This is Where you Want to Be (Barlyle)

Chapter Eight

Phineas gripped Phillip's hand tightly as the two danced through the streets, giggling and smiling.
Eventually, though, they slowed to a walk, and Phillip opened his mouth to talk.
"How did you know I'd be at the bar?" He asked, "And why did you even come to find me?"
P.T. cleared his throat. "Well, er... I've observed, over the past months I've known you, that when you need to escape your thoughts, you drown them. Usually with alcohol."
Phillip flushed. "Am I really that predictable?"
P.T. squeezed his hand. "Just be glad you are, Phillip, I don't want to think about what those men might have done if we hadn't found you."
"You were so brave. All of you. And you still wanted to help me, even when I left halfway through your biggest show yet."
Barnum stopped and looked Phillip in the eyes. His honest gaze made Phillip's heart leap into his throat. "Phillip. The circus is a family. We don't abandon our family after one mistake. We couldn't, otherwise I'd be long gone," he smiled. "Now come on, you're nearly home."

When the two got to Phillip's flat, they stopped in the doorway. Phillip pulled P.T. down by the shirt and kissed him gently.
P.T. smiled and looked down.
"Well I guess I should be going," the showman shuffled his feet awkwardly.
"Seriously Phin?" Phillip crossed his arms. "You sweep me off my feet, confess your love, or whatever that was at the bar, and now even though everyone at the circus wants us to be together, you won't step one foot into my flat?" Phillip grinned. "You are such a gentleman, P.T. Barnum."
Phineas smiled apologetically. Philip blushed, rolling his eyes. He grabbed the ringmaster by the collar and lead him inside.
"Are you sure, Phillip?" Barnum asked. Phillip didn't know what he was referring to, but he was pretty sure that the answer was yes, whatever the question was.
He nodded, and as if, he'd flipped a switch, P.T. grinned and pushed him up against the wall. They kissed sloppily, romantically, passionately, and Phillip was sure his lips would be red for days. Eventually Barnum pulled back, a stupidly large grin plastered on his face, an expression mirrored by Phillip.
Now what? Phillip thought. Am I supposed to ask? Hey, Phin, can we try this over there... you know, where I usually sleep? Maybe sideways, preferably with fewer clothes on? He felt his ears heat up at the thought.
But words weren't needed anymore. When Phillip looked into Barnum's eyes, he knew. And he knew that Barnum knew. He let himself be picked up, surprised at how strong the ringmaster was, he let himself be carried, and suddenly they were lying down, horizontal on Phillip's bed. Phineas curved his arms around Phillip's waist, hands meeting in the small of his back. Phillip cupped his hands around P.T.'s face, kissed him tenderly. He leant his head back, letting Phineas pepper his neck with kisses, loving, but forceful and dominant too. P.T.'s lips brushed over Phillip's collar bone and the younger man let out a small gasp; it was as if he'd been electrified. He felt Barnum grin into his neck, and the ringmaster started to tease the patch of skin with his lips and tongue until Phillip groaned. He stopped abruptly and the younger man whined.
"Is it okay if I take your shirt off?" P.T. asked softly.
Phillip nodded, and tugged at Phin's coat and shirt.
"I guess those can go too," Phineas chuckled, pulling off the red coat and unbuttoning his shirt. Phillip caught his breath as he saw the smooth panes of muscle emerge as Phineas took off his shirt. He longed to touch them, to know what it was like to trace the sharp contours of the chiselled body. So he did. He let his hands wander across the broad chest and the toned torso, eventually running his fingers up Phineas's back.
P.T. was unbuttoning Phillip's shirt, pulling at it gently. Phillip helped him take it off and let it drop to the floor. Phineas smiled kindly but hungrily as he gazed upon Phillip's body. He seemed to struggle with himself, and lost, giving in to the animalistic urge inside him. He straddled Phillip's waist, his rear resting on his legs, and the ringmaster bent forwards to press a light kiss to the younger man's lips, before turning his attention to his chest. The ringmaster let his mouth wander around Phillip's breast, his hands tracing light circles on Phillip's torso, making Phillip giggle quietly and wriggle. Phineas grinned and trickled his fingertips across the sensitive skin. Phillip laughed and pulled Phineas down into a kiss.
P.T. bit Phillip's bottom lip softly, asking without words for permission. Phillip smiled into Phineas's mouth, letting the showman deepen the kiss with his tongue. It was hot and wet and messy, but it felt right. Their tongues danced together, and suddenly Phillip felt a soft pressure against his trousers. He blushed as he realised what was happening; P.T. was hard.
As if the atmosphere had changed, Phineas pulled back, looking embarrassed and apologetic. Phillip smiled and shrugged. If you want to. He searched Phineas's eyes for an answer.
The circus king nodded slowly, but there was an unspoken question written on his face. How?
Philip wondered the same thing. He'd done this before, of course, but Phineas hadn't. At least, not with a man. And while Philip was... experienced, he liked to be dominated.
Philip hooked his legs around Phineas's back, his ankles crossing in the middle. He pulled the ringmaster on top of him, burying his face in the muscled neck, breathing in the musky smell of Phineas's cologne that he'd grown to love, letting it wash over him. He took one of Phineas's hands and guided it downwards. The showman seemed to understand, and rubbed Phillip slowly, murmuring reassurance in his ear the whole time. Phillip pressed his head back and moaned, legs quaking at the slight touch. Phineas kissed him slow and soft, before trailing his lips down Phillip's body.
He reached the top of Phillip's trousers, looking up to ask if it was okay to go further.
"P-please, Phin..." he sighed, more breath than sound, his words jarring in the silent dialogue.
Phineas smiled to himself and fiddled with the buttons, eventually hooking his fingers under the waistband and slowly pulling them down.
Phillip gasped at the sensation of friction as P.T.'s hands brushed him. It wasn't much, but it was enough. All while Phineas was constantly reassuring Phillip, he touched him softly, firmly, dominantly, lovingly, and soon airy breathes and moans filled the quiet night.

Sorry for not being 'graphic', but I'm not all that comfortable with writing more, and I wanted to keep it romantic.