#silverflinthomas

They had come to a compromise on the name. Try as he did, Silver had struggled with calling Flint James. Truthfully when Thomas watched them together, he didn’t see James either.

And yet there was still James in this man who slept in the large wooden bed in their small bedroom. The man who had taken to farming with a zest that frankly Thomas was a little alarmed by. The man who read on the porch with him in the evenings. Yes, James was still here.

One year in and here they were together. At times Thomas could scarcely believe it. He looked around the porch, at Silver working quietly beside him, eyes intent on his task. His hair had grown longer, pulled back in an untidy ponytail. Flint too had let his hair return to the length it was when they first met. It suits them both and gave Thomas to hold on to at times.

                                                 *  *  *

He had meant to finish his book but he kept gazing at Silver instead.

“Something fascinating about corn that I don’t know?” Silver murmured, his hands still shucking busily.

“Mmmm.” Thomas said idly. He lifted one of his bare feet to press familiarly into Silver’s thigh. “Not particularly, no.”

Silver gave him a look and Thomas considered abandoning his book altogether for the rest of the afternoon.

Just then he looked up to see Flint leading their one horse up to the porch with their cart attached.

“Going somewhere?” Thomas inquired.

“Yes,” Silver looked up from the corn. “Where’re you going?”

“Where’re we going.” Flint corrected. “Go inside and put on a shirt.” He said this pointedly to Silver.

“I’ve shucked all this corn.” Silver protested. “It’s ready for dinner.” He held up the bowl as proof of his labors.

“The corn can wait.” Flint said firmly. “Put on your shirt and get in the cart.”

Silver went inside, grumbling under his breath, carrying his bowl of corn with him.

“What about me?” Thomas inquired, amused. “Am I acceptable for whatever it is you’re planning?”

“You’re always acceptable.” Flint said, smiling at him. “But actually, you do need to go change as well. Come on.” He made a hurrying gesture and Thomas went, bemused but curious.

                                                *  *  *

Once they were presentable, Silver got settled into the back of the cart and Flint and Thomas sat up front. This meant that Silver kept asking questions from the back, and occasionally poking both of them in the buttocks when he didn’t get an answer.

As they got closer to the village, the horse’s ears pricked up nervously. Thomas didn’t blame it. There was quite a commotion of noise happening inside the village. Drums, fiddles and tin whistles, along with laughter and song.

Flint drew the cart around along the tiny village green where most of the commotion seemed to be centered. There were other carts there, horses tied to the hitching posts.

“What is all this?” Silver looked around in surprise.

“This.” Flint pulled the horse to a stop and jumped down. “Is the summer festival.” He walked around to the back of the cart and unlatched the back so Silver could slide down. Not before Flint slid his hands around his hips, pulling Silver close to him for a moment. Revenge for all the poking.

“Hmmm.” Silver said, “And what’s the summer festival have to do with us?” He sucked in a breath as Flint’s body pressed against his.

“I thought it would be a nice idea.” Flint said, drawing back. He looked over Silver’s shoulder at Thomas.

                                                   *  *  *

As much Silver had no idea why Flint wanted them to be here, he couldn’t help going along with it. He followed Flint and Thomas over to the green, greeting the few villagers they had gotten to know in their year here.

There was ale and mulled wine, and when the dancing started, Silver caught the longing look Thomas was giving the dancers running to begin.

“Go on.” He nudged Thomas’s shoulder. “Join them.”

“Are you sure?” Thomas asked immediately.

“Yes, go on.” Silver told him, watching as Thomas reached for Flint’s hand, drawing him into the dance.

He settled on a bench with a cup of mulled wine, watching them with amusement.

He’d expected there to be jealousy when he found Flint and Thomas. And instead, there had been a welcome, a contentment, the settling of a familiar rhythm between the three of them. And there underneath that there was a feeling that it had taken Silver nearly this entire year to decipher. He’d never been familiar with it before.

This quiet joy inside him was still so new. He was half afraid it would desert him if he named it. Still, as he watched Thomas and Flint dancing together, he knew sooner or later he would speak it. It was only fair, he thought, that they knew how happy he was to be here with them.

                                                 *  *  *

When the dancing had died down and the afternoon had faded into the dusk of twilight, there was food to be eaten and more wine. The commotion of the earlier part had swayed into a lazy contented lull of feasting and merriment.

“What is this truly about?” Silver asked when they were settled the three of them were settled by one of the fires. One of the village lasses was singing softly as the fiddle players continued their ballads. The first glimpses of stars were present in the soft blue gray of the sky overhead.

He sat between Flint and Thomas, Thomas’s legs pressed against his, Flint leaning forward slightly to feed another branch to the fire.

There was a moment of quiet with only the crackle of the fire and the soft tune melding with the melody of the girl’s voice on the other side of the green.

Silver waited, lazily contented, as Thomas’s hand strayed over his hip and clasped Silver’s in his.

Flint finished with the fire and sat back, looking at him.

“It just so happens to coincide with the night we got you to stay.” Flint said quietly.

Silver stared at him helplessly. “What?”

Flint gave a little shrug. “One year today we’ve all been together. Isn’t that worth celebrating?” He looked from Silver to Thomas and back again. The twilight cast golden purple shadows across his face and Silver felt a stab in his heart, razor sharp and strong. It was as though he had been cut open with his heart exposed for all to see. Simply by Flint offering this.

“You sentimental…” Silver started and then couldn’t even finish the words. Instead he reached up and kissed Flint fiercely, cupping his face with both hands. “I love you.” He whispered into Flint’s beard.

“Good.” Flint said gruffly. “Because I love you too.”

He turned to Thomas, reaching for him, his hand entwining with Thomas’s broad fingers, before drawing Silver’s hand into his other one.

“We’re very fortunate.” Thomas murmured, gazing at their hands. That’s what Flint was thinking, he knew. He knew he was right when Flint leaned in and kissed him.

                                               *  *  *

Later when the fires had died down and they returned to the cart, starting the journey home. Silver curled up in the back of the cart and fell asleep nearly immediately. Flint held the reins lazily as they made their way along the dirt road.

“How did you manage it?” Thomas asked.

“How’d I manage what?”

“Arranging the festival to fall on today?” Thomas glanced at him. “I knew it was to be sometime this week. I heard one of the lads talking, but the coincidence…”

Flint chuckled in the dark. “I gave the village head one of those casks of wine we had stored. He was very amenable. It was no trouble to make sure the festival happened on a particular day.”

Thomas smiled.

“It mattered.” Flint murmured. “I wanted today to be remembered.” He glanced backward into the cart at the sleeping figure of Silver.

Thomas leaned in and kissed his cheek. “You know this just mean next year he’ll cook something up in return.”

“I look forward to it.” Flint said, straightening up a little as the road curves to the break which led to their little farm.