teasing him for looking like shit. “I bet you can’t even shoot straight.”
“Oh, shut up, Cowpoke. I ain’t in the mood.”
“Because you’re hungover?”
Micah glares at him, his jaw clenched. “No.”
“Whatever you say…” Changing the subject, Arthur says, “Anyway, I scouted this place the other day. And I suggest we wait till nightfall and sneak inside. Way too many people millin’ around otherwise.”
Arthur glances at Micah, waiting for the bloodthirsty fool to argue and insist they go in guns blazing and murder everyone, nearly getting themselves killed in the process (which seems to be Micah’s main plan for every job he does). But, to his genuine surprise, Micah yawns and mumbles, “Sure, let’s do that.”
“Really?” Arthur says, and then it occurs to him. “Oh, I get it. You ain’t up to a gunfight ‘cause you’re hung—”
“I ain’t hungover!” Micah snaps. “I just… think it might be fun to follow your plan for once.” A smirk twitching on his pale face, he adds, “Then if everythin’ goes wrong, it’ll be your fault.”
Arthur chuckles, genuinely amused by Micah’s words (it’s rare, but the idiot can be funny sometimes). “Well, just as well it ain’t gonna go wrong. Now shut up. We’re nearly there.”
With Micah grumbling behind him, Arthur leads him into a thick patch of woodland about one-hundred-and-fifty feet from the homestead. Hopping down from Benny, he hitches his horse to a tree, watching Micah do the same to Baylock.
“This should be a good place to wait,” he explains. “Close enough we can spy on ‘em, but far enough they won’t see us.” Opening his satchel, Arthur pulls out his journal and says, “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna do some drawin’. Do whatever you want, but don’t piss me off or murder anyone.”
Micah rolls his eyes. “Aw, d’you trust me that little, Morgan? That hurts…” he says, pouting and placing a hand against his chest.
Laughing, Arthur says, “Just sit down and shut up, Bell.”
And Micah scowls, but he slumps at the base of a nearby tree, and begins to clean his guns.
For about an hour, they sit in silence, Micah cleaning his guns and sharpening his knife, before taking a stick and whittling it into a point, whilst Arthur draws in his journal. He finishes a sketch of the horses that he helped Mister Mason photograph the other day, before turning the page. And when Arthur realizes that he wants to draw Micah, he sighs and snaps his journal shut.
He can’t keep dwelling on this any longer. If he just tells Micah about this bullshit, perhaps Arthur can stop thinking about what he heard and the annoying feelings in his belly. Although he doesn’t know how Micah will react… but if nothing else, at least an argument will help kill time until the job tonight.
“What’s your problem?” Micah says, hearing him shut his journal with unnecessary force.
“Nothin’,” Arthur says, putting his journal away. He takes a deep breath, adjusting the brim of his hat. “Look, Micah… I heard you last night.”
Micah flinches, his knife slipping and almost slicing his thumb open. Fear begins to well up within him, but Micah masks it, refusing to admit what Arthur’s words do to him. “Dunno what you’re talkin’ about, Cowpoke,” he says, denying it.
To be honest, Micah doesn’t have the best recollection of what he did last night, but he remembers being horny and pissed off, and getting himself so drunk he could barely stand. And he remembers frantically masturbating the moment he shut himself inside his tent, thinking of Arthur, and…
Oh shit… Did he say anything aloud?
Did he say Arthur’s name?!
Oh, fucking hell…
I’m so dead, Micah thinks.
Arthur stares at Micah, watching him tense up, an awkward frown creasing his forehead. He hasn’t seen this expression since Micah got himself arrested, staring up at Arthur through the bars of Strawberry’s jail…
It’s fear, he thinks.
Indeed, Micah looks terrified, and the sight hurts Arthur in a way he never thought it would. What does Micah think Arthur is about to do?
“I ain’t gonna kill you, just so you know,” Arthur says quickly, needing to explain himself before Micah freaks out and shoots him.
“Oh, how reassurin’,” Micah mutters. “But I still don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
Arthur raises his eyebrows. “You need to work on your lyin’, Micah. But I promise I ain’t mad. I just wanna talk about what I heard.”
“And what was it you heard, Morgan?” Micah says, still denying it, refusing to believe that Arthur might have heard…
“You were in your tent. I wondered what you were doin’ in there, so I went to investigate… and I heard you moanin’.”
Micah puts his knife away, staring at Arthur. He wants to draw his revolvers and shoot Arthur, humiliated that Arthur heard that. But… he can’t bring himself to do it. Micah hates himself for it, but he doesn’t want to kill Arthur; ever since he got this stupid crush on Arthur, Micah hasn’t wanted to hurt him, let alone kill him. When did he get so goddamn soft?
“So you were spyin’ on me? Listenin’ to me jerkin’ off,” Micah says, folding his arms across his chest. “What a goddamn creep.”
“Hey, I didn’t do it on purpose. I was gonna leave immediately, ‘cause, well, it was awkward.” Arthur swallows, getting to his feet. As Micah does the same, standing up and keeping his gazed fixed on Arthur, he adds, “But then I heard you say my name.”
Fuck! Micah thinks, a single swearword running through his head. It’s just as he feared; he accidentally slurred out his thoughts whilst fantasizing, and Arthur heard Micah say his name. Arthur knows Micah was jerking off to him. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…
“But you said you ain’t mad,” Micah says. “Why ain’t you furious and disgusted after hearin’… that?”
Arthur sighs, grateful that Micah doesn’t deny it anymore, but hating how cruelly Micah describes himself (Micah Bell is an asshole, but he shouldn’t hate himself for loving men). His chest tightens with sudden nerves, but now would be the perfect time to tell Micah the other thing he wanted to say. He takes a step closer, smiling awkwardly at Micah, and says, “’Cause hearin’ that made me realize somethin’ important.”
“Important?” Micah frowns, tilting his head in confusion. “What? That you need to murder a fuckin’ invert who—”
“That I’m attracted to you, dumbass,” Arthur says, cutting him off. Heat rises in his cheeks, but he doesn’t back down.
Micah’s eyes widen, his mouth gaping slightly. After several long, awkward seconds, Micah lets out a weak laugh. “Good joke, Cowpoke. This must be sooooo funny for you. You gonna tell everyone back at camp that you heard Micah Bell jerkin’ off to you? Or are you gonna tell Dutch and get me kicked out like you’ve always wanted—”
“Micah, shut up.” There are many things he could say, but one of Micah’s comments stands out to him. “Dutch wouldn’t kick you out for that.”
“And why’s that?” Micah says, still certain that this is all a cruel joke, because why would anyone want to discuss what happened rather than just murdering Micah to get a disgusting degenerate to leave him alone?
“Well, he’d be a massive hypocrite if he did, wouldn’t he?”
“Why?”
Arthur chuckles, fascinated that Micah Bell, a craftily observant man who picks up on everything around him, failed to notice such an important thing about Dutch. “He’s like me.”
Micah frowns, confused. “Huh?”
“We both like women and men, is what I mean. So, he’d never throw you out for likin’ men, you idiot,” Arthur says.
“Is that true, Cowpoke?”
“Yes. Jesus, Micah, just accept that you ain’t gettin’ kicked out for havin’ a thing for me.”
His face flushing, Micah splutters, “Hey, it ain’t just me! You, you just said you like me too.”
“Aha, so you admit you like me!” Arthur says, grinning triumphantly.
Micah’s embarrassed flush spreads down his neck, scowling. “And you just said there ain’t anythin’ wrong with that, so quit teasin’ me, you asshole.”
“Sorry,” Arthur says, but he struggles to smooth the grin from his face. “Look, we got distracted. I was tryin’ to tell you how I feel. D’you wanna know what I did after I heard you?”
Slowly calming down, starting to genuinely believe that Arthur doesn’t plan to kill him, Micah lets out a shaky sigh. He doesn’t want to hang onto Arthur’s every word like some needy little bitch, but his curiosity gets the better of him. “What did you do then, Morgan?” he drawls.
“I got hard, so I ran away to jerk off. I imagined what you looked like in there, what you were doin’ to yourself.” Stepping closer, Arthur continues, “And then I imagined fuckin’ you, bendin’ you over, makin’ you beg me. I’d come inside, fillin’ you up, just like you wanted… And, then, finally, I’d let you come too.”
Micah swallows, his chest tightening. So, Arthur heard that part too, did he? But despite burning with embarrassment over Arthur hearing him begging to be filled with Arthur’s seed like some sort of come-obsessed whore, Micah doesn’t run away. To be honest, he wants to hear more about Arthur’s fantasy, incredibly turned on by the thought of Arthur jerking off to him, imagining the exact same thing as Micah.
“Oh, really?” Micah says, trying to get some control back over this situation. “Sounds like you’re pretty damn obsessed with me, Cowpoke.”
“Oh, shut it,” Arthur says. “I only realized all this yesterday. But now we’re talkin’ about it… how long have you been thinkin’ of me when you, uh, take time for yourself?”
“That’s none of your goddamn business!” Micah snaps.
Arthur raises his eyebrows. “From that reaction… I’m guessin’… months?” And when Micah goes even redder, biting his lip, Arthur laughs and says, “Looks like I was right!”
As Micah glares at him, humiliated, Arthur steps even closer. He has a couple of inches on Micah, the height difference getting more obvious the closer they stand, and Micah hates it. But at the same time… Arthur has never stood this close to him, and Micah’s heart hammers in his chest.
“And after all this time, how’d you feel if I… offered to help you out?” Arthur asks, stepping right into Micah’s personal space, so close he can inhale Micah’s scent of leather and gun oil and sweat.
Micah gulps, wishing it wasn’t so difficult to find his words. “And… how’d you do that?” he says, raising an eyebrow.
And, without speaking, Arthur smirks and drops to his knees before him. Micah’s eyes widen, recognizing this behavior from his encounters with whores, and his cock throbs, because, holy shit, is Arthur about to suck his cock?
“You want this?” Arthur asks, his hands resting on Micah’s waistband. “No pressure if you don’t.”
Fuck, he has Arthur goddamn Morgan in front of him, fully prepared to suck him off. He’s wanted this for so long, but he never expected it to happen. Micah almost nods frantically and begs Arthur to do it, but he must maintain whatever dignity he has left. So, he forces a cocky smirk and says, “If you’re so desperate to help me out, who’m I to say no, sweetheart.”
Arthur rolls his eyes. “Stupid asshole,” he mutters, and he unbuttons Micah’s pants.
Staring down at Arthur, Micah watches Arthur tug down the zipper, reaching inside his pants to grasp his cock. He flinches, Arthur’s calloused hand so warm around his throbbing cock, and Micah bites his lip to suppress a moan.
Arthur pulls his cock out, his eyes studying Micah’s length, and Arthur says, “Cute cock, Micah.”
“C-Cute?!” Micah splutters, humiliated when his cheeks flush. “It ain’t cute! Nothin’ about me is cute, Morgan!”
And Arthur’s tone makes it sound like Micah’s cock is small—and that isn’t true. Sure, he isn’t the biggest, but his cock is perfectly average. Although he wonders if Arthur’s frame of reference is his own cock, and Micah’s stomach flips as he ponders how big Arthur is (and how full he would feel with that cock inside him).
Arthur laughs, smirking up at him. “Aw, did I embarrass you?”
“Shut up!” Micah hisses, turning his head away. But his gaze snaps back to Arthur when the man below him takes the head of Micah’s cock into his mouth. “Shit!” he gasps before he can stop himself, hands clutching the sides of Arthur’s head as arousal pulses through him.
Arthur winks at him, delighted by the reaction he wrung out of Micah. It is hilariously easy to get Micah Bell all flustered, it seems, and he doesn’t want to stop. After being driven mad by Micah for over six months, teasing him works as a wonderful bit of revenge. As Micah grasps his head, Arthur begins to suck on the tip of Micah’s cock, swirling his tongue across his sensitive foreskin.
With a level of skill that rivals an experienced whore’s, Arthur lowers his head, taking Micah’s cock deeper. He licks and sucks almost lazily, staring up at Micah as he bobs his head, letting Micah’s length slip in and out of his mouth. To Arthur’s delight, Micah seems utterly overwhelmed, wheezing for breath and his legs trembling even though Arthur has barely done anything yet. Screwing his eyes up, Micah rocks his hips forwards, fucking into Arthur’s mouth, but Arthur doesn’t gag, easily taking him deeper.
And when his cock hits the back of Arthur’s throat, so hot and wet and goddamn perfect, Micah loses what little control he had left. His hips stuttering, he gasps Arthur’s name—and comes down his throat.
Shocked by how early Micah came (he only had Micah’s cock in his mouth for about a minute), Arthur swallows. When Micah calms down enough to release his head, Arthur pulls away, tucking Micah’s cock into his pants for him.
Unable to catch his breath, Micah wonders if he should punch Arthur or just run away. Arthur will mock him relentlessly for that, and Micah can’t deal with Arthur thinking Micah normally comes too soon. Because he doesn’t—he just doesn’t know what happened. Perhaps his excitement at finally having Arthur’s lips around his cock was what pushed him over the edge. Either way, he wants to die of embarrassment.
“Go on, then,” Micah mutters, refusing to look at him as Arthur stands up. “Laugh.”
“Why would I laugh?” Arthur says. To be honest, he did find Micah’s early orgasm pretty amusing, but he would never laugh at anyone for coming too soon. It happens to him sometimes, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. “I’m flattered.”
“Flattered? Why the hell are you flattered by that?”
“’Cause it’s kind of an honor to know I’m so good with my mouth,” he says, grinning.
His stomach flipping, Micah finally meets Arthur’s gaze. Arthur has a drop of Micah’s seed on his lip, and Micah’s mouth waters. “You really mean that?” Micah asks, distracted by his desire to suck his own come off Arthur’s lips.
“Sure, I do,” Arthur says, his smile gentler than Micah has ever seen (and the sight is so goddamn handsome, and Micah hates himself for his feelings towards Arthur).
And, with relief flowing through him, Micah grins and captures Arthur’s lips in a kiss. He licks his own come off Arthur’s soft bottom lip, kissing him hard. For a moment, Micah wonders if kissing might be too much for Arthur (sucking another man off is one thing, but Arthur might find kissing too romantic or something like that), but then Arthur chuckles against his lips, kissing him back. Arthur wraps his arms around Micah, pulling their bodies against each other, and Arthur grinds his clothed cock against Micah’s hip.
Arthur is the one to break the kiss, grinning at Micah. “You’re a filthy bastard, ain’t you, Bell?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Micah says.
“I had come on my lip, right?”
Micah raises his eyebrows. “Well, yeah…”
“And you wanted to eat it. And you wanted me to fill you up.” Arthur puts his hand on Micah’s chin, smirking at him. “It’s nothin’ to be ashamed of. But you love come, don’t you, Micah?”
Micah hasn’t really thought about it—because he isn’t an invert—but he remembers how much he wanted Arthur to come inside him. And how he often licks his hand clean when he comes after jerking off. And he mumbles, “Maybe I do. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothin’, stupid. So… I guess you wanna swallow when you suck my cock?”
“Why’re you assumin’ I’ll return the favor?” Micah says, raising an eyebrow.
“’Cause you desperately want me to fill you up, don’t you?” Arthur says, and Micah flinches.
Goddamn it, he wants to argue so badly, to pretend he isn’t a needy little whore who wants nothing more than to have Arthur Morgan’s come inside him, but…
“Okay, fine, if you want me to suck your cock so bad!” Micah says, falling to his knees so hard he’ll have bruises tomorrow.
Arthur rolls his eyes; trust Micah to try to pretend that Arthur is the needy one. But he doesn’t speak, letting Micah unbutton his pants and get his cock out.
Without easing himself into it, Micah makes eye contact with Arthur and swallows his cock as far as he can in one rough movement—
And Micah retches hard, his eyes watering, pulling away to choke and rub his neck. He splutters, wondering how Arthur did that without nearly vomiting.
“Careful, dumbass,” Arthur says. “It takes practice. Nobody’s good at it at first. So, take it slow before you throw up.”
Micah raises his eyebrows, wiping his watering eyes with the back of his hand. He feels like such a fucking fool, his embarrassment building, but Micah still doesn’t want to give up. He’ll swallow Arthur Morgan’s come if it’s the last thing he does.
“Who’re you, the world’s cock suckin’ expert?” Micah mutters.
“Compared to you? I might as well be,” Arthur says, smirking.
“Don’t be so meeeeean, Cowpoke…” Micah says, pouting, and he snorts with laughter.
Arthur raises his eyebrows but soon laughs too, shaking his head. “You’re such a fool, d’you know that?”
Still chuckling, Micah doesn’t dignify that with a response, and tries again. He follows Arthur’s advice, slowly his pace as he takes Arthur into his mouth. He doesn’t swallow Arthur’s cock as deeply this time, beginning to bob his head up and down only about half of Arthur’s shaft. His teeth graze Arthur’s length by accident and Arthur hisses.
“Careful,” he says, grimacing.
Micah doesn’t pulls off, winking in response. Minding his teeth, he picks up his pace, trying his best to suck a cock for the first time.
Arthur appreciates Micah’s enthusiasm, but that doesn’t stop the blow job being the worst one Arthur has ever had. Still, he stays patient, remembering his own experience sucking a man off for the first time, and lets Micah attempt his first ever blow job.
Given how poor the blow job is, it takes a fair while for Arthur to get close. Micah doesn’t notice how long it takes, too distracted by how good it feels to have his mouth stuffed with Arthur Morgan’s cock, Arthur’s pre-come smeared across his tongue, and his length hot and heavy in Micah’s mouth.
“Micah…” Arthur groans after what could have been hours for Micah, his voice desperate. “I, I’m gonna come soon. You still wanna swallow?”
Micah raises his eyebrows as if to say of course I do, dumbass! But he doesn’t pull away, pathetically desperate to swallow everything Arthur gives him. So, he moves his head faster, wanting to make Arthur come—to fill him up.
“Micah, fuck—” Arthur growls, his hips stuttering, and he comes.
Micah splutters, surprised by the new sensation of a man coming in his mouth. But he persists, swallowing Arthur’s load and relishing the taste, so goddamn turned on by the feeling of Arthur’s come sliding down his throat, filling his belly. Letting Arthur’s cock slip out of his mouth with a pop, Micah wipes spit out of his facial hair with the back of his hand, stumbling to his feet. He avoids eye contact, and Arthur wonders if he managed to stun Micah Bell to silence.
Looking at Micah like this, all bashful and embarrassed, his eyes watery and his cheeks bright red, Arthur is overwhelmed by how adorable he looks. He never thought he would think of Micah this way, but in this state… Micah has no right to look so goddamn cute.
“Soooo,” Micah says, finally breaking the awkward silence. “Was that any good? For, for a first time one, I mean?”
“Yeah, you did fine,” Arthur says.
Micah raises an eyebrow, turning to look at him. “Only ‘fine’?”
“Yeah, that’s what I said. What, you want me to lie? It wasn’t amazin’, but you did pretty good for a virgin—”
“I ain’t a virgin, you asshole!” Micah snaps.
“I know, I know,” Arthur says, raising his hands defensively (a favorite move of Micah’s when he pisses people off). “I’m just teasin’. But seriously, you did good. With a bit more practice, you’ll probably be amazin’ at suckin’ cock.”
Micah gulps, stunned by Arthur’s words. “Are you sayin’… you want me to do it again?”
“Maybe.” Arthur winks at him. “This was surprisingly fun. Dunno about you, but I ain’t opposed to foolin’ around again.”
His cock throbbing, his stomach twisting, Micah tries to smirk like he isn’t secretly delighted by what Arthur just said. Instead, he says, “Y’know, I might hold you to that, Morgan.”
As Micah tries and fails to hide how giddy he looks (the sight of Micah Bell attempting to hide his excitement is both hilarious and kind of cute), Arthur grabs Micah by the wrist. He sits down, dragging Micah with him. Micah looks confused but complies, sitting down beside Arthur on the forest floor. Snatching his hand back, Micah clenches and unclenches fists against his lap, a nervous habit he usually hides by constantly cleaning his weapons. They sit only a foot apart, and Micah wants to move further away from him, but he can’t bring himself to move. So, he stays there, fighting the urge to kiss Arthur again, when Arthur breaks the silence.
“Y’know, Micah, if you do good on this job, perhaps I’ll take you someplace nice…” he says, smirking at Micah, his voice a low purr.
“Nice?” Micah says, his heart racing.
Arthur wasn’t lying, surprisingly happy to spend more ‘private time’ with Micah. And the thought of doing something more than awkward blow jobs in the woods… it’s rather appealing to him. “How’s a hotel in Saint Denis sound? Just us… a big bed, a bathtub… and nobody to interrupt us.”
Micah gulps, humiliated by his bright red cheeks.
Arthur kisses him, and when he pulls away, he says, “You look cute when you blush, Mister bell.”
Micah grumbles but puts up with it, wanting to be good. Because if he’s good…
“And what’ll you do to me?” he says, smirking.
“Oh, I dunno. Maybe I’ll give you a bath, wash your goddamn hair for once, callin’ you a good boy… And then…” Arthur leans closer, whispering into his ear, making Micah’s breathing hitch.
“And then what?” Micah mumbles, imagining Arthur pinning him to the plush bed, fucking him hard, spilling deep inside him and filling him up just like Micah craves… And Micah’s cock is throbbing again, already half-hard just from imagining sex with Arthur and listen to Arthur’s breathy whispers in his hear, hating himself for reacting like this with Arthur Morgan of all people, but unable to stop. But, he quickly realizes, he doesn’t want to stop. Arthur Morgan has an effect on him like nobody else. And he wants more. So much more.
And as poor Micah shivers and wheezes beside him, falling apart from nothing more than a few words whispered in his ear, Arthur pulls away, grinning like he wasn’t doing that to fluster Micah on purpose. “Well, if you wanna find out… you’ll have to be good for me…”
“You’re an asshole,” Micah mutters, already fully erect without being touched, so goddamn horny. He hasn’t been this pathetic since he was a teenager.
Arthur just laughs, eyes widening when he notices Micah’s… predicament. His smile playful and his tone teasing, Arthur nudges Micah and says, “Aw, are you gettin’ hard again, you little whore?”
“No!” Micah says, but when Arthur touches him through his pants, he feels the outline of Micah’s erection. Micah flinches, a moan escaping him, but despite his embarrassment, he doesn’t push Arthur away.
“Don’t lie to me, Micah…” Arthur says, rubbing Micah through his pants. “You’re desperate for me again. You want some help?”
And it makes him feel so stupid, but Micah can’t help being so needy and pathetic. He would never act like this with anyone else, but he makes Arthur an exception, turning his head and muttering, “Yes.”
Arthur grins, twisting to grab Micah by his gunbelt. “Well, that can be arranged.”
And as Micah yelps, startled, Arthur hauls Micah onto his lap. Understanding what he wants to do, Micah helps him, straddling Arthur’s thighs so they face each other. As Micah stares at him, Arthur winks and unbuttons Micah’s pants, tugging his cock out for the second time in ten minutes. And, wrapping his hand around Micah’s aching, needy cock, Arthur presses their lips together, and pleasures Micah ‘Horny Idiot’ Bell all over again.