Burn (Barlyle) (COMPLETE)

09

It was late. Barnum knew Charity would be wondering where he was, but he couldn't help himself.

He hadn't seen Phillip since Anne's brother had led him away.

Phillip wasn't around the tent after the show closed, leaving the acts to clean up and prepare to leave. Barnum stood in the center, eyes scanning the tent, when Charles came up to him.

"If you're looking for Carlyle, I believe he went out," the short man said.

"Out?" Barnum dropped his head, holding onto the brim of his hat. "Out where?"

"Where else?" Charles asked. "To the bar, I'd imagine."

*

The bar was crowded with men eager to let loose on their nights off, the dawn of the weekend. When Barnum spotted Phillip, the younger man had his head back, shot glass to his lips. The ringmaster hurried over to him.

"Phillip, there you are!"

With a hiccup, Phillip turned to Barnum, eyes bloodshot, reeking of liquor. Barnum took a step back as he eyed the younger man in shock - how much had he already had to drink?

"Oh, so first you avoid me," Phillip hiccuped. He wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, "but now, all of a sudden, I've got a stalker?"

"We need to talk," Barnum murmured. More and more people were starting to point at them - murmuring about the 'circus freaks,' he imagined. "Please, Phillip."

Phillip eyed him for a moment, leaning back in his seat, before bursting out into loud, drunken laughter.

"Now you want to talk?"

"I'll explain everything," Barnum murmured, dropping his eyes. "Just - meet me out back in five?"

Phillip quieted, and stared at him again. Then he waved Barnum away with a familiar flick of his wrist.

"All right, all right," a drunken giggle, "I'll meet ya out back. But you—" he hiccuped again, "you only get five."

Barnum hesitated, then nodded. Better five minutes than nothing. "That's fair," he agreed. He turned to leave, silently praying that the younger man would fulfill his promise.

Once outside, Barnum leaned against the side of the building and took a deep breath. Up above, stars twinkled brightly in the sky, and a cool breeze brushed past. He closed his eyes, lost in his thoughts, until he heard a crash and a familiar giggle.

"Whoops," Phillip giggled, stepping around a (thankfully empty) trashcan. He looked up, waved at Barnum, and rushed toward him.

A few steps away, he tripped.

"Easy now," Barnum gasped, rushing forward by instinct to grab the younger man. Phillip laughed again as he gripped Barnum by the front of his shirt.

Barnum shook his head. "Maybe I shouldn't have come. Are you sure you're in good shape to talk?"

"I'm fiiine," Phillip sang, looking up at him. They locked eyes.

Blue eyes flashed in the darkness. Barnum's breath caught in his throat.

Before the ringmaster could stop him, Phillip reached up on tiptoe, placing a drunken, open-mouthed kiss to Barnum's lips.

Thank you to a fellow Barlyle shipper for the new cover! You know who you are. :)