Problem's Turn Fics

“Us. Or. The Americans I guess. Not really us anymore sin-”

“It’s still us. You fought as hard as you could for them for as long as you could. And you always sided with them,” Caleb said, taking a drink from the bottle. He could admit to himself that the news wasn’t welcome. If the war was over it was possible that Ben might want to try to go back since military movements would drop significantly and the chances of him being recognized would be low. But Ben was already having his issues so he didn’t need Caleb’s.

“I just…”

“You wish you’d been there. I know. Big hero Benjamin “Tallboy” Tallmadge wanted to be there to save the day,” Caleb said with a shrug.

Ben wrinkled his nose. “When you say it light that I sound like an asshole.”

“You are an asshole.”

Ben laughed and pushed him.

“See?”

“What about you? Don’t you wish you’d been there?”

Caleb just shook his head. It seemed so obvious to him that he'd never cared about that stupid war, he'd only cared about the people he loved who'd been swept up in it. “Wasn’t what I was after.” 

**

"What about you? Don't you wish you'd been there?" Ben asked. Caleb had never been one to call himself a hero, but he certainly had his heroic moments and he'd cared about the people they'd served with. 

Caleb smiled at him like he was a little silly. "Wasn't what I was after." Something in his eyes made Ben’s breath catch in his throat. That happened sometimes. Caleb would look at him like Ben was supposed to know something and it’d send Ben’s heart racing and his mind spinning trying to figure out what it was.

“What were you after, then?”

Caleb smirked at him and for the span of a heartbeat, Ben understood. It was him. Caleb had been there for him. Ben started to lean in, the years of wanting seeming worth it all of a sudden but something behind him must have caught Caleb’s eye because he looked away from Ben and jerked back, smiling and his hand extended.

“There you are, Cabbagehead,” Caleb said to the squirrel that ran up his arm.

Ben rolled his eyes. “He’s going to start to think his name is Cabbagehead if you’re not careful.”

“His name is Cabbagehead.”

“His name is Abe.”

 “That’s what I said!”

Ben laughed and rolled his eyes. The moment had passed and so had his opportunity, but he didn’t miss it. It felt like he still had time.

Still, he didn’t let it slip his mind. He thought about it constantly, when best to let Caleb know where Ben stood, just how much Ben needed him. He was confident that the feelings were returned but he worried anyway. Caleb was special to him and he wanted Caleb to know it when he finally made his move.

They’d finished dinner and the late summer sun was quickly setting. Ben was washing the dishes because it was his turn but Caleb was on the porch mending one of their shirts. Probably Ben’s since he’d torn the shoulder of his favorite shirt against a branch a few days before. Ben dried the last plate and took the towel outside to hang over the porch railing to dry.

They’d added the railing last summer and Ben thought it made their home more complete, more theirs. He wondered if Caleb ever thought about the initials they’d carved into the first piece of the framework they’d put up all those years ago. Caleb had insisted on it; said that they needed to make it theirs because it had to be, there wasn’t anywhere else to go. Ben hadn’t wanted to, thought it was a waste of time, but when they’d finished and he stood back to see the CB next to the BT he couldn’t help but be pleased with it. It was covered with the paneling now, but Ben still ran his fingers over it whenever he passed that spot.

He thought of it now, as he looked down at Caleb sitting on the step of the porch, mending Ben’s shirt, and the golden light of the setting sun catching in his hair, making him seem otherworldly, like something precious. “I love you,” Ben said suddenly, the words out of him before he’d decided to say them.

“I love you too, but if you didn’t finish the dishes I’ll kill you all the same,” Caleb said without looking up from his work.

Ben laughed and shook his head, sitting down next to Caleb, leaving a few inches of space just in case. He didn’t think he was wrong but maybe Caleb wasn’t ready yet. He looked out into the woods. “No. I mean I’m in love with you.”

“Ow! Fuck!”

Ben snapped to look at Caleb who was frowning at his thumb and the little spot of blood there. “You didn’t have to stab yourself about it.”

“Shut the fuck up. I was surprised. Who would have seen that coming?”

Ben went cold. “Oh. I’m sorry,” he started to get up but Caleb pulled him back down.

“Don’t be a fuckin’ idiot. I just thought if anything happened it’d be because I got drunk at Christmas and stuck my hand down your trousers and you’d break my nose first. Or after.” Caleb shrugged.

“That’s oddly specific.”

Caleb laughed. “We got real close last Christmas.”

Ben smiled, warm and content. He wanted to fall into Caleb, to finally have their moment. “I wish you had.”

Caleb shook his head but he was smiling. “Me too.”

Ben wasn’t sure who leaned in first, but all of a sudden they were kissing and it was warm and soft and everything Ben ever wanted. He took Caleb’s hat off and set it aside, running his fingers through Caleb’s hair and holding him close so that even when they broke apart to catch their breath they stayed close, their foreheads resting against each other.

“Ben,” Caleb whispered.

“Yes?”

“I love you too. In case that wasn’t clear.”

“He took an oath,” Abe said.

“So did you.”

“I’m not a reverend.”

Caleb just kept shaking his head.

“That wasn’t all,” Anna said, earning her a sharp look from Abe. “He also…he disowned Ben and Sam.”

For half a moment Caleb believed it and his throat closed up. But it wasn’t possible, it just wasn’t. “You’re telling me that he stood in the middle of town with his hand on a bible and disowned his dead son? Not just Ben, but Sammy?”

“I’m sorry,” Anna said.

Abe held out the small bit of folded parchment. “I didn’t put it in the letter. I figured it wouldn’t be important to Washington but…”

Caleb took the letter and tucked it into the inner pocket of his jacket. “Did you see him do it?”

Anna nodded. “If it helps he seemed to hesitate before he said the bit about Ben and Sam.”

“It doesn’t. Because it doesn’t matter. Because he didn’t mean it.”

“Caleb…” Abe sighed.

“He didn’t mean it. I know him.” Caleb took a step back towards his boat, longing to head back out onto the water where he could think clearly again.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve been home,” Abe pointed out.

“Shut your mouth,” Caleb snapped. “Good men like that: they don’t change. They don’t toss aside their kids for having the backbone they gave them.”

Anna grabbed Abe’s wrist gently and started to back away. “We should go.” They disappeared back into the trees, starting to whisper just as they got out of Caleb’s earshot. It didn’t matter. They could think what they liked but Nathaniel Tallmadge was a good man and Caleb didn’t believe what they’d told him for a second.

Except as he rowed out into the water it got harder not to think about it. He kept thinking that maybe he was wrong. Maybe things had changed. Maybe he wasn’t the man that Caleb remembered. The thought twisted his stomach. There was no way, just no way he’d turn against his sons.

The thought continued on with him when he was back on land, and even with the distraction of camp Caleb couldn’t shake it. The mix of worry, confusion, pain, and fear sat right in the center of his mind, weighing him down.

Every time he looked at Ben he worried about what he would do if he ever found out. Maybe he’d lash out, get so angry at his father he couldn’t see straight. Or maybe he’d accept it quietly, the way he sometimes did with things too big to carry. Neither sat right with Caleb. It was too much pain and he wouldn't inflict it on Ben. Not unless he had to.

It was weeks before he was out in Setauket again. He met with Abe alone this time, Anna still at the tavern, and neither of them spoke of Reverend Tallmadge. After they were done Caleb got back in the boat and rowed just a bit down the shore until he was closer to the Tallmadge house. He climbed out and made his way there, hidden in the dark of night and knowing all the shadows by heart.

He’d spent a lot of time sneaking out with the Tallmadge boys, running wild in the night. But he’d spent just as much time sneaking into their house, to sit quietly in their room and whisper late into the night until he fell asleep in one of their beds, or on the floor. He’d woken up more times than he could count to one of the Tallmadge parents standing over him, sighing loudly and asking him if he knew where his own bed was.

After checking that there was no light coming from any of the windows he jimmied open the back door and let himself inside. He avoided all the squeaky floorboards as he made his way to the master bedroom, easing open the door as quietly as he could. Nathaniel was alone in his bed fast asleep. Caleb considered waiting until dawn when they could see each other clearly. But he wasn’t feeling generous enough to let the man sleep so he went back out into the living room, grabbed a candle, and lit it with the low embers in the fireplace.

As he walked back into the room he smacked the wall loudly with the heal of his boot just to shock Nathaniel awake. It worked and he snapped awake, turning towards the noise. “Caleb? What are you doing here? Is Ben alright?”

“Ben’s fine,” Caleb said in a faux cheery voice he’d been told was a bit unnerving by a few of the younger sailors he’d whaled with. It sounded a bit like a threat. “Mostly because I haven’t told him yet.”

“Told him what?” Nathaniel said, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed but making no further move to get up.

Caleb just stared at him.

“I see. How did you even hear about that?” Nathaniel asked.

“I spend quite a bit more time in taverns than your son and listen to more rumors too. It’s quite the feather in their hat, being able to say even a preacher disowned his own children to side with the crown. Helps wash down what they did to Lucas,” Caleb lied easily. In truth, he didn’t get to spend time in taverns with all the time he spent running around for Sackett and Ben, and even in the few he’d been in no one was talking about some preacher in a small town.

“And you believed them?”

“Did you do it?”

“Yes, but for good reason.”

Caleb’s blood went cold and he was sick all over again. He’d been holding onto a sliver of hope that Anna and Abe were wrong. That they’d lied to him. That they’d misunderstood the whole thing. “Did they have a gun to one of the town kids' heads? Short of that, I don’t think there is a good enough reason.”

“Do not lecture me, son,” Nathaniel snapped, his tone turning quickly to that of a father warning a child who was going too far too fast.

“A lecture’s the least I can give you,” Caleb snapped back, anger burning bright.

Nathaniel stopped short, staring at Caleb for a long moment. “Did you come here to kill me for betraying Ben and Sam?”

Caleb’s heart clenched at the thought of killing the man in front of him. He loved him. The most Caleb could ever manage against him was a few solid punches. The idea that he could do worse made him sick, especially Nathaniel believing it. Maybe he did think the army was just a bunch of lawless animals clawing for authority without a king. “I came here to hear you tell me it ain’t true.”

Nathaniel sighed more gently. “I’m afraid it is. I took that oath, but I have no intention of keeping it. Haven’t actually, not even for a second. I just wanted them to stop watching me so damn closely. I’m no use if I’ve got them breathing down my neck.”

“And what use are you swearing loyalty to the king?”

“People...Your uncle was well-loved in this town. And what happened didn’t sit right with anyone. Some people are willing to lend a hand to the continental army now just to get the damn redcoats out of our home.”

Relief flooded through Caleb. Finally, he had the answer he’d been grasping for for weeks. “You want to help?”

“Caleb. Son. I would have thought you’d know me better than to think I’d really turn my back on my family for the men who killed an innocent man in front of me.”

Suddenly Caleb felt like a kid again. “I wanted to.” He shrugged. “Now tell me what you're thinkin'.”

***

Ben wasn’t sure if the worst part was the disappointment or the fact that he wasn’t surprised.

He’d just gone to Setauket because Caleb had been out on some errand for Sackett when the signal had come. In all honesty, he had thought it would be nice to get out of camp for a while, the peace of the woods and the water was never lost on him.

The problem was that when he’d met with Anna she’d given him a big hug and started telling him how sorry she was before he’d even known what she was talking about. By the time she’d finished explaining Ben had been so wrapped up in his own head he’d nearly left without the letter.

It was so like his father to put the safety of the town above his children. The man was an expert at prioritizing what was important and Ben had always known that he didn’t rank as high as the congregation as a whole. Sure, maybe he outranked a few of the individual members of the town, but Ben never kidded himself into thinking that his father thought he was special enough to outrank them all.

That didn’t stop the bone-deep sadness from taking hold of him. He’d been so proud to know that his father was on their side. Even after he’d chosen to stay in Setauket Ben allowed himself to think that he was staying out of love for the town, not because he intended to turn his back on the cause. But that’d been foolish and he should have known better.

He’d made his way back to camp in a daze and was almost back at his tent when he caught sight of Caleb and snapped out of it.

Caleb was sitting next to the fire outside of Ben’s tent, clearly waiting for him to get back. Before Ben had even thought it all the way through he marched up to Caleb and pushed him off of his stool.

Caleb fell into the mud with a curse.

“You knew and you didn’t tell me!”

“Knew what?” Caleb asked, standing up and wiping the mud off himself though Ben could see him mentally preparing for the fight.

“About my father,” Ben snapped.

Caleb sighed and fully relaxed, sitting back down. “Sackett told you then.”

“Sackett knows?” Embarrassment and anger flashed through Ben. The only way it could be worse was if Washington himself knew.

“Of course he…” Caleb trailed off, looking up at Ben who was thinking of pushing him off the stool again. “What are you talking about?”

“I already told you-”

“Yeah, yeah. But what about your father?”

“His oath.”

For the first time Caleb seemed to register what Ben was wearing. “You went to see Abe and Anna.”

“We got the signal and you were gone. Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not. Sit,” he said lightly kicking another stool next to the fire.

Ben considered standing just for the sake of being stubborn but relented and sat.

“He’s still on our side," Caleb whispered. “He did take that oath, but he lied."

Ben was glad he’d sat because he was suddenly boneless with relief. His father hadn’t meant it. His father was still on their side. He still had a father.

“We’re working out a way of having some of the people in Setauket give us supplies where they can. Sackett said not to tell Anna and Abe in case one ring got discovered we’d still have the other.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Caleb looked away into the fire. “Wouldn't have helped anything for you to know,” Caleb said with a shrug.

Ben shook his head, reading what Caleb wasn't saying. “I could have handled it.”

“Well, I handled it instead.”

Ben sat, stewing for a moment. Now that the pain of his father’s betrayal was gone the flicker of anger he’d felt at Hewlett for making him take the oath in the first place flared up. “I thought he was a good man, misguided but good.”

Caleb just stared at him for a minute.

“Hewlett,” Ben explained.

“Ah,” Caleb sighed.

“Me, I could understand. I’m still an officer, I am the one who marched through town.” Ben could feel the disgust building up in him as he continued to stare into the fire and think about what’d been done. “But Sam is dead. To make a man standing in front of the whole town and spit in the face of his dead son is…” Ben grasped for words to describe it but it was too petty, too cruel.

Caleb shrugged. “Doubt Sam cares much. You though…”

“I’m fine,” Ben snapped at him.

Caleb put his hands up in surrender.

“They can do what they like to me but my family…”

“Aye. That’s why I can’t let them do what they like to you. He’ll pay for this, don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.”

“That list of people who have to pay keeps getting longer,” Ben said quietly thinking of Simcoe’s name that sat right at the top.

“Then we best get to work.”

**

There was no moon and the early autumn air was chilling him to the bone. Caleb shook his head as Ben rubbed his fingers together, trying to get some warmth. “I told you not to come,” Caleb whispered.

“And I told you to shut up,” Ben whispered back. They were a few miles down the coast from Setauket waiting for someone to come deliver supplies that some of the town had been hoarding for the army. Ben wasn’t sure if his father would be the one making the delivery, but he hoped and he couldn’t let himself pass up the opportunity to see him.

The other man they had brought with them rolled their eyes as they continued to wait. Finally, there was the sound of wagon wheels slowly turning and the steady beat of horse hooves on the ground.

“Stay put,” Caleb said, getting up from where he was crouched in the boat. Silently he walked up the shore until he was closer to the treeline and the road just beyond it. He made a quiet whip-poor-will call and waited. The hoofbeats stopped and for a moment everyone waited with their hearts in their throats and hands on their guns before another voice started to whistle a hymn.

Before Ben even registered it he started to smile. He’d know that whistling anywhere. Caleb turned back to them and nodded as he started to whistle the song back.

The sound of three men jumping out of the cart came and soon his father was stepping out of the treeline smiling and wrapping Caleb in a hug before he’d seen anyone else.

“Good to see you too,” Caleb said with a laugh, clapping him hard on the back. “But there’s someone else here for you.” He jerked his head towards Ben who took a semi-hesitant step towards his father.

His father had no hesitation though and in two steps Ben was wrapped in a tight hug. Ben hugged him back, holding on tight for a moment even as he heard the other men starting to unload the cart. When the hug broke his father held him out at arm's length and inspected him. “Hard to see you properly with no moon but you look well.”

“You do too,” Ben said with a smile.

“Apparently spy-work agrees with me. Like father, like son.” He turned to look at the other men loading crates into the boat. Caleb just waved them off on a return trip to the cart. “We didn’t have as much to offer as we’d hoped,” he started to explain.

“Every bit helps,” Ben said. “With winter on its way.”

Nathaniel nodded. “It’s going to be a hard one if old McAlister’s bad knee is to be believed.”

“It hasn’t been wrong before,” Ben said remembering the stubborn old man who swore he could predict the weather from the way his knee was aching. He was the type of man who had been old Ben’s whole life, he was a little surprised the man was even still alive.

“No, it hasn’t.” He was silent for a minute just staring out onto the water.

“How is everything else? Is anyone on to you?”

Nathaniel waved his hand. “No, everyone who doesn’t know thinks I meant every word of that oath. You should see how that Anna Strong looks at me during service these days. You’d think she could kill with just her eyes.”

Ben laughed tightly. “I heard it was very convincing.”

Nathaniel laughed. “So convincing even Caleb believed it.”

“Did not. But I had to check, didn’t I?” Caleb said as he passed by with a crate full of apples.

“Still should have known better,” Nathaniel said, turning to look at Caleb.

Shame flooded through Ben as he remembered how he’d just accepted it when Anna had told him. He really should have known better than to doubt his father. He might have made an oath to the king, that anyone could have seen happening, but to disown Ben and Sam was another thing entirely. It had been a cruelty of Hewlett to ask, but it should have been preposterous to think Nathaniel would accept. Ben really should have had more faith in his father.

Caleb scoffed and waved him off again as he went to get another crate.

Nathaniel turned back to Ben, the smile immediately dropping off of his face. “What?”

“Nothing,” Ben said, trying to shake himself out of it.

For a second Nathaniel's eyes searched him and Ben prayed that the darkness would hide whatever it was he was looking for. There was no such luck though. “You believed it too?”

“To protect the people of the town…” Ben started only to be stopped when his father lightly cuffed him upside the head. It didn’t hurt but it was just enough to make Ben understand how serious of a scolding he was in for.

“Honestly, what did I do to you boys to make you think I’d do that?”

Ben sighed, opening his mouth to argue.

“That was rhetorical,” Nathaniel said. “You’re my son, Benjamin. Nothing you do will ever change that, and certainly no British Army officer is going to change that. Use your head next time.”

Ben nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“I certainly hope so.”

Caleb sighed loudly as he put down the last crate, cutting a look over at Ben and Nathaniel to see if they were done. “That’s it then.”

Ben and Nathaniel nodded sharply at the same time.

“We’ll send the signal when we have another load for you. Around Christmas or so. They keep a close eye on what we have so it can take a while,” Nathaniel explained.

“That’s fine. We appreciate the help but no one in town needs to put themselves at risk of not making it through winter for us,” Ben said.

“You spent too much time in that city before you joined up, son. We don’t just let people starve in our town, not if we can help it.”

“Then don’t put yourselves in a position where you can’t help it,” Ben shot back.

“We should go before these two really get into it,” Caleb said rolling his eyes. “Be seein’ y’all.”

“Be seeing you, Brewster,” the two other men from town said with a wave.

Nathaniel turned back to Ben. “Smack that boy upside the head for me will you?” he said as he wrapped Ben in another hug.

“With pleasure,” Ben said, hugging him back. “Be safe, all of you,” he said as he got on the boat. All three of the men rolled their eyes at him.

Caleb pushed them off of shore and they started to glide silently into the dark. Ben grabbed another oar and started to paddle them forward into the night, following Caleb’s directions as he steered them by the stars, leaving his father behind but taking the evidence of his care back with him in crates to camp.

Caleb didn’t have it in him to argue. He wrapped his blankets around himself and got up to walk the three steps to Ben’s bed. Ben scooted back against the wall and Caleb bit the inside of his cheek when the cold hit him fresh as he spread the blankets out over Ben’s. But then he was under the covers and there was just a little bit of warmth. Ben’s bed was closer to the fire and with another person under the blankets Caleb was almost warm enough to actually sleep.

Though he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to relax even if he did get warm. He hadn’t shared a bed with Ben in years, certainly not since he’d realized exactly how he felt about the man. It made his heart beat hard and he forced himself to lay along the edge of the bed to give Ben enough room and make sure he gave off no hint of just how badly he wanted to wrap his body around Ben’s. Or have Ben wrap his body around Caleb. He wasn’t picky.

There was a slight shifting next to him and then a hand on his waist, pulling him back. “You’re too close to the edge. I don't want you to fall off and take all the blankets with you.”

Caleb sighed and moved back, pulling Ben’s arm so it was wrapped around him. “Only if you move away from that damn wall. Wood’s probably just a block of ice at this point.”

Ben grumbled but moved to meet him in the middle, Ben’s chest pressed to Caleb’s back, and their legs bent and fitted perfectly together. Caleb let go of Ben’s hand, expecting Ben to take it back, as he scooted just a bit to give him more room. Ben tightened his hold on Caleb so he couldn't go anywhere.

“You said you’d stay away from the edge if I came away from the wall. Stay put, Brewster,” Ben grumbled, rubbing his frozen nose against the back of Caleb’s neck. He must have been more tired than Caleb thought.

“If you wanted to cuddle me all you had to do was ask, Tallboy,” Caleb said, pretending that there wasn’t a knot in his stomach and a rock in his throat.

Ben’s arm tightened. “Good to know."

*** Caleb’s face was freezing, but the rest of him was warm and cozy. He snapped alert suddenly when he remembered why he was so warm. Ben was still wrapped around him, his hand pressed to Caleb’s chest like he was afraid Caleb would run away with the warmth even in his sleep.

Caleb rolled over enough to look over his shoulder to see Ben’s face twisted and frowning. A soft warmth blossomed in his chest at the sight. Sometimes Ben looked peaceful in his sleep and it was beautiful, but more often than not he was frowning like he was arguing in his dreams.

He looked up at the window and saw light streaming in and he guessed it was early morning still. The fire had died overnight and he sighed, knowing that he needed to get up and relight it sooner rather than later.

He started to slip out of bed but Ben’s arm tightened around him. “I gotta light the fire,” Caleb said, patting Ben’s arm and for a moment allowing him to imagine that this is what their life was really like. Like he always woke wrapped up in Ben’s arms and Ben always held him back when he had to get up, like Ben actually wanted to stay in bed with Caleb all day.

Ben opened his eyes slowly and took back his arm, curling up as Caleb got out of bed. “Fine.”

“Oh thanks for the permission to freeze my balls off,” Caleb grumbled as he went to the fireplace. He was able to get it lit quickly though and redressed, pulling on a wool hat he’d knit for himself a few weeks before.

“Thank you,” Ben said.

“Call it payment for sharin’ your bed,” Caleb said with a laugh.

“It was a real hardship for me,” Ben said with a barely-there grin.

That night Caleb was the one to admit defeat to his exhaustion first. Ben frowned but agreed, no doubt upset at the idea of leaving his cozy spot in front of the fire. He was the one to build up the fire again for the night while Caleb checked the door was latched and glanced out the window just to make sure that they were as alone as they thought they were. He went to take his blankets that hadn’t been moved off of Ben’s bed when Ben snapped at him. “Don’t you dare.”

“There are easier ways to kill me than making me freeze to death,” Caleb said, only half turning to look at Ben glaring at him in the sweater Caleb had stolen off of a rich estate’s clothesline last spring on their way north. Ben hadn’t approved but his principles hadn’t kept him warm so when the weather took a turn Ben had worn it with minimal grumbling. Caleb thought he looked good in it, though he was biased.

“You won’t freeze to death because we’re going to share again tonight,” Ben said like they were still in the army and he was giving an order, not that Caleb had listened to his orders too often anyway. Some amount of Caleb’s amusement must have shown on his face because Ben’s whole body shifted and he seemed to shrink a little. “Unless you don’t want to then take them, by all means.”

“No. It’s smart to share the bed,” Caleb said. He couldn’t place what emotion flashed across Ben’s face but it scared him into correcting himself. “At least until spring.”

Ben nodded once and Caleb couldn't take the look in his eyes anymore so he turned back to the bed. “I’ll sleep closer to the wall tonight so you can be closer to the fire.” Caleb crawled in and put himself as close to the wall as he could without touching it, though he could feel the cold radiating off of it. A few minutes later Ben joined him and Caleb had to keep his eyes closed because watching Ben climb into bed with him might have made his heart explode.

“There’s room,” Ben said, and Caleb took it as the invitation it was. He wrapped his arm around Ben’s middle and moved until they were pressed together, back to chest, cursing himself. Ben clearly thought they were just two friends trying to get through winter. He didn’t know the way it was driving Caleb mad. He didn’t know the way Caleb was cherishing this moment to live in forever. He probably didn’t want this to happen at all, and wouldn’t be allowing it if it were so damn cold.

Caleb was broken out of his thoughts when Ben pressed himself back into Caleb’s chest firmly. “Why are you so much warmer than me?”

Caleb laughed then grabbed one of Ben’s hands, warming the tips of his fingers against Caleb’s palm. Ben melted into him again. “Just be grateful.”

“I am.”

Caleb was really starting to like the winter.

Taglist

** Robert woke suddenly to the sound of a knock, and only had half a moment to panic before his door started to open. Mulligan was staring back at him with wide eyes and they both knew it was too late for him to hide. “Robert, can you-. Oh. I’m sorry,” Samuel said, his eyes barely seeing Mulligan before he turned around and shut the door behind him.

“Dear God,” Mulligan whispered, looking like he was about to be sick. Then he sprung out of the bed and started to redress, his fingers fumbling over the ties and buttons in his haste. “I’m so sorry, Robert.”

“No. You said you would fall asleep and I said I would wake you and I didn’t. It’s my fault,” Robert said as he got dressed as well, trying to think of an excuse that would justify why Mulligan was naked in his bed.

When he was done he looked to Mulligan who nodded. “I’ll get my things and head straight out the door. Write to me. And if you need to, come to the city. You have a place with me.”

Robert shook his head. “It won’t come to that. But I’ll write, I promise,” he said, taking Mulligan’s hand.

Mulligan kissed him quickly and then slipped out the door and into his room. He was already halfway down the stairs before Robert had managed to compose himself enough to face his father.

“Hercules,” Samuel said, brightly just as Mulligan was opening the front door. “Where are you going so soon? I’ve made you some eggs. You too, Robert. Come, eat.”

Mulligan set his bag down by the door and followed Samuel to the table and Robert followed him.

Sure enough, the table was set with bread and eggs for each of them. Robert stared at the eggs for a moment, forcing himself to grab the bread.

It felt like each moment stretched on forever. They weren’t even halfway done when Samuel clapped his hands together. “Will you two please relax? You’re spoiling breakfast.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Robert lied before taking a long drink of ale.

“So I’m imagining the tension that’s threatening to suffocate us all?”

“There’s no reason why there would be any tension,” Robert said. “Mr. Mulligan was -”

“I have a fairly good idea of why Hercules was in your room this morning.”

“Mr. Townsend-,” Mulligan started but Samuel held up his hand, silencing them both.

“Boys, you have nothing to fear here. All love comes from God which means all love that is freely given and returned, is good and right.” Robert released the breath that had been caught in his throat since he’d heard the knock and Mulligan blinked a few times, looking close to tears. “I will have to learn to be more patient when waiting for Robert to answer my knocking.”

“Thirty years and all it took was you finding a man in my bed,” Robert grumbled without really thinking about the words.

“I knew you were asleep. I could hear you snoring from the hallway,” Samuel said, rolling his eyes.

Mulligan cracked a smile but quickly looked back down to his plate.

Samuel turned to Hercules, putting a gentle hand on his arm. “And I could hardly mistreat someone who has brought my son so much joy.”

Mulligan gave a half-hearted smile but his shoulders lost some of their tension and he didn’t hide when his eyes made contact with Robert’s.

**

An hour later Robert walked out to the barn with Mulligan, he did still have to go back to the city after all. He helped him put the saddle on the horse but once there was nothing to be done except for Mulligan to ride off he grabbed his hand, not quite ready to say goodbye yet.

Mulligan seemed to understand without a word and stepped closer, kissing Robert sweetly. “I meant what I said.”

Robert’s heart jumped into his throat. “You say a great many things.”

“You’re lucky you’re handsome, otherwise you’d be truly insufferable,” Mulligan said, shaking his head even though he was smiling.

“I could say the same about you.”

“Oh, you think I’m handsome?”

“Unfortunately.”

Mulligan kissed him again. “I’m trying to be serious here.”

“No one’s stopping you.”

“When I told you that you have a place with me, I meant it. You might not need one, but you have one. Franny and Minnie love you, Franny even said she'd be willing to marry you if need be. More importantly, I love you so know that there is a place in the city for you.” Mulligan was looking at him expectantly and Robert couldn’t meet his gaze. It was too much. There was too much emotion on his face and Robert couldn’t handle all of his while also trying to sort out his own.

He tucked a bit of hair behind Mulligan’s ear. “I don't need a place in the city, as you've seen.”

Hercules signed. "I know. Clearly, you don't need to marry Franny, though her family is very wealthy so you might want to rethink that."

"You should understand that when I told you I wouldn't move back to the city I meant that," Robert said, hating himself for it. It needed to be said because he really wasn't going to move back to the city but he hated to disappoint Hercules.

Hercules grabbed his face gently, forcing Robert to look at him. "And I don't want you to. You're happy here. And your happiness is paramount." He let go of Robert's face and smiled. "I just meant that if something were to happen you have a home there. A place where you will be safe no matter what."

Robert nodded and leaned forward to kiss Hercules softly. "You have a home here as well. You, and Minnie, and Franny."

Hercules laughed brightly. "Don't let Franny find out you said that or she'll be plotting our escape from the city to your farm for the summer."

"We can always use the extra help."

"Do you remember what I said about her family being wealthy? Neither her nor Minnie would be the definition of help."

"Anyone can be taught," Robert countered.

"Is that a challenge, Mr. Townsend?"

"No, Mr. Mulligan."

Hercules laughed again, his smile bright and warm.

"Shall I visit you the weekend after next then?" Robert asked. "Once spring starts there will be no getting away from here until the harvest is done."

"Wonderful." He leaned forward and kissed Robert soundly. When he broke away Robert missed him but he was already getting up on the horse to ride home. "I'll let the girls know. And James. He misses you dearly, and has demanded that the next time you visit I invite him for dinner as well."

"We wouldn't want to disappoint James."

"I'll never hear the end of it."

They walked out of the barn together and Hercules hesitated just a moment. "I will see you the Friday after next," Robert said.

"I'll be counting the days," Hercules said. "I love you."

Robert smiled. "I love you too."

Hercules winked at him and then turned up the drive. Robert stood in the middle of their drive watching him go, longing already swelling in his chest as he watched him. When he was out of sight Robert turned around and saw his father standing on the porch watching him.

Robert sighed. “Don’t.”

Something flared bright red and hot inside him and it must have shown because Caleb snapped back. He didn’t look afraid, per se, more unsettled. One part of Ben wondered why. Another was satisfied. “Why?” 

“You’ve barely eaten in days. You look like shite. Just take a break and eat the fuckin’ food,” Caleb begged. There was no sincerity in his face or tone though. Ben could tell he was lying. 

A thought occurred to him. Bright and clear and as plain as day. He felt stupid for not having noticed it before. “Why do you want us to fail? When did they get to you?” 

Caleb looked like he’d been slapped. “You think the redcoats got to me and that’s why I want you to eat?” 

“Why else would you want me to stop?” 

Caleb just stared at him for a long second, shaking his head. “Fine. Do whatever you want. Run yourself into the goddamn ground see if I fucking care,” Caleb said, turning and leaving the tent. 

Ben had expected more denials and it made him curious as to what plan Caleb had; what plan the English had. He decided he’d let it play out a few more days, maybe he’d be able to spot the weakness that they’d used to get to Caleb in the first place. He didn’t think Caleb had ever been detained on a ride, but he must have been wrong. Ben would have to be more careful about monitoring the length of time the trips took with his new courier. 

***

The bugle played and Ben nearly cried. He might have if he’d had the energy. Instead, he took a second to steel himself as he stared up at the tent ceiling. He was exhausted down to his very bones. Still, he forced himself to sit up and get dressed and comb his hair and tie it back in a braid. 

He was hungry. And thirsty. But getting food meant going outside his tent, and if he did that someone might speak to him, ask him a question and his brain was just far too foggy to even begin to deal with that. Instead, he sat and looked at the list of things he needed to finish that day, the list he’d written the night before when he’d been too tired to keep his eyes open anymore. 

“Good morning,” Caleb’s chipper voice came a second before Caleb opened the flaps of the tent and let himself in. 

Ben forced a smile on his face, though it felt like it should have been genuine. Seeing Caleb first thing in the morning was nice and he’d missed in the past few days while Caleb had been off to Setauket. That was another thing he had to do, he had to read Abe’s letter. He hadn’t even had the energy to open in the night before when Caleb had brought it in. 

Caleb didn’t seem phased by the fake smile that Ben was sure he could see through. Caleb always could see straight through him, but Ben always tried to lie anyway. He owed Caleb something more genuine but he never could manage it. Lie after lie came and he wasn’t able to stop it. Caleb was a better friend than he deserved. 

“Brought you breakfast,” he said, setting the plate on the corner of the desk, careful not to set it on any of the letters scattered across the desk. Caleb was always so careful. Ben loved him so much. 

“Thank you,” Ben said, grabbing the bread first. 

“What’s on the docket?” Caleb asked, stepping up behind Ben and digging his fingers into Ben’s shoulders. 

“Don’t you have your own responsibilities?” 

“What part of special detail don’t you understand? You are my responsibility, not much else. So, what do you need me to do today?” 

Ben shook his head and felt a small, genuine smile make its way to his face. “That’s not what that means.” 

“Think it does.” Caleb pressed his thumbs up the column of Ben’s neck on either side of his spine. It felt so good Ben didn’t have it in him to argue anymore. 

He looked at his list, the first three things were that he needed to give orders to his men to go scouting, five men in three directions. He felt a surge of guilt at even considering asking Caleb to take care of this for him. Though he’d done it before, he let Caleb give orders and the men accepted them from Caleb as if they’d come out of Ben’s mouth, but still, it was his responsibility. 

He picked up the list and tore off the top. “Will you send out the men scouting? I wrote down where they need to go and which groups.” Caleb plucked the list out of his hand with a happy little hum. 

“That I can do. I’ll even find them some dappled gray horses to take out,” Caleb said, patting Ben’s shoulder. 

“Thank you,” Ben said, feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted from his chest. 

“Of course,” Caleb said, turning around at the door. “I’ll be back in a while for my next orders, sir.” He saluted and winked and they both laughed as he left. 

Ben turned back to his desk, his smile lingering for a second before he shivered. The tent was colder without Caleb at his back. The list was shorter now though and he was almost able to work up enough hope to think he might get through the whole thing today. Next up: Abe’s letter. 

***

Ben stared down at the map in front of him, sure that the answer would come to him. He’d been running strategies through his mind all night, sure that there was a plan just out of reach that would guarantee their victory. 

He’d tried to take a break earlier to read Abe’s newest letter, sure that Culper Jr. held the key but Abe’s handwriting must have taken a turn for the worst because Ben hadn’t been able to make heads or tails of it. He’d have to ask Caleb if he could make it out in the morning. 

“Ben?” a whispered voice came before Caleb’s face poked through the tent flaps. “Oh fuck.” 

“Caleb! Perfect timing, I need your help,” Ben said, grabbing his friend and pulling him further into the tent. 

“No, Tallboy, you need to sleep. It’s the middle of the night. Almost dawn,” Caleb said softly. His voice was rough and he was whispering. 

“You’re awake.”

“I had to piss. I only came in here because I thought you fell asleep at your desk again and forgot to put out the candle,” Caleb said, with a deep sigh. 

“That doesn’t happen.” 

Caleb opened his mouth to argue but closed it, shaking his head. “Okay. Sit on the cot and tell me what you need me to do,” he said with a yawn. 

Ben rolled his eyes but sat on the cot. He wasn’t tired. He hadn’t been tired in days. “Okay, look at Abe’s letter. Can you make it out?” 

Caleb picked it up off the desk and squinted at it for a minute. He sat next to Ben on the cot and Ben craned his neck but the letters in front of him still made no sense. He felt the ribbon on his braid come undone and then Caleb was running his fingers through Ben’s hair. It felt incredible and Ben let out a deep breath, relaxing into the touch. 

Caleb stood and went next to the candle, still frowning at the letter. “Take off your boots.” 

“Why?” 

Caleb shrugged. “You’ve been wearing them all day. You need to air them out or they’ll stink. No one wants to take orders from a man with stinky boots.” 

Ben rolled his eyes. He knew what Caleb was doing but it wasn’t going to work, because he wasn’t tired. But there was no harm if Caleb was going to keep reading the letter. He took off his boots and because it felt odd to be wearing his jacket without his boots he shed his jacket and waistcoat. 

In the morning he wouldn’t remember laying down or falling asleep, but he would be able to look at Abe’s letter and read every word clear as ever. 

**

The only thing that Ben seemed able to feel those days were exhaustion, guilt, and anger. And at that moment the guilt was burned away by his anger. Caleb was drunk and crying and ruining everything because he couldn’t pull it together. 

“You could have told me,” he ground out before storming away from Caleb. He would have to fix this himself just like everything else. No wonder he was tired. 

Then only Champe showed up at the dock and Ben could already hear Mary yelling at him. They left and Ben held it together the rest of the way back to camp. He was just happy that neither of the other men seemed eager to talk. Ben could learn to appreciate that about Champe. 

It was dawn before he trudged into his tent, exhausted and determined to sleep for a few minutes before he had to report to Washington the bad news. There only seemed to be bad news these days. 

He shrugged out of his civilian jacket and was about to toss it onto his desk chair when he saw a note that hadn’t been there when he’d left earlier. 

I’m sorry. 

-C

Ben felt emotion bubble up in him but he didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the guilt he’d ignored earlier, all he knew was that it made tears burn his eyes. He took off his boots and laid down with the note clutched to his chest. 

Caleb, as he did most mornings, had brought him his breakfast. Caleb had better things to be doing but he claimed it was so that he could sneak a bit off of Ben’s plate on the way to his tent and Ben, nor anyone else, ever had the energy to press the matter. It was nice and it usually meant Caleb would hang around for at least a little while while Ben ate. And Caleb had just returned from his last run to Setauket the day before; he must have seen some on the way back.

That night when Caleb brought his plate with was with the same flippant grin he did everything with. “Your dinner, Major Tallmadge.” He made the rank sound like a joke.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Brewster,” Ben said with just as much laughter in his voice. There was a chunk of what looked to be rabbit meat, beans, bread, and a much smaller bit of some other type of meat that Ben couldn't immediately place. “Is everyone eating as well as me tonight?” he asked, trying to make it sound like a joke.

Caleb had known him too long and saw straight through him. “I’m sure General Washington is eating just fine if that’s what you’re worried about,” Caleb said with a laugh. Unfortunately for Caleb, Ben knew him just as well.

“Why did I have berries this morning with my breakfast and Hamilton didn’t?”

Caleb shrugged. “Mice?”

“Really?” he tried to make his disappointment clear in his voice. “I have a different theory.”

“Don’t you always?”

“Are you bringing me extra food?”

Caleb just settled more comfortably on the bed, as if in defiance.

“Caleb!”

Caleb just waved his hand and rolled his eyes. “I’m not stealing from anyone. Anyone we care about anyway.”

“I don’t need you giving me special treatment. I can survive on what everyone else gets,” Ben scolded, hoping he sounded angry. The truth was he was touched and a little bit pleased that Caleb had cared that much. But it wasn’t fair and they both knew it.

“I don’t know that you would. Too skinny. Always have been,” Caleb said shaking his head.

“It’s not fair to the other men.”

“Sod the other men. I’m the one riding out. I have the opportunity to get food from somewhere the army hasn’t picked clean and I take it. You ain’t gonna make me feel bad about it.” Caleb was staring at him like Ben was the dumbest man on Earth but Ben just stared back. It was more than a little surprising to hear Caleb say that. Of the two of them, Caleb was the one who spent the most time with them, he was the one with friends everywhere they turned. He was the one that people liked and who liked people in return.

Ben tried a different tactic. “It’s taking time out of your trips. Unnecessarily.”

“I’m not you. It doesn't take me an hour to set up a trap. Or skin a fuckin’ rabbit. Now stop throwing your tantrum and eat your damn dinner. I worked hard for it.”

Ben felt himself flush with anger and embarrassment. He didn’t need Caleb to baby him or the lecture about Ben’s admittedly poor survival skills.

He set aside his plate and stood.

“Oh? Are you going to fight me about it now?” Caleb asked, looking up at him with a grin.

“What I’m doing is ordering you to stop.”

“And I’m saying no.”

Ben clenched his jaw.

“Go ahead. Take it to Washington. See if he actually wants to bother with court marshaling me for disobeying this order. Or ask Hamilton. See what he thinks. Though he might be more willing to do it since you go berries and he didn’t.”

“I’m not joking, Brewster.”

Caleb stood, some of the humor having left him. “Neither am I.”

Ben sighed. He didn’t want to fight his friend, but he was willing to do it. “Brewster -”

“If it makes you feel better I share the bread with the other men who are around when it’s done.”

“The bread too?”

“Every once in a while I turn a pretty profit on the London trade and I buy some flour. Half the loaf for me and you, half they split amongst themselves,” Caleb explained. It was probably half the reason he had as many friends around camp as he did.

“Why not share the rest with them? I get the feeling you stretch what you catch a few days on just the two of us.”

Caleb smiled softly, shaking his head. “The rest o’ em ain’t you.”

Ben’s heart gave a hard thud. He took a step back and turned to his dinner finally. “You’re insufferable.”

“You got a funny way of pronouncing 'charming' and 'better friend than you deserve.'” Caleb laughed and sat back on the bed.

It was mid-December and the snow was already up to his ankles when he went to the cellar. Along the edge of the house where were smaller indents in the snow that caught his eye. He sighed heavily, already considering how to fashion some more traps before he realized that the prints were far too large for rats and weren’t the right shape for a raccoon. They reminded him of cat prints but he hadn’t seen a cat get close to the house in years.

He heaved the cellar door open, it squeaking and clanking loudly as he did. As soon as he was down the steps he knew he wasn’t alone and his heart jumped into his throat. In his mind’s eye he could see Abraham or Brewster or any number of other spies waiting and wanting something. He didn’t want to turn around, hoping against reason that if he didn’t see them they’d leave him in peace.

He turned anyway and saw the eyes watching him, bright gold in the dim light. Not a spy but a cat staring up at him. It was dark grey that looked poise to either pounce or run but had frozen in indecision when Robert just stared back at him.

Slowly, so not to spook the animal, Robert pulled his knife from his pocket and sliced a chunk of pork off of a ham. Just as slowly, he crouched down and placed the meat between them on the ground and waited. The cat just stared at him but neither of them moved. It was small and looked thin even though it should have been round from a winter coat. And even if it had a proper winter coat and a healthy layer of fat to protect it the poor thing must have been cold.

Robert didn’t know how long he sat there in the cold waiting. The sun had moved to the other side of the house and the cellar was darker, though he could still see the cat clearly and that was what mattered. He waited and finally the animal took a halting step closer.

When Robert still didn’t move it took another step and then another, eyes still fixed on him.

Robert waited patiently for the cat to come closer, feeling a little thrill of accomplishment with every step.

Finally, the cat got close enough to stretch its neck and get at the meat. It turned fast with its reward in its mouth but Robert was faster. He got a grip on the scruff of its neck and picked it up holding it out so its claws couldn't reach him. It hissed, dropping the meat and tried to wiggle out of his grip as Robert knelt back down and picked up the ham with his free hand. It continued to fight him as he carried it up the steps and kicked the cellar door shut.

He managed to get back inside the house without being scratched.

“Robert?” Samuel asked and Robert could hear him making his way from the living room to the kitchen. “What took so long? Are you okay?”

“Please go ensure our bedroom doors are shut,” Robert yelled back instead of an answer.

“Why?” Samuel asked as he came around the corner. “Is that a cat?”

“It was in the cellar,” Robert said as his only explanation.

Samuel hesitated for a moment before he smiled. “Very well.”

Robert listened to his father go upstairs as he whispered to the cat. “No one’s going to to hurt you. If you relax for a moment I’ll pour you some milk and you can have the ham back.”

The cat hissed again.

“The doors are shut,” Samuel yelled down.

Robert set the cat down gently and was unsurprised when it took off running.

Samuel came back into the kitchen as Robert was looking for a shallow saucer. “I sent you out for carrots and you brought back a cat.”

Robert tried not to blush. “I’m sorry. I’ll go back out and -”

“No, you will not. Go sit by the fire, your fingers are blue and I don’t particularly want you to loose them,” Samuel said with a frown pushing gently at Robert’s shoulders.

“I’m fine,” Robert complained though his joints did feel stiff and the heat of the room was making his face and fingers burn.

“No, you’re not. Go. I’ll pour it some milk. Is this ham for it as well?”

“Yes.”

Samuel sighed and shook his head though he didn’t look disappointed.

Robert went to the living room and sat on the floor with his back to the fire. He couldn't see the cat and he couldn’t hear it either but he knew it was somewhere in the house warming up and about to have a nice meal. A few minute later, after the heat had started to seep in through his jacket Samuel came back into the living room.

“Have you named it yet?”

Robert fixed his father with a flat look. “It’s not a pet. It was just cold so I brought it inside to warm up.”

“And eat.”

“And eat.”

“It’s been a while since we’ve had a cat. It could be nice. Help keep the mice away at least.”

“You never liked Rocky,” Robert said. Rocky had been another cat he’d found outside and befriended. Robert had been seven and he’d spent every day of the summer in the loft of the barn bringing it scraps he’d saved in his napkin from lunch. Eventually it let him pet it and purred when Robert scratched behind its ears as it lazed in the sun.

That had been how his mother had found him, lying on his stomach scratching the top of Rocky’s head an arms length away as they laid in the setting sun.

Rocky had startled up at the sight of her and hid behind Robert. A few days later and Rocky had an official name and slept on Robert’s bed at night.

“I loved Rocky. Rocky didn’t like me,” Samuel argued.

Robert tried his best not to laugh. Rocky had warmed up to his mother but was always cold to his father. “That’s because you picked him up.”

“Once and he never forgave me. I said I was sorry,” Samuel said, shaking his head.

“He was a cat. He didn’t speak English.”

Samuel glared at him.

They lapsed into silence. Samuel went back to his pamphlet while Robert lost himself in memories of Rocky.

He’d been a very good cat, a smart one too. He’d left dead mice on the doorstep so many times everyone had stopped being surprised when they opened the front door in the morning. He’d liked Robert best and once stayed curled against Robert’s neck for a week when he’d caught a cold. But time went on and they’d all gotten older and Rocky started to demanded being carried more often than not, he’d caught fewer mice and slept in the sun even more.

Robert didn’t stop crying for days when they’d found Rocky’s body in the loft of the barn. He’d been 12, too old for that ind of outburst by far. But his mother had held him and cried with him and his father had dug a grave under a tree and planted flowers on top of it after the burial. Some nights, when Robert was feeling particular maudlin, he wondered if God had sent Rocky to him so he’d been better prepared when two years later his mother passed. It’d been much worse but at least he’d had his own mother’s prayers in his mind as he’d stood over her grave.

Faintly, Robert heard a noise coming from the kitchen. He and Samuel froze looking up at each other as they listed to the cat drink. A smile broke over Robert’s face as warmth spread through his chest. There was the sound of the plate scratching across the floor as the cat finished its drink.

“I also gave it its ham,” Samuel whispered as if they could spook the cat from the other room.

“Thank you.”

“But I will need to start dinner now that our friend has eaten.”

Robert pushed himself up off of the ground with a sigh, taking a moment to stretch. “I’ll go fetch the carrots and check on the animals.”

He hadn’t gotten the door open enough to even step through when a gray blur shot between his legs and outside. He paused for a half a second to watch the cat bound across the yard to the treeline, ignoring the ache in his chest at the sight.

** Robert went downstairs the next morning already wrapped in his overcoat and gloves. It was early morning, the sun was just starting to come up but the animals needed feeding and someone to break the ice on their water troughs.

He turned into the kitchen where two large pots of water sat boiling on the stove and his father standing over the kettle. Robert pulled the sleeves down over his hands and was about to reach out and pick up the first pot when they heard a loud cry. They each froze looking at each other as if to confirm that they had both heard it.

The sound came again from the kitchen door, longer and more insistent that time. Robert went to the door and the little gray cat trotted inside, not even looking at Robert.

“I guess I’ll make our friend some breakfast as well,” Samuel said with a laugh. Robert shook his head and tried not to smile. He got the pot and Samuel followed him to the front door to open it for him.

Robert fed the animals, patting the ones who would come close enough after he’d poured the boiling water in their troughs to melt the ice. It hadn’t been their worst winter by far and he thought they’d still get everyone through it with the new barn. When he went back inside Samuel was already sitting at the table with a plate of eggs for each of them. On the floor there were two saucers with milk in one and eggs on another.

“You’ll spoil it,” Robert said after he’d said grace.

“Maybe. I’m making sure that this one likes me,” Samuel said with a shrug.

“We’re not keeping it.”

Samuel cocked his head to point at the cat that was staring at them. “He seems to disagree.”

After that they had a cat. Robert remained stubborn on the fact that they did not have a pet cat and that it was just spending a few hours at a time, including the night, in their house to warm up, but even he knew that would only last so long.

New Years day Robert came inside from breaking up the ice in the water troughs again to find Samuel in his chair talking to the cat in his lap. “You need a name. It’s past time. Should I just name you without asking Robert? I wanted him to name you but this is getting silly.”

“Are you done pretending you didn’t wait until I walked in to start this conversation with a cat who can’t answer you?” Robert asked as he warmed his fingers by the fire.

“Are you going to name this cat?” Samuel asked, scratching the top of head. It hadn’t taken long for the cat to warm up to Samuel. It probably had something to do with the fact that Samuel was always the one to feed him and he wasn’t the one who had picked up him by the scruff to bring him inside in the first place. Robert told himself it didn’t bother him.

“No.”

“Fine. I’ll name him.” He looked down at the cat and spoke in a high pitched voice. “How about Abraham? Do you like the name Abraham?”

“You’re not naming him Abraham.”

Samuel continued. “Or what about Tree?”

“That’s not a name.”

“Or Caleb.”

“No,” Robert said though he was on the verge of laughing. That was the problem with his father’s antics, they were almost always at least a little funny.

“Chipmunk? Dirt?”

“Fine.” He let out a heavy sigh. “How about James?” he said, trying to sound as if he’d never thought about it before. He’d thought about it a lot. It was stupid name, he knew that and one day if the cat stuck around Robert would have to explain it to Hercules, but he’d thought of it a week ago when it had been staring at him from across the room and he hadn’t been able to get it out of his head.

“As in Mr. Rivington?”

Robert blushed. “There are a lot of people named James.”

Samuel smiled up at him. “There are.” He turned back to the cat and talked in a high pitched voice. “Do you like the name James? Are you named James?”

The cat did not move.

Time marched on, the weather stayed cold, and James finally started to warm up to Robert. Most days that meant perching on the back of the couch where Robert was sitting and snoring in his ear. Robert pretended to mind much more than he did.

It was two weeks into the new year when a messenger arrived with a letter addressed to Robert, sealed with red wax imprinted with an M. He broke the seal alone in the kitchen trying not to feel like a child hiding while eating a cookie he wasn’t meant to have.

Dear Robert,

Forgive me for not writing sooner. This letter has been sitting on my desk taunting me for not having the time to write and for having nothing of particular interest to say. I know you detest the frivolity of parties and that seems to be all I’ve done for weeks in between working, which is rarely exciting these days. I won’t bore you with either kind of story.

I do miss you terribly, and your father as well of course. And if it is not too forward to invite myself I hoped I could come visit you soon. If not I will survive but only if you write back and tell me how you’ve been fairing these weeks.

Yours, Hercules

P.S. James sends his love and wishes you and your father a Merry Christmas and a happy New Year. He hasn’t forgotten about the one Thanksgiving you had and has decided to wish you a happy holiday on the off chance you’re celebrating it. He also said to tell you that you’re absurd and he forgave you before you had even left the city.

He blinked hard twice to clear away the tears in his eyes. Behind him the kettle whistled and he took the time to make their coffees to reign in his emotions. He folded the letter back up carefully and slipped it into his pocket before he went back to the living room.

He handed one mug to his father and then stopped by the fire for a moment to scratch James behind the ears. James meowed unhappily and batted at his hand before settling back down to sleep some more.

“Mr. Mulligan has asked if he can come and visit again,” Robert said, evenly.

“Oh, good. I’ve missed having him around,” Samuel said, smiling into his coffee. “Haven’t you?”

“I suppose the days when he visits are marginally more interesting than the days he doesn’t,” Robert said carefully.

“Marginally,” Samuel said, unimpressed with Robert’s assessment.

Robert wrote his reply that night in the privacy of his own room where his father couldn’t see his blush as he wrote.

Dear Mr. Mulligan,

You need not ask for forgiveness for not writing sooner. You are a busy man. And I cannot begrudge your friends for wanting your company when you have spent so much of your free time here instead of at dinner with them in the city. I can understand their feelings. We have missed your company here as well and would be happy to host you again. You are always welcome here as long as you can find the time.

I shall expect you to bring the stories of those parties and work that you left out of your letter, though. I doubt they would bore us at all. On the contrary, you have a talent for making even what should be dreadfully boring worth hearing.

You may tell Mr. Rivington that we did not mark the passing of Christmas or the New Year but we do hope he enjoyed his festivities. And we hope you did as well.

Yours, Robert

**

It was warm in his room, but there was a cool breeze that came through the windows. The room was filled with soft candle light that flickered across Hercules’s smiling face as he looked up at Robert. His auburn hair was fanned across the pillow and it was soft when Robert ran his fingers through it. “Robert,” he whispered, grasping at Robert’s arm suddenly, his eyes closing and biting his lip.

He wrapped his naked legs around Robert’s waist, keeping them together as Robert ducked down and kissed him. Robert moaned into the kiss, feeling as if his whole body was on fire. “Please,” Hercules whispered between kisses. Robert didn’t know what he was asking for but he knew that he would give it.

Robert snapped awake. It was dark and cold in his room and he was hard and alone. It only took a moment for the shame to build up in his throat and for him to kneel next to the bed and pray. Even when his fingers and toes went numb, and his knees ached he still couldn’t forget the fantom sensation of Hercules wrapped around him. He stayed there praying until dawn.

In the early morning light, with the sky still gray, he got dressed and headed downstairs. His father was still asleep so he was quiet as he fed the fire in the stove and went out the door to check the animals. Everyone was alive and well, ate their early morning breakfast happily. For a movement he stared at the empty stall where they had put Hercules’s horse when he visited, only to have the dream flash before his eyes again.

He flinched away as if the image were not in his own mind.

It was stupid. He’d been harboring these feelings for months and had done nothing to shun them, but now he shied away from them? Now that he had seen what it was that he wanted, created by his own mind, he truly considered what it meant?

He was back inside and starting breakfast for himself when his father came downstairs, James trotting ahead of him. “You look terrible.”

“Good morning to you too,” Robert said.

“Are you feeling alright?” Samuel asked, putting a hand to Robert’s forehead.

“I’m fine.” Robert pulled away from him. “I just didn’t sleep well. That’s all.”

“Maybe you should go lay down for a bit.”

“No,” Robert snapped.

“Nightmares?”

Robert frowned and stirred the eggs. Nightmares he could handle, this he couldn’t.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“You can’t bury this. These things, they tend to fester.” He put a hand on Robert’s shoulder but Robert just scooped the eggs onto a plate.

“Eat.”

“Robert,” he said, grabbing him more firmly and turning him towards him. Samuel stared up at Robert for a long time, frowning. “Whatever it was, you’re safe.”

Robert thought of the letter he’d posted the day before and wasn’t so sure.

**

Hercules arrived on a Thursday night when the snow was starting to melt. He was in pink and smiling wide as he greeted them both, hugging Samuel and trying to pat Robert on the shoulder only to have him flinch away.

Mulligan pulled his hand back as if he’d been burned. “How have you two been?” he asked, his smile confused. They were barely inside the front door, standing awkwardly in the small area.

“Oh good, good,” Samuel said, smiling wide. “The soup’s done, Robert, will you get it from the stove?”

Robert nodded. “Of course.” He left their little huddle and grabbed the bowls from the dining table. He could hear Mulligan and his father whispering in the doorway still. It wasn’t hard to guess at what it was they were talking about.

It’d been two weeks since Robert’s first dream of Hercules and he was barely sleeping. The dreams were repeating, different but always the same in the way that mattered. He’d wake from them with the heat of desire and the ice of shame sitting like rocks in his gut. He’d get on his knees to pray until dawn, begging for guidance, or forgiveness, or anything to release him from this cycle. At this point he’d stopped sleeping for anything more than a few minutes on the couch. He could barely look at his own bed.

The dreams were far from the worst of it, though. Because after the dreams and between the prayers his mind would wander again. He’d wonder for a moment what it would be like to have Hercules care for him the way he did in his dreams. He wondered, for just a few fleeting moments what it would be like to be held and kissed and to be Hercules’s beloved, but this wasn’t the worst either.

The worst moments were when he tossed aside God’s judgement and put Hercules’s happiness before it. He’d ignore all that he held dear, the foundation on which he built his life and instead concerned himself with the happiness of one man. Because even if God allowed such acts, Hercules still would not love him because Robert was too much himself and he knew it.

The worst thing, his biggest sin, was that the knowledge that he wanted Hercules but was not wanted in return was what broke him, not his actual moral failing.

When he came back into the dining room with the three bowls balanced, his father and Mulligan were already sitting at the table silently, waiting. When they were all settled and they had prayed over their food, their hands kept to themselves this time Hercules looked back to him again. “And you, Robert. How has winter treated you?”

“Well,” Robert said, staring into his soup. He was certain that if he looked up Samuel and Hercules would be looking at each other.

“Good,” Hercules said, trailing off into silence for a moment. “I don’t know how you two manage it. If I had to be out here all alone I’d go mad.”

Robert swallowed hard. “I know.”

“Though I felt like I was going mad at home this year and I was being dragged all over the city to parties. So maybe it’s something else. Maybe I just miss seeing the sun for more than an hour a day.”

Samuel stayed silent so Robert was forced to answer, too late and stilted to make a decent conversation. “Possibly.”

For a while Hercules gave up and they ate in quiet though not in peace. He could feel Hercules and his father staring at him, they’d had no problem carrying on a conversation without him before but now they were just waiting for him to crack. He could feel their worry pouring over him, grating on him until he wanted to scream.

After they had finished their food Robert took the dishes to the kitchen and hoped that his father and Mulligan would conspire in the living room while they let him wash the dishes alone so he could get a better handle on his emotions. He was not so lucky and a few minutes after he had disappeared by himself to clean Mulligan joined him.

“You’re a guest,” Robert said, a final bid for peace. “You should go sit by the fire with my father. I’m sure you have much to catch up on with him.”

“Just because I’m a guest doesn’t mean I can’t help a little,” he said as he shed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. “You two feed and house me whenever I come out and all I bring in exchange is stories of James singing a song he only remembered half the lyrics to while he danced around his sitting room on New Years Eve.”

“You’re a guest. We don’t need anything, even stories of James acting foolish,” Robert argued. He took a deep breath and turned to face Mulligan fully. He forced himself to give a small smile and use the same voice he did whenever he had shooed Rivington away during work. “Please, go sit and be comfortable, it couldn’t have been an easy ride in the cold.”

For a moment Mulligan looked as if he’d been struck, staring at Robert with wide eyes and a frown. “No. I’m going to help you with the dishes and then we can go sit together.”

Robert gritted his teeth and braced himself against the wave of conflicting emotions inside of him. A part of him was angry and embarrassed that Mulligan was pushing back. It was hard enough to draw these boundaries without them being challenged at every turn. He needed these boundaries, he needed space and air so that he could remember that Hercules did not want him the way Robert had dreamed. That he shouldn’t.

But against that anger and embarrassment there was a pleased part of him that relished in Hercules wanting to be around him. That part of him wanted to conceded so that maybe Hercules would calm his fears that Robert was not wanted.  

Robert turned back to the wash basin and continued to clean, handing the dishes to Mulligan to dry in silence.

“I saw James, the cat not the man. Though I did see the man before I headed out. He says hello by the way. He’s very cute, the cat.”

Robert hummed.

Mulligan allowed them to work in silence for a while, maybe hoping for an answer or maybe just resigning himself to his fate of being ignored. “You must like animals. You seem to take a great joy in caring for them, whenever I have seen you.”

“They are in my care. They are reliant on me.”

“You say that as if it were simple, as if there are not a thousand people who would argue that God granted us dominion over animals and so we can do as we like,” Mulligan said and it was Robert’s turn to recognize old tricks. Bait: pure, simple and infuriating.

“They are wrong,” Robert said, with no intention of elaborating. If he could spot bait he could avoid it.

Hercules went quiet again and they were allowed to finish the work in silence. But when they were done, and Robert was heading out of the kitchen, not quite fleeing, Hercules grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

A pleasant heat ran through him at the contact but he pulled his hand away as if it burned, as if he didn’t want those hands all over him. “Do not touch me.”

“Robert, tell me what’s wrong, please?”

“Nothing is wrong.” He walked out of the room, Hercules only a step behind him. “I’m going to bed, I’m very sorry, Mr. Mulligan, but I’m very tired, hopefully I will be able to see you before you set off in the morning.”

“Robert,” his father said, but Robert was already turning up the stairs to his room.

“I’m sorry,” was the last thing he heard before the door shut behind him. Hercules apologizing for Robert’s bad behavior.

He didn’t sleep any more than he had the last two weeks. ** The next morning Robert rose early almost beating the sun to the barn. He fed the animals and broke up the frozen troughs as he did every morning, but stayed a little longer in the barn than he might usually have. He leaned against the wall and stretched out his arm to pet his horse on the nose for a while, soothed by the blankness of the eyes that stared back at him.

She didn’t care about Robert’s inner turmoil or how it was spilling out into the rest of the world. She didn’t care that in the house there was probably a hushed conversation happening over half cooked eggs. She was just happy that he fed her and brought her water and took the time to pet her.

The barn door creaked open behind him and Robert prayed that it was just the wind. He knew he was wrong, he could feel the change in the air that happened whenever Mulligan was in the room.

“I don’t know what I did,” Hercules said quietly, shutting the barn door and the cold wind out.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. You’ve never been particularly good at playing stupid, please don’t try now.”

Robert took a deep breath and turned to him. It seemed he would not be getting out of this without some confrontation.

“What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“Feels as if I did. You have never been so cold to me as you were last night so I wonder, did I give myself away too much in my last letter?” Mulligan took a step towards him, slowly. “Did I say the wrong thing? Did I push too far?” Another step and another until he was standing right in front of Robert.

“Push too far towards what?”

“I thought you weren’t going to play stupid.”

“I’m not,” Robert snapped. “I know that you’re pushing but towards what I do not know.”

Mulligan stared at him for a long time and then shook his head. “I thought it was what you wanted to. And I’m usually a decent judge of that, but we’re all wrong every once in a while.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really? Then what did I do? What did I write? What did you hear? What is my crime?”

Robert looked away, unable to fight off the waves of emotions in his chest while looking at Hercules pleading with him. His head and his heart ached in tandem and he just wanted peace.

Mulligan would not let him have it, he took half a step and had a hand reaching for Robert, his mouth open to argue some more but Robert didn’t let him. He took a step forward, grabbed him by the sides of his face and smashed their mouths together in an uncomfortable approximation of a kiss. Hercules’s hand came up and held his arm tight, as if holding him in place while he kissed back.

As soon as Robert registered the feeling of the fingers digging into his arm gently and the soft push of Hercules trying to get closer he threw them apart, stumbling back and rubbing at his lips in hopes that it would take the tingling feeling away. “Is that what you wanted?”

Hercules stared at him for a long moment, dazed before he nodded. “But only if you want it too.”

Robert wanted to laugh or cry, but he wasn’t sure which. “And if I don’t?”

“I have no desire to be with someone who does not desire me in return,” Mulligan said, putting his hands up in surrender. Robert felt a flash of irritation though he couldn’t have said if it was at Mulligan or at himself.

At Mulligan for not recognizing that it wasn’t that Robert didn’t desire him but that he knew that Hercules did not feel the way he thought he did, not truly. And at himself for not being able to enjoy the temporary happiness while it lasted. Instead of saying so Robert stayed silent, staring slightly to the left of Mulligan’s shoulder.

Mulligan stared at him for a long time before nodding. “I should leave.”

Robert opened his mouth, unsure if it was to agree or disagree. Instead of either nothing came out.

Mulligan nodded once then walked out of the barn. Robert listened closely and heard the front door of the house open and shut again. For three deep breaths he controlled himself, kept himself still in the middle of the barn. On his forth exhale he broke, buried his fingers in his hair, squeezed his eyes shut, and let out a broken desperate sound from deep in his chest. Another shaky breath and he forced himself to relax, and then another and he opened his eyes.

He wouldn’t see Hercules again; the next hour was clear in his mind’s eye. He’d stay out in the barn for a few more minutes and then go pull water from the well and make sure it hadn’t frozen solid and then go collect more firewood. By the time he was back inside Hercules would have slipped past him to get his horse. They wouldn’t speak again. There’d be no more letters and Robert wouldn’t stop by the shop when he was in the city. There’d be no more distracting desire, there’d be no more friendship either. Robert would be alone again, as he’d wanted.

He lifted his head high with another deep breath. And just like that he told himself I’ve returned to sanity.

**

Samuel had not returned to sanity. By the time Robert returned to the house with an armful of wood Mulligan was gone and Samuel had settled into deep disappointment. Robert told himself that it was no matter, Samuel had spent a great deal of time disappointed in Robert for his lack of true friends.

The only difference was that this time it didn’t soften into sadness an hour later. This time Samuel’s disappointment was palpable in the house for days. He barely spoke to Robert, having decided that James the cat was a better companion than his human son.

On the eighth day of near silence Robert lost his nerve. “What would you have had me do?” he snapped over a silent breakfast.

“I would have liked for you to not act like a coward, afraid of his own shadow,” Samuel snapped back.

For half a beat Robert was taken aback. “Do you know what you’re talking about?”

“I have known what this was about since you were a child, barely ten years old and looking at Peter Robinson like he hung the moon,” Samuel said, anger still bright in his eyes.

“What about a fear of God?”

“God made you this way. You have no more control of your nature than you do the color of your eyes.”

“How can you presume to know that it was God and not the devil who planted these...feelings,” Robert said waving around his hand at the word “feelings”. It seemed too small of a word for the situation, yet also too large.

“Because the devil knows nothing of love. He may know everything of lust and temptation but not a thing of love,” Samuel said, voice firm and steady in his convictions.

“No one said anything about love,” Robert countered. He had only thought the word in regards to Hercules once, right on the edge of sleep only a few days after his second visit. Robert hadn’t allowed himself to revisit that thought.

“You didn’t,” Samuel said, taking a bite of his eggs.

Robert could barely hear himself ask “Did Hercules?” past the rushing of blood in his ears.

Samuel shook his head. “Hercules is a careful man who would never do anything to put you at risk.”

“Then why would you think,” Robert started but was unable to finish the sentence. To say it out loud was too much.

“Because I am your father and you are my son.” His voice softened and he reached across the table to hold Robert’s hand. “I recognize the look on you face when you stare at him and think no one is looking. I recognize it because it was on my face every time I looked at your mother. You can lie to Hercules, you can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me.” The silence of the house seemed louder after he spoke and Robert held tight to his hand.

“It’s more than that,” Robert whispered, filled to the brim with shame. He had to explain it all so that maybe his father would understand why it had to be this way. Or maybe Robert was looking to be talked into another path. He didn’t know anymore, everything inside of him was constantly conflicting and he couldn’t keep track anymore. “It should have just been that but it wasn’t.”

“Then what? Are you afraid he didn’t return your feelings?”

“He made it clear that he did but…” Robert swallowed, trying to keep his voice from cracking. “How long would that have lasted? He’s so bright and loud and enjoys parties and excitement and I’m…”

“You’re you. You prefers plain clothes and quiet evenings and would rather sit in silence with your cat than mingle at a party,” Samuel said plainly.

Robert deflated. “Exactly,” he said, his voice sounding broken even to his own ears.

“Sometimes,” Samuel started slowly, patting his son’s hand on the table. “we have to trust that someone else knows what they want. Sometimes when someone tells us that they accept us for who we are we have to believe them. Especially if that person has never tried to change us.”

Intellectually, Robert could admit that he was right; sometimes you had to trust people, but it didn’t seem to apply here. “I want him to be happy,” Robert said after a long silence. “And I don’t think I can make him happy.”

Samuel laughed quietly, somewhere between a scoff and a snort. “Then you haven’t been paying very good attention.”

Robert spent the next half an hour mulling over his options and the half hour after that readying himself and his horse to travel to the city.

It was near dark by the time he arrived. The street lamp had been lit and as he made his way down the street he saw Rivington’s lit bright and packed as it should be. He caught a glimpse of the man himself sitting at a table with three other men talking animatedly. It made his heart warm and ache at the same time, but he had other apologies to make that night so he continued on until he reached Mulligan’s shop. There was still some light coming from inside.

He dismounted, and tied the horse to a post, mumbling a quiet reassurance and telling it to be good for just a little while. Then he turned towards the door, straightened the jacket that Hercules had made for him, took a deep breath, and went inside.

The bell above the door rang and a young man looked over from where he was putting away a bolt of fabric. “Hello, sir. How can I help you?”

“Is Mr. Mulligan here?”

“Yes, I’ll get-”

“I’m here,” Hercules said as he came out of the back. There was a smile on his face but it was cold and distant. It was a shock compared to the last time he’d been in the shop. “How can we be of service, Mr. Townsend?”

Robert glanced at the stranger in the room and was tempted to abandon his plan, to throw up his hands and say he had tried. “I was hoping to discus the possibility of having a new jacket made for my father.”

“Didn’t he just get a new jacket?”

“Yes. But he wants another. For parties. As you know, I haven’t attended many parties and was hoping you could lend you expertise in both parties and fashion.” He knew it was absurd and was a little embarrassed; he used to be better at lying.

Something in Hercules’s face softened. “Ah. Well we were just closing for the night. I can talk to you about it over a drink, though.”

“I would appreciate that.”

Mulligan clapped the young man on the shoulder and they went about their routine while Robert stood awkwardly by the front door, feeling as if he should be helping.

Ten minutes later and the three of them stepped out into the night. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Thomas. Good work today,” Hercules said as he was locking the front door.

“Thank you, sir,” he said before disappearing down the street.

Hercules turned to Robert, no smile fake or otherwise. “I assume you’re not actually here about a party jacket for your father?”

“Am I that bad of a liar?” Robert asked, trying to get a smile out of Mulligan. It didn’t work.

“Yes. Not sure how you could be given how we met,” Hercules said, watching Robert carefully.

“Well no one asked me if I was a spy for the continental army,” Robert said with a shrug.

This time he did laugh. “Someone should have told Arnold that he didn’t need to snatch people off the street and lock them in Bridewell. He just needed to ask.”

Robert laughed and looked at the ground.

“Come on. We can talk at my house,” Hercules said with a smile. “The girls will be gone for hours yet at a baby shower. We’ll be able to speak freely.”

Robert nodded and untied his horse. They walked the handful of blocks in silence. Robert had no idea how or if he should try to break it. Every time he looked at Hercules, he’d look back like he was expecting something and Robert lost his nerve.

When they got to the house Hercules took him to the carriage house in the back, opening the door wide and with a smile. “Your friend is here to visit,” he said to his own horse, giving it an affectionate pat while Robert put his horse in the stall next to it.

They went back out and to the house proper. Hercules unlocked the door and lead Robert through the dark house to the kitchen. “Not that I don’t appreciate the effort of making the ride,” he said as he crouched by the stove and lit a candle from the small fire still burning inside, before he tossed another log in. “But why are you here?”

“My father thinks I’m a coward,” Robert said, frowning at himself because he’d planned a whole speech on the way there and that was not how it started.

Hercules looked at him for a moment before shaking his head and turning to the kitchen counter. “I didn’t tell him anything. Do you want a sandwich?”

“Please. Can I help?”

“No. I can manage two sandwiches on my own.” He looked up and smiled at Robert though. “As you were saying?”

“Yes. I know you didn’t say anything to him. Unfortunately he didn’t need to be told. I am...not as subtle as I thought I was,” Robert said.

“Have me plenty confused,” Mulligan said, slicing ham with an intense focus.

“I know. And I’m sorry.”

Hercules sighed and put down the knife. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“I do. I-”

“You made a choice. You don’t ha-”

“It was the wrong choice.”

Hercules finally turned around.

Robert sighed. “My father is right. I didn’t say no because I don’t want you because I do.”

“That I could tell. You said no because you think it’s wrong,” Hercules said, sounding strained. He hung his head and even in the dim candle light he looked tired. “That God would never forgive you.”

“Some...convincing arguments have been made regarding that. However that wasn’t the whole truth.”

“Oh?” Hercules turned around and went back to making the sandwiches.

“Yes,” Robert said preparing himself for the possibility that this would end in his humiliation.

Hercules took the two plates and set them on the small table off to the side of the kitchen. “We can sit in the dining room if you’d rather,” he said when Robert hadn’t moved to sit next to him. “But there’s no fire in there.”

Robert shook his head and sat, their knees bumped under the table. “No, no. This is perfectly nice.”

Hercules raised his eyebrows in a silent request for Robert to continue.

“The whole truth of the matter is that...I don’t want you to get board of me and I know that if you realize that there isn’t anything more than you’ve already found you will. I don’t like parties or meeting new people. And I will never move to the city again. You are bright and vibrant and beautiful and full of life in a way I never will be. I didn’t want to have you the way I wanted and then have you realize that I was not what you wanted.”

Hercules stared at him, frozen and eyes wide. When he swallowed the food in his mouth and looked as if he had regained his ability to speak Robert rushed to cut him off. “However, you never gave me a reason to doubt you or think that you were looking for some better version of me. You always accepted exactly who I was and it wasn’t fair for me to assume that you didn’t know what you wanted. So I came to the city, to you to ask if you still want...something from me even after what I said in the barn.”

Hercules took a deep breath and Robert’s stomach twisted hard. “I don’t know where to start. Have you ever spoken that much at once before?”

“No,” Robert said, getting a laugh out of Hercules. “And I don’t intend to do it again so I hope you were paying attention.”

“I was,” he said softly, the warmth back in his voice. Slowly, like he was still afraid of spooking Robert he took his hand. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” Robert said, squeezing Hercules’s hand as he stood and came around the table. Robert wondered if maybe he should have stood up but Hercules just cupped his jaw in his other hand and leaned down. This kiss was softer than the first, like a promise instead of an argument. Robert stretched up into it, trying to get it to last as long as possible.

They broke apart and Hercules smiled down at him, running his thumb over Robert’s cheekbone. Robert stretched up for another kiss and Hercules met him, this time with more heat and Robert reached up to run his fingers through Hercules’s hair.

The angle was uncomfortable so he stood without breaking the kiss, holding Hercules close to him.

Hercules wasn’t going anywhere though and instead backed Robert up against the wall, their kisses more intense as they let go of each other’s hands to explore anywhere they could reach. Hercules’s thigh was suddenly between Robert’s legs and elicited a frankly embarrassing noise out of him.

Hercules pulled back, but Robert held him close. “Sorry,” Hercules said, running his hands along Robert’s sides, under his jacket. “Should probably slow down.”

“Why?”

Hercules laughed loudly, crowding even closer and resting his forehead against Robert’s. They lapsed into silence and Robert wanted to kiss him again but restrained himself. Every so often Hercules would take a deep breath like he was about to say something and then let it go again. Finally he spoke. “Don’t change your mind again, Robert,” he whispered, his eyes shut. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to take it if you do.”

“I won’t,” Robert promised. “I’m not afraid anymore.”

Hercules looked up at him with a frown. “What we’re doing is dangerous. It’s understandable to be a little scared sometimes.”

Robert tuck a bit of hair behind his ear. “I wasn’t afraid of mobs coming for me in the night. Or God’s wrath. I was afraid of falling in love with you without you loving me back.”.

Hercules laughed. “Oh that ship sailed long ago.”

Robert’s heart gave a hard thud. “Oh?”

Hercules shrugged and tucked himself closer, this time so his face was hidden in Robert’s neck. “A few weeks before we found out about James printing the flag books,” he whispered. “I was at the cafe for a drink and James said some inane thing about some woman he’d dined with the night before and you gave me this look that said so much about what you thought of his story. It was like we could have had a whole silent conversation right there. And I realized I wanted you to keep making faces at me for as long as possible.”

Robert felt his face go even hotter and his throat close up. It seemed absurd that such a small moment, a moment that they’d probably shared a hundred times even before they knew they were both spies, would be the moment that Hercules would remember as the time he fell in love with Robert.

Robert kissed his cheek since it was the only part of him that he could reach with his face hidden. Hercules pulled back and kissed him properly again. He wasn’t sure what exactly to do with his hands since they were just holding awkwardly at Hercules’s sides to keep him close but then Hercules’s tongue was in his mouth and Robert wasn’t able to think about anything beyond wanting.

Distantly he was aware that his necktie was coming loose but it seemed unimportant. Then Hercules broke the kiss again to kiss his cheek and then jaw and then trail open mouthed kisses down his neck, moving aside his collar to get access to what he wanted, sucking and biting at his collarbone. A whine escaped Robert’s throat when he realized that there was going to be a mark and he very much wanted their to be a mark. He felt Hercules’s grin spread against his neck as they both paused for a second to catch their breaths.

“We don’t have to do this standing against a wall,” Hercules said smiling and peppering more kisses along Robert’s neck. “I have all sorts of furniture we can continue this on.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.” A kiss to the hinge of his jaw. “Like a couch.” A kiss to his cheek. “Or chairs.” A kiss to his chin. “A bed.” A kiss to his lips. “A chaise lounge.” A kiss to Robert’s other cheek.

“A bed?” Robert asked, pulling Hercules back for another lingering kiss.

“Yes. One I would very much like to see you in, if you’re amendable,” Hercules said with a smile.

Robert wasn’t sure how he got the words “lead the way” out because he was fairly certain all the air had been sucked out of not just his lungs but of the room.

Hercules smiled at him again but this time it was less warm and more hungry. He backed away from Robert and graciously ignored the low whine that Robert let out. He covered their long forgotten sandwiches with a tea towel, checked that the stove was firmly locked and picked up the candle with one hand, taking Robert’s in the other.

Gently, he pulled Robert through the empty house and up the stairs. The bedroom was large with a soft looking bed dominating the middle of the room. Hercules let go of his hand and shut the door softly behind them. Robert was lost for a moment while Hercules knelt by the fireplace and lit the fire with the candle.

In a burst of nerve he wasn’t quite sure of Robert sat on the end of the bed and unbuckled his shoes. He didn’t want to be presumptuous but he’d asked to be taken to bed and Mulligan had already undone his necktie so it couldn’t be that untoward.

He was lining them up by the corner of the bed carefully when Hercules turned back around, licking his lips. “Getting comfortable?”

“Is that alright?” Robert asked, hoping it came out more teasing and not as deeply unsure as he felt.

“It’s more than alright.” Hercules toed off his own shoes and shed his jacket on the way over to stand in front of Robert. Slowly, he put one hand on each shoulder and then one knee on each side of Robert’s hips until he was sitting in Robert’s lap.

Robert’s hands went to his hips automatically, slipping under the edge of his vest and feeling the warmth of Hercules through his shirt.

“Are you alright?”

Robert nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his throat.

“Can I take off your jacket?” he asked pushing the jacket lightly off of Robert’s shoulders. Robert nodded again and helped take it off, setting it aside carefully. His hands went back to Hercules’s hips holding tight.

“You should know,” he started quietly. “I’ve never…”

“Had sex with a man?” Hercules finished.

“With anyone.”

“Oh,” Hercules said, sounding out of breath as he licked his lips and blinked a few times. “We aren't going to do anything you don’t want to do. We can go s-”

“No,” Robert said, puling Hercules closer by his hips, both of them groaning at the friction it caused. “I want to I just thought you should know that I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Hercules kissed him softly. “You don’t need to. I’ll take of you,” he whispered into the kiss. “I’ll take such good care of you if you let me.”

Something buried deep in Robert cracked. “Please.”

*** Robert woke the next morning and nearly went back to sleep. It was warm and comfortable under the blankets and he felt content in a way he couldn’t remember ever feeling before. It might have had something to do with the fact that the sheets and pillows smelled of Hercules.

He was alone which wasn’t surprising. When he’d fallen asleep the night before Hercules had been curled up next to him with his head resting on Robert’s chest. He must have gotten up at some point to go back to his own room and wait for his wife to come home after Robert had fallen asleep.

He forced himself out of bed and got dressed. He hoped that Mrs. Mulligan was still asleep herself so that he could leave without facing her. He wasn’t worried about the cosmic ramification of what they had done last night but he didn’t want her to get suspicious since Robert seemed to have lost his ability to lie since leaving York City.

His heart sank as he left his room and heard voices coming from downstairs. He tired to be as quiet as he could but wasn’t quiet enough. Two women and Hercules appeared at the bottom of the stairs, all smiling at him. “Robert!” a woman with bright blonde hair that was stacked in curls on her head said.

“Hello,” he said awkwardly.

“I was going to bring you coffee. We didn’t wake you did we?” Hercules asked.

“No.”

“It’s so good to finally meet you. Hercules hasn’t stopped talking about you for months,” the first woman said, still smiling brightly. The other woman was watching him closely but wasn’t quite smiling or frowning, just assessing him.

“Minnie,” Hercules scolded, blushing a little.

“She’s right,” the second woman said, brunette with her hair in a bun on top of her head.

“Not you too, Franny.”

“I’m always going to take her side over yours,” she said, shaking her head. She turned and started down the corridor towards another room.

“Except for about the wallpaper I want to put in the drawing room,” Minnie said, following her.

Robert got to the bottom of the stairs and Hercules handed him a mug of coffee and quickly kissed him on the cheek. “Good morning. How did you sleep?”

“Very well, thank you.”

“Good,” he said leaning in close. “I was worried I woke you when I got dressed.”

Robert shook his head, trying to stay calm and restrained even with Hercules so temptingly close. “It’s a very comfortable bed.”

Hercules hummed. “Of course. It has nothing to do with what we did in that bed before we fell asleep,” he whispered directly into Robert’s ear, making him shiver.

Robert glared at him and wanted to kiss him but was stopped short by Minnie’s head popping out of the doorway down the hall. “Boys, breakfast,” she said impatiently.

“We’re coming,” Hercules said, taking Robert’s hand and leading him to the dining room. “I need to talk to you about Miriam and Franny.”

“I understand,” Robert said as they entered.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“Shush, Hercules,” Minnie said as Robert and Hercules sat next to each other, Robert across from Franny and Hercules across from Minnie. “You get to talk to him all the time. I want to get to know the man my husband is so smitten with.”

Robert choked on his coffee, nearly spitting it all over himself.

“What?” Minnie asked.

“I haven’t had time to explain our arrangement,” Hercules explained.

“Oh,” Minnie said quietly. “A very long story, cut very short: Hercules and I are in a loveless marriage because I’m quiet in love with Franny and I am not a man so he can’t love me.”

“I love you the way I love all my friends,” Hercules chimed in.

“So glad I can be sorted into the same category as James Rivington,” she said with a laugh.

“Not exactly the same category.”

Robert turned to Hercules. “Really? James?”

“It was before I met you.”

“I’m not jealous of James just surprised.”

“Of course you’re not jealous. You’re much more handsome than James,” Minnie said.

“I’m telling James you said that,” Hercules said with a laugh.

“If I recall the New Years party correctly James would agree,” Franny said.

“James is a big fan of yours,” Minnie said as the clock in the hall started to chime seven. Hercules stood up, shoving a piece of toast in his mouth.

“Yes, it wouldn’t do to be late the morning after a handsome stranger shows up to the shop just as you’re closing,” Minnie said with a laugh.

Hercules waved a hand at her as he leaned down and gave Robert a firm kiss. “I love you. Will you be here tonight?”

“No. I need to go back to Oyster Bay.”

“Very well. I’ll check the schedule to see when I can visit next.”

“I look forward to it.” He shot a look at the two woman who were watching them but pointedly turned away to stare at the fire when they realized they’d been caught. He pulled Hercules down for one more kiss. “I love you too,” he whispered against his lips.

Hercules’s answering smile could have lit the whole world before he dashed out the door.

The three of them sat in silence until the front door shut again and then Minnie turned to Robert, her stare harder than it had been before.

“Hercules says you’re quite intelligent so I’ll assume that you know who my father is, and what kind of people I have spent my whole life associating with,” Minnie said, her voice hard and cold. Robert could guess what kind of people she was referencing. “Hercules is my very best friend in the world and I love him very much. If you break his heart again one of those people will pay you a visit.

“I understand. I won’t.”

Franny spoke next. “I hope so. Because if not, it will not be your father who is beaten and it will not just be your barn that is burned. I don’t enjoy sitting with my friend while he cries because he thinks he did something wrong by falling in love with the wrong person.”

Robert looked at them both seriously and nodded. “I understand.”

“Good,” Minnie said, her face brightening up again. “Now let’s enjoy our breakfast before we have to get you a lunch packed up and back on your way to Oyster Bay, shall we? Hercules tells us you got into quite a lively debate about poetry. Tell us, who is your favorite poet?”

Ben turned around when Caleb came through the kitchen door. “Good afternoon,” Ben said, turning back to the pan. Caleb smiled as he came up behind him, hoping that the coffee was for him.

Ben handed him the cup and Caleb couldn’t help himself. He leaned in close and whispered “Thank you,” before he went back to the table to wait for breakfast. Or lunch. Whatever meal it was the Ben was making for him.

Ben coughed loudly. “Um. You’re welcome.”

Caleb curled around his coffee and ignored Ben’s weird tone. He rubbed at his temples and closed his eyes, only opening them when he heard the dishes rattle as Ben got them from the cupboard. Caleb turned to watch him, wishing that he could wrap his arms around Ben’s waist and bury his face in his chest just for a few minutes. He was sure that would cure his hangover.

Ben set the plate of food down in front of him but instead of immediately going to the other side of the table where he usually sat, he lingered long enough to lean down and kiss the top of Caleb’s head.

“Did you just kiss the top o’ my head?” Caleb asked after a moment of shock passed. It had been long enough that Ben was already sitting across from him and eating.

Ben shrugged but his face was bright red and he wouldn't look away from his own plate.

“Okay. Is that a thing we do now?”

Ben shrugged again. “You started it.”

Caleb opened his mouth to argue until he remembered not ten minutes ago kissing Ben on the cheek. He hadn’t even realized he’d done it, not really. What it meant certainly hadn’t hit him until just then. Caleb nodded. His headache was quickly fading and he couldn’t quite tamp down on the hope bubbling up in his chest. “That mean I get to kiss you other places too?”

Ben looked up at him through his lashes. “That’s really up to you, Brewster.”

“Yeah?” Caleb asked as he pushed his plate to the side. He saw Ben clock the movement so he couldn’t have been too surprised when Caleb leaned over the table and kissed him square on the lips, though he gasped all the same.

Ben leaned up into the kiss for just a second before they both pulled back. “Yes. Now eat before it goes cold.”

Ben froze, the cup halfway back up to his mouth as he stared, wide-eyed at Caleb. “What?” 

“You said pretty clearly. 'I love you.' And since I’m the only one in the room and you weren’t talking to your coffee.” Caleb uncrossed his arms and made a motion with his hands like he was presenting something to Ben. 

“I could have been talking to myself,” Ben pointed out. He was panicking and Caleb was laughing. Though he seemed to be laughing more at Ben’s panicked reaction than he was to what Ben had let slip out. 

“’course,” Caleb said, turning back to the pan and taking it off the heat. “Grab plates, will ya?” 

Ben set down his coffee and did what he was asked, like he did every morning. Maybe they could just skate past this and everything would return to normal. They could continue to be just two friends who lived together, one who made breakfast and one who made dinner. The thought made him irrationally upset. 

They sat across from each other but Ben didn’t eat, he was too busy staring at Caleb. 

“What now?” 

Ben looked at his plate and picked at it without eating. “If I said I wasn’t talking to myself and I wasn’t talking to the coffee, what would you say?” 

“I ain’t answering that.” 

Ben flushed and his voice was thick when he said “Oh.” 

“You have something to say you say it. For real. I ain’t wait five years for half measures.” 

Ben looked up and Caleb was staring at him, chewing his breakfast and waiting. He looked tired and anxious and a little bit irritated the way he did whenever Ben was beating around the bush too long. Ben was suddenly tired of waiting too. “I love you, Caleb Brewster. For better or for worse I’m in love with you.”