Phillip didn’t have to see Phineas to know that he was grinning. He groaned.

“What sort of surprise has a geographical location?” he muttered.

“Only the best.”

“You’ve already given me a new house.”

“‘Us,’ darling. I’ve given us a new house.” Phillip could hear the grin in his voice now. “That wasn’t a surprise so much as it was a necessity. I had to get you away from those wretched parents of yours, didn’t I?”

Phillip sighed again. “Phine— ow!” He ran straight into something solid, stubbing his toe, and immediately felt Phineas’s hands on him again, steadying his balance.

“Sorry, sorry. That was my bad, I got a bit... carried away. Up you go, now.”

“Up?” Phillip echoed.

“Yes. They’re called stairs, dear Phillip. Quite the helpful platform for going up and— hey!”

Phineas broke off in a laugh as Phillip turned and swatted at him, missing wildly. He didn’t even catch the older man’s coat, something Phineas insisted they both wore despite the fact that they were evidently indoors, and Phillip was beginning to get a little warm around the collar.

“Humph,” Phineas pouted in mock-annoyance, “Fine, then. I guess I’ll just leave you to climb these stairs by yourself.”

Phillip gasped and made a wild grab for him, this time latching onto and clutching his arm. “No!”

He could practically picture Phineas tapping his chin, pretending to think about it. “I don’t know—“

“Phineas, I’ll fall!”

This time, the older man chuckled and Phillip was wrapped into an invisible, strong embrace as Phineas kissed his forehead. “You know I wouldn’t let that happen.” He pulled away, this time taking hold of Phillip’s hand.  He gave it a gentle squeeze. “Now, up you get.”

Phillip clutched to Phineas for dear life as they began the slow ascend up the stairs. At first, it felt like he was walking a tightrope, but that was ridiculous. At least Anne and W.D. could see while they were up in the air.

When his feet touched solid ground that stretched out in front of him, he nearly wept with relief.

They walked for a short while down what seemed to be a hallway with no twists or turns. Finally, Phineas stopped them.

“Ah, here we are.”

A moment went by, nothing happened. Then Phillip heard a soft jangle and the sound of a knob unlocking, turning. Opening.

He gasped when the cold air hit him.

“You can take the blindfold off now, darling.”

Phillip opened his mouth to reply, but his teeth had started to chatter. Phineas chuckled, and then Phillip felt warm hands undoing the knot at the back of his head.

He gasped again once he could see.

They stood upon a rooftop overlooking New York. The city stretched on before them as Phillip gaped in wide-eyed wonder. Around them, snowflakes fluttered and fell from the sky. The stars seemed the brightest they’d ever been and he tilted his head back, lips parting just slightly, for any sight of constellations.

He turned when he felt the hand on the back of his neck, and looked up at Phineas. Phineas, who was looking down at him, awaiting his reaction.

“It’s beautiful,” Phillip mumbled. Though his fingers were already growing cold, he reached up and threaded them through Phineas’s hair, pulling him close. His lips just barely brushed against Phineas’s as he mumbled, “How did you find this place?”

Phineas’s eyes were sad and loving. He stepped back, cradling Phillip’s cheek in his hand as he spoke. “Charity and I used to live in this building. We would dance up here, for hours it seemed, until we couldn’t dance anymore.” His smile was small and sad.

“Oh, Phin...”

Phineas cleared his throat. “She would love to know that I’ve brought somebody else up here. I wish you could have met her.”

Phillip took Phineas’s hand and gently squeezed. “I would have loved to.”

Phineas nodded and cleared his throat again. Phillip thought he saw tears in his eyes. “Would you like to dance, darling?”

A small smile tugged at Phillip’s lip and he rose his hand, cupping Phineas’s cheek in his palm. “It would be an honor.”

So Phineas took him by the hand and they fell into a slow, swaying rhythm. Phillip was a little cold, but the combination of his coat (he understood the purpose now) and Phineas’s warmth kept the temperature bearable.

He was comfortable in their slow dance, just beginning to relax and lean into Phineas, when Phineas twirled him. The older man let out a laugh at his startled cry and pulled him ever closer, their noses brushing as they kissed.

“Charity and I, we used to run around this rooftop and dance from end to end. I’d do the same now, but — well, most of the times we came up here, we didn’t have an ice issue.”

Phillip’s eyes widened and he peered around Phineas, eyeing the roof’s edge. “Don’t let me fall, Phin.”

“Never in a million years,” Phineas whispered, voice gruff. This time, when Phillip looked up, Phineas didn’t bother to hide the tears that started to roll down his cheeks.

Phillip rose up on tiptoe, pressing his lips to a tear streak. “I love you, Phineas.”

Phineas smiled sadly. Then he dipped Phillip low, muffling his startled gasp with a deep kiss, winding an arm around Phillip to keep him steady. When they straightened, Phineas broke the kiss and pressed his lips to the corner of Phillip’s mouth.

“Merry Christmas, dear Phillip.”

Phineas didn’t mean to snoop. He had meant to clean — a rarity that usually only occurred after Phillip nagged his ear off. Phillip would sigh and, with a roll of his eyes, claim that Phineas’s two little daughters, neither of them yet of double digit age, tidied up better than he did. And complained less about it, too.

But Phillip was away, dragged off to some gala by his parents in an attempt to “return him to the upper class.” He probably wouldn’t be back until the next day — he usually came back early from such events after bickering with his parents, but this particular gathering was hosted by a family across the state, and if Phillip wanted to leave early he would have to find a hotel to stay overnight. He wouldn’t be back until evening tomorrow, or late afternoon if he set off early enough.

So, because Phillip was away and no doubt having a miserable time, Phineas decided he would surprise him by cleaning the whole house — or, most of it. He could probably stand to skip a few rooms that Phillip didn’t go into. He knew that his “cleanliness standards” weren’t quite as on par with Phillip’s, but he hoped that Phillip would be so surprised and overjoyed by the simple fact that Phineas had cleaned that he would be willing to overlook a few forgotten specks of dust. 

But when Phineas decided to clean the whole 

(most of the)

(half of the)

house, he did not expect to find himself wrist-deep in some secret compartment in Phillip’s room.

All right, so the bedroom wasn’t exactly Phillip’s. Technically, it was a guest bedroom and the two slept together in Phineas’s master suite. But Phillip would duck into this second bedroom whenever Phineas’s girls spent the night and Phillip thought it best to sleep in separate beds. And, despite only being used on occasional weekends and holidays, the room had little traces of Phillip all over it — one of his combs on the dresser, a jacket and tie slung over the bed frame, and a pair of his socks in the corner, left forgotten as he packed for his overnight visit. 

These little traces of untidiness made Phineas’s lip twitch into a smirk. He chuckled as he picked up the bundled pair of socks and tossed them in the hallway to join his own pile of dirty clothing. He would take them downstairs to be washed upon making his way to the ground floor. 

He was on his hands and knees, attempting to sweep dust out from underneath the bed (how did Phillip do this?) when his thumb caught on something and he cursed, yanking his hand back. A small drop of blood was already rising against his skin, and he cursed again under his breath as he stuck his thumb in his mouth. Once satisfied that the bleeding had stopped, he carefully poked his head under the bed once more to see what had nicked him. 

A nail stuck up from an uneven floorboard and, curiosity getting the best of him, Phineas quickly realized the floorboard was loose. Lifting the wooden plank took no effort at all, and Phineas found himself wrist deep in a secret compartment he was unaware of in his own home.

The hole was small, but surprisingly deep, and Phineas’s fingers brushed against... something.

The man’s heart leapt in his throat until he realized that the questionable object was not furry. Not a rat, then. He let out a silent sigh of relief as he curled his fingers around the object and lifted it out from underneath the bed.

A journal.

The book was bound in brown leather, not yet dulled by the elements of time. The pages looked crisp and white, though many appeared creased and dog-eared, as if somebody had gone back and visited certain pages a number of times before.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Phineas flipped to a random page — one, he noted, that was dog-eared. It was dated three weeks ago and he immediately recognized the familiar cursive lettering, written by only Phillip’s neat hand.

Phineas began to read.

 "I had the dream again last night. It's been months since the last time, but I hesitate to mention it to Phineas since he always looks vaguely unsettled whenever he hears the word "pirate.” The start is always the same -- I am in a ship's cabin, curled up on the bunk. Some interminable time later, hinges creak as an imposing figure fills the doorway, face hidden in dark shadows, the crimson late afternoon sunlight against his back. With the sort of expository omniscience that only works in dreams, I know that he is my captain and that what is to follow has played out many times before. That does not in way diminish the anticipation, however.

He sheds his claret velvet coat first, then the ornately embroidered black waistcoat is shrugged off broad shoulders to reveal the ivory silk shirt underneath. The fabric is thin and clings to his strongly muscled arms and chest, drawstrings already pulled loose so that the deep v reveals just a glimpse of rippling abdomen. His skin glints golden in the light of the setting sun, his head is crowned wih chestnut waves limned in halcyon glory. 

Time speeds up again and he has reached the bed, his movements lithe and the glint in his amber eyes almost predatory. It's a gaze that leaves me unable to resist, rendered immobile by its warm, beckoning depths. He is on me in another moment and his lips taste of sea spray and rum. He reaches down...."

When he stopped reading, Phineas realized his face was red and hot. He swallowed, throat dry, Phillip’s face flashing in his mind.

Though the incident with the pirates had been a long while ago, the memory was still fresh in Phineas’s mind. He never would have guessed that the ship, the men that had beaten and shot at them, would have had this effect on Phillip. He tried to think back, try to recall any night that Phillip had acted out of sorts after waking or going to bed.

Phineas still sat on the ground and he shifted, realizing that his trousers had gotten uncomfortably tight. The journal still laid open in his lap and his gaze trailed down, scanning the lettering once more.

He is on me in another moment.

Slowly, his shock faded and a smirk curled at Phineas’s lip. He grunted, shifting his weight, hand falling into his lap. Circling a thumb over his rising erection, Phineas thought of Phillip once more and snickered.

Well, he thought, standing to go and properly relieve himself, if it was a show Phillip wanted, it was a show Phillip would get.

***

The sun was just beginning to set, painting the sky a sea of oranges and reds, when the sound of hoofbeats along the dirt road announced Phillip’s return the next evening. He was positively exhausted, physically and emotionally, after another unsuccessful attempt to get along with his parents, and he’d barely slept the night before, in an unfamiliar hotel room with no Phineas to curl into.

Vaguely, he registered that Phineas hadn’t come out to greet him, but his mind was too tired and foggy to care. He briefly debated leaving his luggage outside and dealing with it in the morning, but he shook his head, feeling ridiculous — it was only one bag. 

Inside the mansion, the rooms were dark and empty. It looked like Phineas wasn’t home at all and at this Phillip became more attentive. Of course, he had no way of letting Phineas know the exact minute he’d be home, but... where was he? 

Slightly dejected at having nobody to greet him coming home, Phillip sighed and took his singular suitcase upstairs. He threw it in the spare bedroom, deciding to unpack later, and went down the hall to the bedroom he shared with Phineas. Even without the ringmaster here, at least he’d be able to fall asleep in the comfort of their own sheets. 

Time passed in a blur as Phillip stripped, removing his jacket and his belt and his shoes, the rest of his clothing following suit, and slipped into one of Phineas’s nightshirts. He relaxed at once with the familiarity of Phineas’s scent wrapping around him like an embrace, and sank into the large bed, pulling the sheets up to his chin.

He thought he was dreaming when the door creaked open, a figure stood at the doorway. Inwardly, Phillip’s heart leapt in his throat.

The dream. It was happening again.

But this time Phillip was... aware. 

The light from a setting sun set his hair aglow with orangey-red. Phillip’s breath caught in his throat as the man — the captain — stepped closer. The outfit he wore was familiar, Phillip having seen it in his dreams a number of times before. Neither of them spoke as Phineas shed his velvet coat first, and then the waistcoat, revealing the fine ivory shirt that was as familiar as any of Phillip’s own clothing. Phillip had this dream more than enough times before and could recite each scene as it unfolded, like a bedtime prayer.

But, a voice whispered at the back of Phillip’s mind. Despite the near-perfect recreation of the dream from nights past, something was... off.

Beyond the sound of Phillip’s own heart thudding in his ears, he vaguely registered that he could feel no sway of the ship from the waves underneath his bed. He could not smell the saltiness of ocean water in air, and the timing was off. It was early or mid-evening, not late afternoon as before. 

And then—

“Phillip,” the man before him whispered.

Alarm bells exploded in Phillip’s head.

The captain never spoke upon first entering his room. During or afterward, sure — but never before.

Phillip’s eyes rose to meet Phineas’s. He saw the playful gleam behind the seduction, saw the way the man’s lip curled into a smirk as Phillip looked at him just a little too long.

“Phineas!” he gasped, incredulous.

This was no dream.

Phillip crawled out from underneath the covers. Phineas’s nightshirt bunching up around his thighs as he sat on his knees and stared up at the... captain. Phineas didn’t bother to hide his pleasure as his eyes roamed over Phillip’s body, and he hummed in delight.

“Is that my nightshirt?” he chuckled.

“Phineas, how did you—“

The words died in Phillip’s throat as his eyes widened and his face drained of color. Horrified, his gaze flicked up to Phineas’s face.

“You didn’t!” he exclaimed.

“Hmmm?” Phineas tried to play innocent, but that damned smirk gave him away.

“Oh, no,” Phillip moaned.

Phineas chuckled again. “In my defense, I truly did not mean to stumble across your little... stories. I was cleaning, and—“

“You were cleaning?” Phillip gasped.

Phineas scowled. “Couldn’t you tell?”

Phillip was silent. His face still flamed red hot and he covered his eyes.

God. He couldn’t believe Phineas found his journal. That Phineas read it. He wondered just how much the man had seen...

A hand on his chest pushed him back on the bed and Phineas was on him, kissing his lips, kissing his neck. It took a moment for Phillip, stunned, to respond, but then he whimpered, overtaken by Phineas’s scent and hands and lips. Distantly, he smelt rum and sea foam — he wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him or if Phineas had gone those extra steps to be “in character.”

Another gasp escaped Phillip’s lips as Phineas reached down, and suddenly the younger man became aware of just how vulnerable he was. He laid in their bed — though, at the moment it felt very much like a ship’s bunk — in nothing but one of Phineas’s own nightshirts that left much of his hot, gleaming skin exposed. Phineas was still mostly clothed, save for the velvet coat and waistcoat that laid discarded somewhere on the floor. Muscles rippled underneath the thin, ivory shirt Phineas still wore, and Phillip ached to trace every inch of the captain’s skin like a map of stars.

Phineas’s hand crept up the inside of Phillip’s bare thigh, toying along the soft skin. He snickered. “Look at you. Legs spread open like a whore.”

As Phineas’s hand closed around his hardening cock, Phillip moaned. “O-Only for you, Captain.” 

The name slipped out on impulse as Phillip lost himself in the familiar fantasy. He froze and his gaze flickered to Phineas, who knelt over him, one hand still slipped underneath the nightshirt. His eyes widened for a moment, almost as surprised as Phillip, and then darkened. The hand on Phillip’s cock withdrew, slipping out from underneath the nightshirt. Phillip whimpered as Phineas stood and pulled him up. Now, Phineas stood looking down at Phillip, who sat on the edge of the bed, breathing deep, cock hard, head bowed.

Through his lowered eyelashes, Phillip watched as Phineas’s hands toyed with his belt. Excitement thrummed through Phillip’s body as the captain watched him with a smirk, no doubt knowing exactly the kind of thoughts running through Phillip’s head. Phillip watched, licking his lower lip as Phineas pulled the belt loose. Their eyes met as the belt came off and Phineas unbuttoned his trousers.

Lifting an eyebrow, the captain commanded, “On your knees, cabin boy.”

Phillip’s mouth fell open in a moan and a low, “Fuck.”

“Damned mouth of a sailor,” the captain muttered. 

Phillip came close to protesting, but the captain’s sharp look, amber eyes dark with intent, had him scrambling to the floor 

(like a harlot)

instead. He looked up at Phineas from his knees, expecting to see a trace of familiar warmth in whiskey-colored eyes, and found the very sea captain from his dreams staring down at him in his place.

Phineas radiated possession and power as his trousers lowered, his cock demanding attention. Phillip whimpered again, softly, nearly dizzy with desire and disbelief that his fantasy was real and actually being played out. He almost forgot that it was a result of Phineas’s snooping.

“Get to work,” the captain snapped.

Phillip had been in this position a countless amount of times before, but now, with sea captain instead of ringmaster waiting for him, he felt closed in and very, very warm. He was hyper aware of the heat radiating from himself and from the captain, and his mouth felt suddenly dry.

But one more look up at Phineas took Phillip’s breath away and, slowly, his body relaxed. He leaned forward, kissing his lips to the smooth head of the captain’s cock.

Above him, Phineas sighed and shifted. Captain persona momentarily forgotten.

Using one hand to grip the man’s hip, Phillip slowly took more in. The familiar thickness and musky scents were comforting and Phillip relaxed further, falling into the familiar routine. He sucked eagerly, but slowly, savoring Phineas’s taste.

“Faster,” came the captain’s sharp order.

Phillip hummed, the best he could do with Phineas’s cock in his mouth, and closed his eyes as he applied more suction, sucking faster and harder and deeper. He gripped the captain’s hips, fingernails leaving little crescent-shaped marks in their wake, and took Phineas for all he was worth, until the tickling of his gag reflex forced him to slowly back off.

“Fuck,” the man above him hissed.

Then he felt the hand in his hair, then both hands, and he made a strangled noise as they tugged at his hair, abusing the strands. Phillip’s eyes snapped open as the captain gave a particularly hard yank, and the resulting moan ripped from his throat with such force that he had to pull away from the captain’s cock, leaving it wet and red and gleaming.

“Phin—“ he coughed.

A rough yank of his hair and a light, sharp slap across his face had Phillip correcting himself as he gasped.

“C-Captain!”

The captain smirked. His eyes flicked over to the bed, and then to Phillip. The younger man’s nightshirt was rumpled, much too big for him, and drenched in sweat.

“Undress, sailor.”

Phillip’s limbs trembled as he got to his feet and pulled Phineas’s nightshirt up over his head. The captain’s eyes darkened as they roamed over him, and he squirmed under the intense gaze.

“Mmm. Wait here.”

Phillip watched with wide eyes as the captain pulled up his trousers, acting as if his cock didn’t literally ache to be released, and swiftly left the room. Phillip was left alone, undressed and aching and with a thudding heart. He sat on the edge of the bed and attempted to breathe evenly.

At first, when the captain came back with red ribbons in hand, Phillip didn’t gauge the meaning. He looked up into Phineas’s eyes.

The familiar smirk returned. “You mentioned ropes in your writing, but I thought ribbons might be smoother on that delicate skin of yours.”

Phillip gaped at him. His mind raced, realizing what the words meant.

The captain approached with slow, sturdy steps. He pushed Phillip back down — Phillip made no attempt to fight back — and made quick work of tying him up, bringing his wrists up over his head. Phillip moaned and whined and whimpered. He didn’t even have exposed skin to press up against. Phineas knew this, the entire reason why he’d stayed dressed, and it drove Phillip wild.

The captain knotted the ribbons as tightly as they could be tied without causing Phillip pain. Phillip, mortified and nude and horribly aroused, watched as the captain stood back and observed him, fully clothed once more.

“Cap— Cap’n, please—“

The captain snickered, and, once satisfied that Phillip could not reach him, finally began to undress. The belt came undone for a second time, and he shrugged out of the thin white shirt, finally baring a beautifully sculpted chest. He  stepped out of his trousers and undergarments, tossing them carelessly to the floor. 

Phillip’s lips formed verbal pleas before he could stop himself. The captain was pure power and muscle and solid art and Phillip craved every inch of him. He whimpered and pulled at his restraints.

“Please,” he whispered. “Please.”

Along with the ribbons, the captain brought in a small jar of oil which he now twisted open and dipped his fingers into. Phillip whimpered again and pulled at his restraints again, spreading his legs as far as they would go. His cock stood to attention and his body yearned to be touched, knowing the pleasure that just fingers alone would bring him. 

“Such a little whore.” The captain shook his head. He bit his lip in an attempt to hide his smirk. “How many travels have you been on, boy? How many seamen have you spread open for?”

Phillip’s cock twitched and, having nothing to grab or hold onto, he balled his hands into fists. “Only you, my c-captain. Only you.”

He could not tear his eyes from the captain’s hand, glistening wet with oil. His body sang for it. 

Seeming satisfied with Phillip’s answer, the captain’s lip finally curled into that familiar smirk. He came to the bed and knelt in front of Phillip’s spread legs, the younger’s hips rising in eager anticipation.

“Please,” he begged again, over and over, “Please.”

The first brush of the captain’s fingers, wet with oil, had Phillip whimpering and straining to press closer. The captain’s amber eyes bore into his as he took his time pressing his finger to Phillip’s hole, then pressing in. One, then two. Phillip gasped, begged for more.

“So needy,” the captain patronized, even he pushed in a third finger. But, Phillip didn’t miss the catch in his voice, the excitement. Phineas wanted this as much as Phillip did and the thought made Phillip feel smug, even as he greedily moaned.

Phineas’s long fingers were rough and calloused from years of hard labor on the railroad, and it didn’t take much to imagine the scarred hands of a rugged sea captain were the ones that fucked into him. Phillip clenched tight around those fingers as he closed his eyes, pleased to hear the resulting low moan from the captain. 

Suddenly daring, Phillip opened his eyes and opened his mouth to gloat. But rough, soft lips pressed against his instead, and he sighed deep into the kiss. Lips warm and slightly chapped, the captain worked his tongue into Phillip’s eager mouth as his fingers worked Phillip’s equally eager body.

As they pulled back for air, Phillip sighed, “Phineas.”

“Captain,” Phineas growled. He thrust his fingers in particularly hard and Phillip gasped again, jerking upward. 

“Captain,” Phillip obediently repeated, pressing his head into the pillow as he arched his neck. The captain groaned low in approval as he dipped his head, teeth grazing along Phillip’s neck. His teeth nicked as he bit down and Phillip moaned, loudly. He could feel the captain’s smirk against his skin. 

Lips pressed to Phillip’s pulse point as the captain curled his fingers. Phillip cried out as fingertips lightly brushed against something inside him, heart rate jumping, and Phineas grinned against his pulse. In an action much too gentle for a pirate, Phineas kissed Phillip’s neck as he slowly pulled out his fingers. 

Phillip whimpered and instinctively clenched around nothing. He looked up at Phineas with wide eyes, bright and nearly brimming with tears.

“Don’t give me that face,” the captain chided. He stood and, using the same hand that had been inside Phillip moments earlier, coated his own cock with oil. He jerked himself lazily, slowly, smirking as Phillip watched. 

Phillip’s body reacted from both ends, saliva filling his mouth and hole twitching in anticipation. He licked his lips and pulled at his restraints, frustrated, a tear rolling down his cheek. His face flamed with color, though he wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment, arousal, or both.

He couldn’t remember ever crying in his dreams. Somehow, Phineas — his Phineas, his captain — drove him more wild than the man in his dreams ever could. 

If he could reach out to the man, he would. He no longer cared how he looked, he no longer cared how much he begged. Squirming on the bed, he pleaded, “Please, Captain. Have me. Take me.”

He watched as the captain’s eyes widened, then darkened. Hand falling from his cock, the captain climbed onto the bed and crawled over him. Wrapping Phillip’s legs around his waist, he claimed Phillip’s lips in another kiss, rougher than the last, tugging at Phillip’s lower lip. He relished in the sounds Phillip made as he moaned into his mouth. 

“Please, sir,” Phillip whispered in between a breath for air. He couldn’t wait anymore.

Phillip whimpered when the captain’s cock brushed against his ass, the tip teasing his hole. The captain pulled away from the kiss, breaking it for good, to grip his cock and slowly guide it into Phillip.

Phillip moaned, loud, louder, his heels digging into the captain’s backside, as the man entered him. Finally, finally. His fingers twitched, arms aching to wrap around Phineas, and his legs clung as tight as they could, guiding the captain as he drove into him. 

In his captain persona, Phineas wasn’t as liberal with the oil as he would have been otherwise, and, though he hadn’t noticed before, Phillip could feel it. He moaned at the new burn, the new pull, the new stretch, just enough to recognize the difference in a lot of lube versus a little without physically hurting him. The feel of Phineas’s cock, smooth and curved and so deliciously his, had Phillip attempting to bear down on it and ride Phineas for all he was worth.

The captain’s pace was fast and wicked, each new caress of his cock hitting Phillip almost before he had a chance to react to the one previous. Phillip moaned, whined, called out to the man above him — every time his tongue slipped and called out Phineas instead of Captain, the captain delivered a light, but stinging slap to his cheek. It brought tears to Phillip’s eyes more than once — not from pain, but sheer arousal — and he moaned out his correction.

The bed rocked underneath the captain’s force, and the captain groaned, pressing his forehead to Phillip’s. Their kiss was sloppy and bruising, the captain biting Phillip’s lip again and swallowing his moan. All Phillip could do was moan, legs wound tight around the captain, eyes brimming with fresh tears that threatened to spill over.

The captain’s voice was rough in Phillip’s ear, telling Phillip how tight he was, how hot, how good. Every last nerve in Phillip’s body felt like it was on fire, and when the captain stopped the bruising pace, Phillip had to swallow a broken scream.

Phillip’s mouth was ready with protests as the captain, panting, moved up to untie Phillip’s ribbons. Phillip gasped, and then moaned as his wrists were finally freed, his hands immediately moving to dig into the captain’s back.

Grunting, the captain resumed his ministrations, maneuvering Phillip’s hips to fuck deeper into him, faster. Phillip had to concentrate on remembering to breathe, fingers more like claws as they scratched down the man’s back. His hands were everywhere at once, as if making up for lost time, painting Phineas’s back like a canvas. 

When the captain’s hand lowered, taking hold of Phillip’s cock, Phillip screamed out. “Ph-Ph-Phineas!”

The captain did not correct him as he spilled all over their chests.

Gasping, almost struggling to force air into his lungs, Phillip’s head fell back against the bed frame. The captain paused for the briefest moment, allowing Phillip to properly come and suck in a mouthful of air, but quickly picked up his pace just as before. He was grunting now, head bowed low, eyes squeezed shut. Phillip knew he was close.

Moaning still as the captain fucked inside him, Phillip grabbed the captain’s hands and loosely twined their fingers together. He panted and moaned as the captain squeezed his hands in an almost perfect rhythm.

The captain’s hips beginning to stutter, a high moan broke from Phillip’s lips. He clenched tight around Phineas’s cock, held him tight with his legs, and watched in utter rapture as the man’s face contorted. 

The captain’s moan was broken by a string of curses as he slammed into his orgasm. Panting, he squeezed Phillip’s hands and buried his face in Phillip’s neck, inhaling sweat and sex.

“Fuck,” he groaned.

As his hips stilled and he laid limp inside Phillip, Phillip kissed his sweaty brow. He looked up, hardened face of the captain immediately melting away into Phineas’s familiar loving gaze.

“Are you all right?” Phineas asked, voice husky. Shifting, he slowly pulled out of Phillip and rolled away, their chests a mess of Phillip’s come. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“No,” Phillip breathed. It took a moment to collect himself, but then he swore, “That was incredible, Phineas... you are incredible.”

Phineas smiled — though it looked suspiciously like a smirk. “Welcome home.”

 “God.” Somehow, Phillip found enough energy to press his hands over his eyes. “I can’t believe you—“

Phineas’s deep chuckle interrupted him, and he sighed as Phineas kissed his flushed cheek.

“You know,” Phineas mused, running a hand through Phillip’s terribly messy hair, “I still have quite a lot of material to go through...”

Phillip’s eyes widened and he shot up, meeting Phineas’s stupidly amused gaze. “You wouldn’t.”

“Are you complaining?” Phineas smirked.

Phillip groaned and flopped back against the pillows. He lifted his eyes as Phineas loomed over him.

“I didn’t hear a ‘yes,’” Phineas mumbled, before catching Phillip’s lips in a soft, languid kiss.

Phillip sighed as they broke apart. Eyelids suddenly heavy, he smiled up at Phineas.

“Whatever you want,” he promised, sleep coating his voice. “I just have one question...”

“Hmmm?”

Their eyes met.

“What, exactly, did you clean?”

——

Nobody knew how cloning came about. One day, it had simply shown up in the papers. An advertisement that promised “double the work speed, double the fun.” Most people were too skeptical or God-fearing to try such a thing, and whispers of witchcraft filled the streets. Some retired early in the evenings and bolted their doors, certain that those behind this mysterious “cloning” would break into their homes and kidnap them if not enough men showed up to be... experimented on.

Only a few men were unafraid. Mostly single and without families , they would send the required cash amount to the address advertised in the papers, then a letter would come for them a few weeks later that disclosed the address in which cloning would take place.

One of these bold, fearless men was Phineas Taylor Barnum. Ringmaster of The Barnum Circus, just crazy enough to try it.

“I’ll do anything for my shows,” he explained to his worried circus troupe.

“But, Phineas,” his troupe protested, “You’re not single. You have a family—“

“Whom I adore,” Phineas agreed.

“—and you have us. Why would you risk that?”

The only answer they received was a blinding, unafraid grin.

Later, either in their office or in bed together at night, Phillip Carlyle questioned him alone. “Do you really want to risk leaving me?” he whispered.

Phineas held him close and kissed trembling lips.

“I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t think it was a good idea,” he said.

Phillip remained silent.

“Besides,” Phineas added, eyes sparkling as he grinned, “Think of the profits it’ll bring for the show.”

Phillip could only nod in silence, stomach fluttering with anxiety even as Phineas pulled him closer and whispered sweet assurances in his ear.

Phillip Carlyle was not a religious man, but he could only pray that Phineas was right.

*

It didn’t take long for everybody to fall in love with P.T. The spitting image of Phineas, he soon learned how to lead the circus as his original did, the two of them performing shows together. He learned how to tame the lions, ride the elephants, care for the horses. He even learned how to work the Lyra better than Phineas could, which was something Phineas constantly grumbled about. Learning this, Anne and W.D. Wheeler relentlessly teased him.

After a while, Phillip, too, realized that having two Barnums around wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

He even began to get... ideas.

Phillip had only ever been in a proper, albeit secret, relationship with Phineas, but that didn’t stop his eyes from wandering. He watched Phineas’ double as he worked around the circus tent, and watching the two of them perform as co-ringmasters left Phillip particularly weak in the knees.

One night, Phineas finally managed to coax the truth out of his young partner.

Phillip was half-asleep, beginning to slip off into sweet unconsciousness, when he felt Phineas’ hand ghost down his skin. It slid over his thigh, leaving goosebumps in its wake, and took firm hold of his cock.

Phillip gasped, startled, breathy.

“I see the way you look at him,” Phineas hummed, stroking Phillip’s length. Phillip’s breath caught in his throat and he rolled his hips in Phineas’ hand.

“L-Look at who?”

A light squeeze made Phillip gasp and jerk. “P.T.”

“I don’t—“

Phineas hissed in his ear, “Don’t lie to me, boy.”

Phillip whined. It was all the confirmation Phineas needed.

Phillip wasn’t sure how long they lay there in silence, but it felt like a lifetime. Finally, Phineas hummed again and lazily stroked the velvety skin between Phillip’s legs once more.

“Perhaps we could... work something out.”

Phineas continued his ministrations, Phillip’s hips twitching into his hand. When he made Phillip come, it was with a cry and Phillip wondering if, perhaps, this was all a dream.

*

It was no dream.

Phineas disappeared the next day at the circus. Neither Phillip nor the troupe could find him anywhere, and, when questioned, P.T. shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. P.T. — who had a small tattoo on the inside of his left wrist, the only thing that differentiated clones from their originals — carried on as if nothing was wrong, and Phillip began to suspect that he knew something.

In fact, from the way he caught P.T. watching him, he knew that the double knew something.

There were only rehearsals that day so Phineas did not miss any shows, but having one ringmaster lead them instead of two felt odd and out of place. P.T. mirrored every move, every dance, perfectly, but the empty spot next to him where the original ringmaster should have been was gaping.

Though he hid it well, anxiety was beginning to curl at the pit of Phillip’s stomach.

The circus tent began to empty out as late afternoon transitioned into evening, though nobody appeared the slightest bit worried about their missing ringmaster. Phillip wasn’t leaving without Phineas. He headed upstairs, toward the office he shared with Phineas and his double.

The door was closed. He raised his fist, knocking twice.

“Phin, are you in there? It’s Phil—“

The rest of his words died in his throat as the door jerked open and a hand closed around his shirt collar, yanking him inside. He spluttered, almost tripping over the floorboards as the door slammed shut behind him. He looked up into the eyes of one of the ringmasters.

“Ph-Phin?” he gasped out.

The ringmaster grinned and held up his left wrist. No tattoo.

“Oh, thank God,” Phillip muttered, shoulders relaxing. “Where have you be—“

He was interrupted, yet again, as the door to their private quarters opened, and Phineas’ double stepped out into the office.

“P.T.? What—“

Phineas took a step closer, devilish smirk curling at his lip, eyes glittering. “You told me you wanted him, Phillip.”

Realization set in. Phillip’s eyes flicked over to P.T., his mind swimming at the thought of two Barnums in one room. Alone. With him. Heat flared his cheeks, and he felt a familiar stirring in his trousers.

“Oh,” he breathed.

It was happening. Phineas was making it happen.

Before his mind could process anything further, Phineas pulled him closer, pressing their mouths sloppily together. His lips were hot and wet and demanding.

In the haze that took over Phillip’s mind as they kissed, he noticed movement behind Phineas. It was P.T., already slipping out of his ringmaster costume, eyes dark with want. The same eyes that had been watching Phillip all day.

They had planned this.

It all made sense.

Phillip moaned into Phineas’ mouth. Groaning, Phineas ground his hips against Phillip’s, making him gasp.

“Ph-Phin—“

P.T., shirtless now, appeared like an apparition at Phillip’s side. Pulling back Phillip’s shirt collar, he latched onto the smooth skin of Phillip’s neck. Phillip shuddered and moaned, curling fingers into Phineas’ hair and yanking hard.

There was no way he was going to survive this.

Somehow, Phillip found himself pressed against the wall. He didn’t remember backing up, let alone being moved, but Phineas’ hand slid around his waist as he ground into Phillip, cupping Phillip’s ass and lifting him up. He felt a second mouth nip at his ear as he wound his legs around Phineas’ waist. He whimpered as he pulled away from Phineas’ mouth and pressed his face into his neck.

“Phillip,” two voices whispered at once, “look at me.”

Phillip looked up, bleary-eyed, at two identical pairs of eyes, darkened with lust. P.T. slid his waistcoat down his arms while Phineas held him secure as he was forced to unclasp his fingers from around the ringmaster’s neck, and P.T. threw the garment to the floor with a careless hum. He worked at Phillip’s suspenders next, fingers hurried and eager to get him out of his clothes as quickly as possible.

“Mmm.” Phineas nipped at his neck. Rough, calloused hands — from P.T., Phillip’s mind vaguely registered — flicked his nipples and slid down his chest. They fiddled with the button on Phillip’s trousers, barely sliding over the bulge in them. Phillip whimpered again.

“Can’t get them off,” P.T. cursed. Phillip was still trapped between Phineas and the wall, and P.T.’s hands didn’t have enough room to work between them.

“Guess we’ll have to fix that.”

Phineas carried Phillip, who clung tight, into the spare room that’d been made into a makeshift bedroom. Phillip let out a wordless exclamation as he was suddenly thrown onto the bed. Phineas grinned from above him.

P.T. Where was P.T.?

Phillip craned his neck to look, but Phineas blocked his line of vision. He loomed over Phillip, looking at him like a lion eyeing its prey, grinning as he climbed onto the bed. His hands were on either side of Phillip, trapping him, and he captured Phillip’s lips in another long, hungry kiss.

Phillip moaned, back arching up into Phineas’ touch. Phineas sighed at the press of Phillip’s chest against his own, and moved his lips to trail down Phillip’s neck, his chest. Biting down on a nipple, he tugged the skin lightly with his teeth, barely managing to hold back a grin as Phillip cried out. The brush of Phineas’ ringmaster coat caressing Phillip’s exposed body was a tantalising promise of what was to comee. He pressed up against Phineas once more, craving that delicious sensation.

As Phineas kissed down Phillip’s stomach, making his way to his navel, Phillip was distracted by the brushing of fingers against his wrist. He looked up, arching his neck, in time to see P.T. tie purple ribbons around his wrists, and then to the bedpost. His knots were tight, rubbing against Phillip’s skin.

“P.T.!” Phillip gasped.  

Chuckling, Phineas moved out of the way so P.T. could situate himself. He straddled Phillip’s legs and bent down to kiss him, bruising his lips further. The attention was beginning to make Phillip’s head spin.

P.T. pulled away, grinning.

“Now to take care of these,” he mumbled.

This time, his fingers made quick work of unbuttoning Phillip’s trousers and pulling them down his legs. This left them each in various states of undress — P.T. only with his coat and shirt off, and Phillip... had, apparently, decided to forgo undergarments that evening. Phineas, meanwhile, was still entirely clothed, ringmaster coat and all.

“What’s this?” P.T. grinned, taking hold of Phillip’s half-hard cock. “Why, Phillip, the aristocracy would be ashamed.”

Phillip’s face flamed with color as he moaned. His eyes fluttered shut and he pushed his hips further up into P.T.’s hand. He yearned to touch P.T., to run his hands through the double’s hair and down his chest, but the ribbons protested every time he tried to move his wrists. His fingers twitched and he whimpered, opening his eyes and looking at the pair with big, pleading eyes.

They smirked at each other. Bastards.

P.T. still had his hand around Phillip’s cock and began to stroke him to full hardness. Phillip gasped, so distracted by the perfectly calloused hand around him that he almost didn’t hear the telltale rustle of clothing.

Almost.

Gulping, Phillip peered over P.T.’s shoulder. The figure stood in the middle of the room, unashamed, very much aware that he was being watched.

Phineas was undressing. Finally.

“Phin,” Phillip whispered. He wasn’t sure how Phineas had possibly heard him, but he paused, shirt crumpled on the floor, and their eyes met.

“Yes, Phil?”

“Keep the coat,” Phillip pleaded.

That familiar smirk curled at Phineas’ lip. “As you wish.”

Another unfiltered moan escaped Phillip’s lips as P.T. teased his cock and ran his fingers lightly over Phillip’s balls. The bulge was evident in P.T.’s trousers and Phillip couldn’t help but stare, subconsciously wetting his lips at the sight.

“Like what you see, hmm?” P.T. purred in his ear. Phillip jolted, a shiver of want coursing down his spine.

Phillip watched, hazy-eyed, as the same hand that had just been around his cock disappeared inside P.T.’s own trousers. P.T. watched Phillip, eyes never leaving his face as he wrapped his fingers around his own cock.

“Christ,” Phillip whispered.

The hand stopped all movements. Bending forward, P.T. kissed Phillip, capturing his lower lip between his teeth, giving it a light tug. Phillip moaned and strained against his restraints.

“Uh-uh,” a voice, husky with desire, hummed in his ear. P.T. was still kissing his lips, so—

Phillip’s eyes widened at the sight of Phineas at his side, now in nothing but his ringmaster coat. He gasped as he broke the kiss with P.T., saliva trickling out the corner of his mouth, and turned his head. He was met with the flushed, red head of Phineas’ erect cock.

“Mmm,” Phineas purred, “you know what to do.”

The ribbons rubbed uncomfortably against Phillip’s wrists at this angle. He closed his eyes and whimpered. He heard movement as Phineas shuffled closer, tip of his cock resting lightly against Phillip’s lips. With a hum, Phillip parted his lips and took Phineas’ cock, swirling his tongue around the tip. Phineas’ sigh was all the encouragement Phillip needed, and he surged forward, eagerly taking in as much of Phineas as he could.

Phineas’ cock was thick and heavy in Phillip’s mouth, made heavier still by the fact that Phillip couldn’t move his hands around it.

Fingers itching to wrap around Phineas, his mind only half registered the freeing feeling as his ties were suddenly undone. After a moment, his eyes snapped open with a gasp.

He made eye contact with P.T., who smirked.

“Such a pretty little thing, mouth all wrapped around his cock,” he purred.

Phillip groaned around the cock in question, and Phineas growled as he tightened his fingers in Phillip’s hair. Freer now, Phillip gripped Phineas’ hips, nails digging into Phineas’ skin as he held the ringmaster steady. His wrists were slightly red from straining against the ribbons, and he looked up, wondering why he had been freed.

P.T. was gone.

Phineas’ head was thrown back in rapture, steady groans guiding Phillip along. His hips twitched and he growled under his breath as he clawed at Phillip’s scalp. Phillip’s own cock throbbed between his legs, making him whine deep in his throat and suck sloppily at Phineas, saliva dripping out the corner of his mouth and down his chin.

He had just begun to taste the salty tease of Phineas’ precum as Phineas suddenly pulled away, yanking Phillip back by the hair.

“Wh-What?” Phillip gasped.

Phineas peered over Phillip’s shoulder and smirked. Before Phillip could ask what he was staring at, he felt hands on him. They moved him, positioned him that he was lying properly on his side (possible, now, without the ribbons to restrain him), his face now buried in Phineas’ chest, bare but for the open ringmaster coat. Phineas’ arm snaked around him, holding him in place.

Phillip spluttered, so pressed against Phineas that his lips brushed against his chest. He tasted warmth and light sweat, tongue flicking out to tease. From above him, Phineas sighed.

Suddenly, something cold brushed against his ass, and Phillip gasped and jerked. A single finger, long and slick with... something... brushed the crack between his cheeks and Phillip stiffened. Behind him, P.T. chuckled.

That finger, slick with oil, found its target and pressed against Phillip’s hole. Phillip gasped again, taken off guard by the sudden intrusion, and let out a breath of air as P.T. pushed into him. Only one finger, not enough to strain, and Phillip started to relax.

“P.T.,” he sighed.

The finger was soon joined by a second. Phillip could feel the pull and stretch slightly more now as P.T. fucked him with his fingers, curling them, pressing them in as far as they would go. His jaw slackened, and he uttered a long, low moan as he pushed back against P.T.’s hand.

Phineas, meanwhile, bowed his head and grazed his teeth along Phillip’s chest. He bit at pert nipples and tugged lightly with his teeth, just enough to make Phillip gasp. His hand slid between their bodies and found its way between Phillip’s thighs. He closed his hand around Phillip's cock, starting to pump him slowly as P.T. inserted a third finger, drawing a low moan from Phillip's lips.

The pull and stretch had Phillip gasping, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. The sleeve of Phineas’ ringmaster coat brushed against Phillip’s cock, adding delicious friction as Phineas stroked him. Phillip’s tears threatened to spill over.

It was like Phineas’ hands were everywhere at once, and Phillip craved it all.

“Phin— P.T.—“ Phillip choked out.

In an instant, everything stopped.

Phillip’s tears fell.

Phineas’ eyes were dark as he smiled at Phillip. From behind, P.T. laughed as he carefully removed his fingers from Phillip’s tightness.

Phillip felt achingly empty.

“Don’t cry,” Phineas chuckled. Phillip closed his eyes and Phineas kissed his eyelids, soft breath warm against Phillip’s face. “We’ll take care of you.”

Soft caresses from calloused hands on Phillip’s back made him sigh, his eyes flutter open. He looked blearily at Phineas as the man kissed his forehead tenderly, a gentleness in startling contrast to those sensations overwhelming him only moments before.

Phillip didn’t miss the way Phineas’ eyes flicked over his shoulder, though. Before he could ask what was wrong, he felt hands pushing him onto his back once more. P.T. smirked at Phillip as he gripped Phillip’s hips. P.T.’s cock pressed against his hole, and Phillip moaned as he wrapped his legs around P.T.’s waist. P.T. was long and rigid, slick and oiled, and made Phillip moan louder still as he slipped inside him. Slow, but persistent. So much like Phineas’ cock... and yet somehow not.

Phillip moaned again and clenched around P.T.’s cock. P.T. smirked against Phillip’s skin, fluttering light kisses over his neck and shoulders as he pushed deeper inside. He moaned too, deep and low, overwhelmed by the tightness that encased him.

“P.T., a-ah—“

The rock of P.T.’s hips began slow and steady, and P.T. pressed their chests together as he captured Phillip’s lips in a kiss, forcing his tongue into Phillip’s mouth. Phillip’s hands scrambled down P.T.’s back, leaving pink burning scratches, and he moaned into P.T.’s mouth, eyes squeezed shut.

Phineas sat back on his knees and, for a moment, simply observed. When Phillip finally managed to open his eyes, he thought Phineas wasn’t going to do anything but watch. But then Phineas shifted, moving across the bed and placing a hand on P.T.’s shoulder, and Phillip watched through hazy vision as P.T. paused — still thick and throbbing inside of him — and Phineas  whispered in his ear.

Phillip watched, breathless and aching and still so full, as P.T. smirked. As Phineas backed off, P.T.’s attention returned to Phillip.

He pressed his lips to Phillip’s as he pulled out, leaving neither of them satisfied.

The cry that escaped Phillip was utterly humiliating, but he didn’t care. His hole ached, cock screaming for release, and he reached for P.T. with a broken sob.

Somebody chuckled — whether Phineas or P.T., Phillip couldn’t tell — and ran their fingers through Phillip’s hair. There was shuffling, movement, and then P.T. was sat up against the headboard, his cock standing flush and proud. He lounged against the pillows like a king on his throne, and motioned Phillip forward.

Half-wondering why they had to change positions, but too fueled with want to care, Phillip crawled to P.T. like he needed him to breathe. P.T.’s hands guided him, turning him around so he looked outwards at the bedroom, before he lowered himself onto P.T.’s cock.

Phillip’s eyes locked with Phineas’ as P.T. fucked up into him.

Phineas’ eyes were half-lidded, rich with desire.

“Look at him,” P.T.’s voice, thick and husky, whispered from beneath Phillip, “Look at how badly he wants you.”

Phillip must have looked like he wanted Phineas, too, because Phineas moved onto him without needing another word. Phillip moaned and immediately slipped his hands inside Phineas’ ringmaster coat. He felt Phineas’ heart thunder inside his chest.

The cry that escaped Phillip’s throat as Phineas closed a fist around his cock felt ripped from his very core.

Phillip could feel the roll of P.T.’s hips, could feel his cock as it buried itself in places only Phineas had previously discovered. He could feel Phineas’ hands, one holding him steady and the other working him in long, confident strokes. He could feel the heat, taste the sweat, as Phineas moved the hand from his hip to pull him close for a kiss. Phineas threaded his fingers in the hair at the back of Phillip’s head as their lips met desperately, hungrily. Teeth accidentally clacking together, both of them pulling back to breathe and gasp before bruising their lips once more.

Overwhelmed, Phillip closed his eyes as they leaked with tears. Phineas felt the wetness on his cheeks, but said nothing. Behind them, P.T. gripped Phillip’s hips hard enough that his nails left tiny, crescent-shaped imprints in Phillip’s skin.

“Not long now,” he growled. Phillip’s entire body shuddered.

P.T.’s words brought attention to Phillip’s own impending orgasm. The pit of his belly felt aflame, and Phillip was forced to pull away from Phineas. Tears openly streaked down his cheeks.

“Ph-Phin,” he cried between the slap of skin and his own breathy gasps and moans, “g-gonna—“

To his horror, Phineas‘ hand fell away from his cock. Phillip cried out, raw and aching and exhausted, and Phineas chuckled. Phillip’s vision blurred as Phineas brought both hands up to Phillip’s cheeks.

“Don’t cry, darling,” Phineas chuckled. He drew Phillip in for a kiss, mouths loose and sloppy against one another.

When his hand fell into Phillip’s lap again, he gripped Phillip’s cock.

Phillip near screamed, voice and throat raw, and came in Phineas’ hand. His body went slack, and P.T. moaned loudly.

“Y-Yeah,” he gasped as Phillip clenched and unclenched around him. “Ohhh, Phillip—“

Phillip groaned against Phineas’ chest as P.T. came inside of him. Body loose and lax and exhausted, he weakly gripped Phineas’ hand. He could have fallen asleep then and there.

But, Phineas.

He had to focus on Phineas.

Phillip peered upwards, blinking sleepy eyes at the man in front of him. Phineas smiled, though his cock was still thick and hard and no doubt uncomfortable.

“Hello, darling,” he hummed.

“Gotta take care of you,” Phillip mumbled.

He felt P.T. slip out of him then, leaving him open and empty. He hummed as he pressed his hand to Phineas’ chest, pushing him flat on his back. Phineas watched with a quirked eyebrow and smirk on his lips. P.T. handed off the oil he’d used to prepare himself and Phillip, and Phineas moaned as Phillip slicked his cock.

Phillip straddled him, slinging a leg on either side of Phineas’ hips. He gripped Phineas’ shoulders and lowered himself on his cock. Simultaneous moans filled the bedroom, and Phillip’s chest heaved as he slowly began to roll his hips.

“Oh, God,” Phineas sighed, thrusting up into him.

Phillip was about to mumble his own encouragements when they heard a low moan from elsewhere in the room. Phillip glanced to the side, making eye contact with P.T., who shamelessly watched them, lazy and lax in the afterglow of his orgasm. Their eyes met and he grinned, lowering his gaze to watch the point where Phillip’s body met Phineas’.  

It only took a few thrusts for Phineas’ body, tight and tense from holding himself back, to spill. Phillip, exhausted from sex and slick with sweat, gently rose off of Phineas and collapsed at his side. He could barely keep his eyes open as Phineas pulled him close and pressed tender lips to his forehead.

The mattress dipped as P.T. joined them again, and gently wiped Phillip off with a damp cloth. Phillip’s eyes fluttered close as he sighed.

“Satisfied?” a voice whispered in his ear. He wasn’t sure if it was Phineas or P.T.

“Very,” he mumbled.

Somebody chuckled and covered his shoulder in light kisses. He felt a hand run through his hair, though he was no longer sure if it was one or both of them.

“Love you,” he whispered, so quiet he wasn’t sure either of them heard.

But then two voices echoed back, “I love you, too.”