Title: right here, right now
Fandom: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Pairing: P.T. Barnum/Phillip Carlyle
Length: 417 words
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: sexual situations
Summary: It begins with a caress - Phillip can almost convince himself of its innocence.



It begins with a caress, light, and lingering. Phillip can almost convince himself of its innocence. Phineas leaning in to adjust his collar; fingers lingering along Phillip’s neck, stroking sensitive skin. He stills. Waiting. Wanting.

It begins in a bar, that same bar. The barkeep long gone - leaving Phineas to lock up. Leaving him and Phillip alone.

A step closer. Heat. Phineas dips his head. Lips brush against his. Phillip’s eyes close. Anticipation. A kiss, firmer now - insistent. Tongue darting, probing. There’s no mistaking what this is now. Is it wrong? In this moment he doesn’t care. Alcohol warmth spreads through him - making everything sound like a good idea. This is a very good idea.

Shoes squeak across the floor and suddenly his back is against the wall. A hard heat presses against him. Someone moans. Him? Phineas? Phillip isn’t sure and can’t quite bring himself to be concerned by it. Buttons undone. Hands grasping. For a moment Phillip falters. He shouldn’t - no, there’s no room for shoulds and shouldn’ts here.

Phineas trails kisses along his neck, sucking and biting - just a little bit. Then back on his mouth, rougher this time - more urgent.

Fingers deftly undoing Phillip’s trousers - dipping in - wrapping around his length. Yes, the moan is his. This time at least. Gasping against the other man’s mouth. Too much. Not enough. He takes a breath, glimpses down at Phineas’s hands on his flesh. Working him. He’s so hard, so close to bursting. A pause.

“No,” he gasps.

“Patience,” Phineas whispers.

He lets himself be guided over to the bar. Strong arms lift him and then a warm wet heat envelops him. Deft tongue caressing.

Phillip’s fingers go to Phineas’s hair. It takes everything not to tug, to pull too hard.

Amazing. So amazing, he can’t stop, can’t keep from - he groans as his release fills Phineas’s mouth. Relief. He leans back a moment. A rest - a breath. Then Phineas is kissing him again and it tastes like debauchery.

Positions shift. He’s gripping the bar, trousers pulled down further - Phineas positions himself behind him. Pressing - unsure - as if asking for permission, but the words going unsaid.

“Yes,” Phillip says softly.

Something wet, slippery, slick - then a biting pain that quickly dissolves into a different kind of pleasure.

Afterward, they lay on the floor behind the bar. A bottle of liquor - the good stuff this time, shared between them.

Lingering touches, soft and languid. Worries put off for another day. Sated, Phillip drifts off to sleep.