"Finally!"

Phillip blinked the sleep out of his eyes as the loud voice shook him awake. He looked up to see Lettie standing above him, a huge grin plastered on her face, the whole troupe giggling and whispering behind her. Phillip frowned. What were they laughing at? He was just sleeping... Oh. Oh. Phillip went bright red as he looked down, seeing P.T.'s arm still curled around his waist. Last night flooded back to him.

"So, how was it, Carlyle? How is the ringmaster in bed?" Lettie teased him loudly. Phillip shushed her; P.T. was still asleep next to him. The man looked ten years younger without the stress of the circus etched on his face. Phillip turned his attention away from Barnum and he sighed.

"Nothing happened, Lettie," He said. Lettie's smile widened.

"Sure..." she dragged out the word and the troupe roared with laughter. Barnum stirred, stretching his arms, accidentally brushing Phillip's face. The younger man buried his face in his hands. P.T. sat up, taking in his surroundings.

"Ah, friends, you're all here rather early, are you not?" Barnum said, as if he wasn't lying in bed with Phillip on the dusty floor of the circus.

"Barnum, it's nearly noon. What were you two doing that kept you up so late?" Lettie said cheekily.

Barnum raised an eyebrow suggestively. "That's between me and Mr. Carlyle, I'm afraid." Phillip scowled. "Now you can start rehearsing and I want no more of your cheek!" Barnum said.

The troupe hurried off, giggling to themselves, and Phillip turned to P.T.. "Why would you say that, Phin?"

"It's always useful to keep an air of mystery and intrigue when you work in the circus!" Barnum laughed.

"But nothing happened," Phillip hissed, "I don't want them thinking we- that we're-"

"Oh, calm down Phillip, they don't care," Barnum smiled, pinching Phillip's cheek mischievously. The showman stood up, brushing himself off as he walked away to their office.

"Well I care," Phillip muttered to himself. He turned around to see Anne watching him curiously from the edge of the ring. She flashed him a quick smile and looked away, busying herself with the trapeze ropes. Phillip frowned, confused, and followed Barnum to the office.

He took up the seat at his desk, avoided Barnum's eyes as he tidied his already organised desk, trying to look busy. Barnum leaned backwards in his chair so he could whisper easily to Phillip.

"I mean it, Phillip, they really don't care that you're gay," he said, his breath tickling Phillip's neck. "It doesn't bother any of us. Look at us! A troupe of oddities, why would we care?"

Phillip stared furiously at his desk, trying to control the red flush crawling up his neck. The ringmaster had no idea what he was doing did he? Breathing down his neck, the bastard, being charming and wonderful and kind and too goddamn attractive for his own good. He would definitely care that Phillip was gay if he knew that he was the focus of Phillip's feelings.

"And actually," Barnum went on, "I quite enjoyed the cuddles last night. So just say if you ever need a hug, Phillip," he brushed his shoulder against Phillip's, "but no more than a hug, okay? It's one thing letting the troupe think what they think, but another to actually do it."

Phillip looked round, ignorant, and Barnum flashed him a grin and a wink. Phillip heated up.

"Of course not, why would you think that I- that I would ever-"

"I'm just teasing you Phillip," Barnum chuckled. "I know you're too professional for that."

Phillip nodded slowly, turning back to his desk. If only Barnum knew...

What Phillip didn't see, as he turned away, was the flicker of longing in Barnum's eyes that flitted across his face, gone as quickly as it had come.