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Frank wakes to chill air on his cheek but warmth all along his front and back. The weather turned colder overnight, and he and his companions have huddled closer together in their sleep. He squints his eyes open and sees that it's dark still, so he can probably lie here a little longer before Patrick starts rousing the company.
He's curled up in a tiny ball and tucked against Ray on his front side. Frank always tries to get a spot near him on cold nights; Ray doesn't kick or steal blankets, and he makes an excellent shelter from the wind. Gerard is curled around Frank's other side, one hand resting on Frank's back, his breath hitting the back of Frank's neck in warm little puffs. Frank wants to turn and see Gerard's face, so close to his, or nestle back against him, fit himself even more neatly into the curve of Gerard's body. Instead, he lies there quiet and still until he hears the others stirring.
***
An hour later, the company's on the road. For the most part they walk, taking turns to ride on the wagon that holds their gear. The day ahead will be spent in traveling. With luck, they'll reach their destination by sundown, and spend tomorrow setting up for that evening's performance.
Frank munches an apple for breakfast and walks beside the shaggy black pony that pulls the wagon, who he's privately nicknamed Sweet Pea. Now and then, he steals glances toward Gerard, walking up ahead in conference with Patrick and Gabe.
Gerard and Mikey joined the company three months ago, and they're both still something of a mystery. No one really knows where they came from or what they were doing before, only that Patrick hired them at the personal request of Lord Morrison, the company's patron.
There are rumors, of course, that one or both of the brothers has enjoyed Lord Morrison's patronage in more ways than one. Frank tries not to listen to gossip--in his experience, it does no one any good even when it is true--but sometimes he wonders. One thing he knows; if Gerard was his lover he'd want to keep him close, not see him go wandering all over the country. But then, he'd also want to give Gerard anything that would make him happy, and being with the company seems to make him happy.
Gerard mostly does the same work as the other hired men; helping with costumes and props, hawking to draw crowds in and collecting their pennies at the door, entertaining the audience before the actors take the stage. He has an interest in acting himself, but the actors in the company have earned their places, and though he may be their patron's rumored favorite Gerard isn't here to replace any of them. Frank's only seen him take the stage twice, both times when an actor was ill. Once he played a knight, wearing his armor and bearing his sword so proudly you'd never think they were only painted wood, and once a maiden, wearing a robe stitched with gold thread and rouge bright against his fair skin. Frank doesn't know which was more beautiful.
Gerard waves his hands around as he walks; Frank's not close enough to hear what he and the others are discussing, but whatever it is has Gerard quite animated. Gabe says something in reply, grinning, and reaches out to tug on a lock of Gerard's shaggy dark hair. Gerard bats his hand away, laughing.
Frank looks down at the ground, swallowing hard. Sweet Pea noses at his hand, and he strokes her mane and feeds her what's left of his apple.
***
They make good time and reach the town earlier than expected, which means there's still a good-sized crowd in the streets to see them arrive. Frank grins as a pack of children start following the wagon, begging for songs or tricks.
They come to the town square, Pete bringing the wagon to a slow stop, and while Patrick goes off to see about lodging for the night, the company breaks out into impromptu performing. Gerard and Ray sing a few songs together, Gabe juggles, and Pete does some of his acrobatic tricks. Some of the others mingle with the crowd, spreading the word about tomorrow's performance. Frank spots Mikey hanging back near the wagon, and Greta with him--unlike his brother, Mikey's shy around crowds, and Greta, in her jerkin and hose with a cap pulled low over her face, makes a convincing enough lad, but tries to avoid close inspection from strangers.
As for Frank, he looks around, spots a curious-looking boy nearby, and beckons him over.
"Are you going to put on a play here, sir?" the boy asks as he approaches.
"We are indeed," Frank tells him. "Tomorrow evening. Would you like to come and see it?"
The boy looks downcast. "I would, sir, but I haven't any money."
"No? Well, that's a shame. But are you sure?" Frank asks him. "What's this over here?"
He reaches over to the boy's ear and flicks his wrist, then holds up a penny before the boy's wide eyes.
The lad snatches his prize and runs off with a hasty "Thank you, sir!", and a few other children crowd around Frank, having seen the trick. It may seem counterproductive, giving away money, but if enough of the children Frank produces pennies for tell their friends about the show or beg their parents to take them to see it, it will work out to the company's advantage. Besides, it's fun.
Their lodging for that night is a barn on the outskirts of town--better than the outdoors, cheaper than paying for beds at an inn--and they cook a stew over the little fire they make in the yard outside. After supper, Frank is sitting on the ground, looking up at the sky as the stars come out, when Gabe emerges from the barn with two wooden swords in hand, tossing one to Frank.
"Practice!" he declares.
Frank grins, standing. The actors often enlist him to help them practice their swordplay, as he's quick, light-footed, and imaginative enough to keep them on their toes, and Frank loves it. Gabe in particular is an excellent opponent. Tall and lanky, with dark eyes and a rakish grin, he's the company's most frequent villain, and a fierce swordsman.
They dance around the barnyard together, wooden swords clacking, and out of the corner of his eye Frank notices some of the others gathering to watch. He doesn't let it distract him from the fight until he spots Gerard, leaning against the barn wall next to Mikey and watching avidly. Frank slows down for just a moment, looks back a little too long, and it's only Gerard calling "Watch out, Frankie!" that saves him from being whacked in the stomach. He parries just in time, and then, while Gabe is still recovering, darts in and manages to poke him in the chest.
"I win," Frank declares happily. The others cheer, and Gabe claps his hand to his chest with an exaggerated scowl.
"You had help," he grouses, but then puts his hand on Frank's head and ruffles his hair. "Well-fought, little brother."
"What, no prize for the victor?" Gerard asks, smiling, as they walk toward the barn.
"I would ask Greta for a kiss, but I don't think that would go over well," Frank says, and Greta shoots him a look that confirms his words.
"Besides, Greta's not playing our princess tomorrow," Gabe points out, slinging an arm around Frank's shoulders and looking around. "Where's William? It may help him get into character."
Frank ducks out from under Gabe's arm. "I'll do much to help you lot get into character, but I may have to draw the line at kissing William," he says.
Gabe shoves him toward Gerard, who catches hold of Frank's shoulder to steady him. "No? What about Gerard? He makes a decent princess."
Frank feels himself blush, his attempt to come up with a witty retort failing. Gerard glances at him curiously, and then back at Gabe, drawing himself up and adopting a haughty expression.
"If Frank wanted to kiss me--or I him--I doubt we'd do it in front of you, you lecher."
Gabe heaves a sigh. "Someday, Patrick's going to change his mind and declare that I can make people kiss each other for my amusement," he declares ominously, and goes into the barn.
Gerard shakes his head, looking at Frank, whose face is still hot. "I like Gabe, but he goes too far sometimes."
"He doesn't mean any harm," Frank says hastily, compelled to take up for Gabe even though he's still embarrassed.
"No, but you didn't seem to find his teasing funny just now, and he should have stopped a bit sooner, I think," Gerard says solemnly. He squeezes Frank's shoulder and then lets go. "I'm sorry."
Frank looks after him as he walks away, wishing he could work up the nerve to tell Gerard that the reason he blushed so hard isn't because he doesn't want to kiss him, but because of how badly he does.
***
When they bed down in the hayloft a little later, Frank finds himself next to Gerard again. They've slept next to each other plenty of times before, but it feels awkward now, so Frank burrows into his little pile of hay and says nothing.
Gerard, building up his own pile of hay, isn't so taciturn. "I think I've become too accustomed to sleeping on the ground," he says, smiling over at Frank. "A bed of hay seems almost luxurious."
He keeps his voice low, so as not to disturb any of the others. On the other side from Gerard, Mikey already appears to be asleep, and their next closest neighbors are Pete and Patrick, absorbed in their own quiet conversation.
Frank smiles back at him. "Travel with us long enough and you'll be able to sleep anywhere," he says. "It's quite a useful skill."
Gerard settles down on his side, looking at Frank curiously. "You've been with the company a long time, haven't you?"
Frank nods. "Almost as long as it's existed. I can't imagine doing anything else."
"No?" Gerard raises an eyebrow. "Not settling down somewhere, finding a pretty girl and starting a family?"
"I have a family," Frank replies simply. He rolls onto his back, looking up at the rafter beams. "I might like to have children someday, but I'd have to be ready to stay in one place long enough. Or take them on the road with me, and I don't think the others would like that much, at least not until they were no longer babes."
"And you'd need someone to have them with," Gerard points out. It may well be Frank's imagination, but he doesn't sound very pleased with the thought of Frank finding a wife.
"I suppose," Frank says. "It's mostly the children I think about, but it's not as though I can have them by myself."
"Mm," Gerard hums, and when Frank steals a glance at him he's looking away, off into the shadows.
"What about you?" Frank asks him. "Do you like this life enough to stay with it?"
"I like it," Gerard says, looking back at him and smiling again. "I want to stay with it for now."
"You say that like you expect it to end," Frank says, brow furrowed.
Gerard shrugs. "I haven't yet found any way of living that makes me think 'yes, I want to do this for the rest of my days'. I've wanted so many different things over time. Sometimes I think I want to be a scholar, or a painter, and I wanted to be a knight for a time when I was a boy. I even thought of becoming a monk once."
Frank pushes himself up on one elbow, staring at Gerard in the darkness. "A monk?"
"I was inside an abbey once," Gerard says, looking a bit wistful. "It was so quiet and peaceful that it seemed as though it might be a pleasant life."
Frank doesn't mean to laugh, he truly doesn't, but a snort escapes him, and then a snicker, and then he rolls over and buries his face in the hay, shoulders shaking as he tries to muffle his laughter so as not to disturb the others or offend Gerard.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he gasps. "But I just--I thought of you taking a vow of silence, and--"
"No, you're right to laugh," Gerard says, and Frank looks up to see him smiling wryly. "It was at a time when a life of quiet contemplation seemed...very alluring. But I know it wouldn't have lasted. They'd likely have tossed me out on my ear before I could even take any vows."
"I can't imagine what would have made you even consider it," Frank says. Gerard is silent for a moment, and it occurs to Frank that this is the most he's ever heard Gerard talk about his life before joining the company.
"Perhaps I'll tell you sometime," Gerard says at length, sounding cautious. "It's not a very good story, I'm afraid. And not one for tonight."
"As you wish." Frank's curiosity is roused now, but he leaves it there. Just the thought of Gerard confiding in him makes him feel special. If he waits until Gerard is ready, perhaps his patience will be rewarded. He nestles back down in the hay, very close to Gerard in the darkness, and whispers, "Good night."
He hears Gerard shift and then feels fingers brush over his hair, the touch brief and so light it could almost be imagined. "Good night, Frank."
***
Frank wakes up pressed close to Gerard again, chest-to-chest this time. His head is tucked under Gerard's chin, and Gerard's hand rests on his waist. Frank ought to pull away, he knows. They're far too close--if he tilts his head up just a little, he could slide his lips along the white column of Gerard's neck. If he presses forward with his hips, just a few inches, he could--
Gerard stirs, and Frank freezes--not that he was doing anything, but what he was thinking of doing is bad enough. Gerard's hand moves on his waist, and his voice is muffled by Frank's hair as he murmurs, "Frankie?"
Frank holds still, petrified, and after a moment Gerard draws back enough to look at him. He still looks a little sleep-fogged, but his eyes are warm and bright as they focus on Frank.
Frank is tongue-tied, but he doesn't close his eyes or look away--he can't, not after last night, not with Gerard's warm hand still at his waist and the way Gerard is looking at him. He looks back, and Gerard looks and looks and then starts to move close again, his lips parted slightly.
"Gerard? Frank?" Mikey's voice comes from below, and then his step on the ladder, and Frank and Gerard both pull back, avoiding each other's eyes, the spell of the moment broken. "If either of you wants breakfast, you'd best come and get it."
"We'd better go down," Gerard says softly, and touches Frank's shoulder briefly as he moves past him.
The day passes busily. Once everyone's up and breakfasted, they travel to the hall where the show will be held. The actors only get one chance to rehearse in that space, so it's up to the hired men to see to everything else. They unpack the costumes and props that will be used that night, inspect them for any signs of wear or damage, and make repairs as needed. Frank mends a tear in William's scarlet robe, glancing now and then to where Gerard sits fixing some spots where the paint has flaked off on Ray's sword.
They don't get any time alone in the hours before the show, as Greta and Mikey are constantly with them backstage. Before Frank knows, it's time to go out front and start taking people's coins and showing them into the hall. Just before the performance starts, he dashes backstage again, to find a spot to watch from.
Gerard is already back there, watching through a gap in the curtains. He turns as he hears Frank approach, smiling at him, and Frank comes to stand next to him.
"I love this part," Gerard whispers, looking out toward the stage. "Seeing it all come together. I almost feel sorry for the actors, that we get to stand back and watch it all, and they can't."
"It's wonderful," Frank agrees, but he's not even looking at the stage, just watching Gerard's face.
Gerard turns to face him. His smile is soft and gentle, and his eyes have the same warmth and brightness as they did this morning.
"Frank," he says softly. "I don't want to assume--that is, if you'd rather what happened this morning be forgotten--"
Frank steps closer, reaching out to take hold of Gerard's hand.
"No," he whispers, looking up into Gerard's eyes. "No, I wouldn't."
Gerard looks at him for a moment, then tilts his head down, and Frank lets his eyes flutter closed as Gerard's mouth touches his. The kiss is light and gentle; Gerard doesn't move forward to deepen it or take Frank in his arms, just holds his hand and kisses him slow and soft and sweet.
Someone coughs nearby, and Gerard and Frank each take a quick step back. It's Mikey, holding a prop that will be needed for the next scene. He's turned away from them to study an apparently fascinating spot on the wall, and Frank knows without even having to ask that it's all right, they can trust him. But it reminds him that this isn't the time or the place, and he takes another step back, squeezing Gerard's hand.
"Later?" he whispers. "We can...I don't know, we'll figure out a place to go."
Gerard nods. He leans in again and his lips just brush the corner of Frank's mouth, more the promise of a kiss than a real one.
"Later," he whispers, giving Frank's hand one more squeeze before he lets go, and though he moves away after that, Frank feels warm all over.