The Circus

"Idiot," Tom laughed, making Bo grin, "you're lucky it's fucking hot when you go all alpha male like that," he muttered. Bo barked a laugh at that,

"You're the first to think so, so thanks."

"And," Tom hesitated, worried he was digging too deep, "your real mum? Did you ever find her?"

"I did," Tom deadpanned, "in a crackhouse in north London. It's probably a good thing she gave us up." His voice was emotionless and Tom didn't press any further.

"What about you?" Bo was chipper in his obvious changing of the subject, "what about your family? They don't mind you running The Circus?" his last question should have sounded judgemental, but didn't. Tom shook his head, taking a big bite of his cold toast, to which Bo looked a little appalled, the man like everything burning hot, his toast, his tea, his sex. The thought made Tom swallow his barely chewed toast, he took a gulp of tea to aid it down. "Not much they can do if they did mind," he said snidely, "my parents are dead." Bo's movement's in the kitchen came to a sudden halt,

"Jesus Tommy," he seemed shocked at both the statement and the disdain in Tom's voice.

"It's fine," Tom sighed, "people aren't suddenly nicer just because they're dead." If possible, Bo looked more shocked then, he didn't ask for details but Tom continued anyway. "Sorry, I sound like a fucking psychopath but believe me, they weren't good people." Bo didn't say anything but put the kettle back on, pottering around in the most relaxing fashion, removing Tom's cold toast and slowly chopping a fruit platter for the pair of them. All the while, Tom talked, talked and talked. He said things he'd never said to anyone.

"My dad was really high up in the banking world, he bought us this amazing house Berkshire but I don't think he stayed more than a few nights in it the whole time we lived there. It was always business with dad, meetings, trips, eventually he rented a flat here in London so he didn't have to travel, after that, I never saw him at home again. I didn't even know when his birthday was until I did the paperwork for the funeral," he said bitterly. "When I was five they sent me to boarding school, a fucking religious one too," Bo laughed at that, they had already discussed Bo's own Catholic schooling. "I thought mum might object to it but she was equally keen for me to go. I think I cried every day the first year I was there, I was looking forward to coming home in the holidays but mum had decided to go back to work, she was an editor in chief at one of the newspapers. When the holidays did come, they sent and au pair to take me to Italy to stay with mum's family," Tom gave a genuine smile then, "that was the best. It got me through the rest of the school year knowing I was going back there. Me, Nonna, auntie Estelle, my little cousin Cicely and Gwen the au pair. Five years we did that routine, my mum would visit the school every now and then to check I was alive but every break I was back in Italy," his smiled faded then. "Then when I was eleven, my Nonna died. I wanted to go and see her one last time but mum said I couldn't, she fired Gwen and told me I was to stay at school during the holidays." Bo stopped his preparations for a moment to squeeze Tom's shoulder, he seemed to know exactly how to behave around Tom. "I did what she said of course, thinking maybe she'd start visiting me more often. I think maybe she tried at first, we actually hung out a few times and talked about Italy and Nonna and her childhood, it was pretty fun. Then, when I was fifteen she decided to give me a surprise visit, walked in on me making out with the Head boy," Bo's eyebrows shot up at that, "hey, I was discovering myself," Tom argued, "and he was a very good head boy," he licked his lips making Bo laugh.

"You vulgar little thing," Bo flashed him a heated look before serving up two more cups of tea and sitting back down with a plate laden with fruit, Tom immediately reached for a strawberry. Like always, Bo had dispersed the built up tension in the room with ease. "Gave her a shock I can tell you," Tom continued his story, "we had a big fight about it of course."

"She wasn't cool with you being gay?" Bo asked, they had already discussed Bo's borderline boringly sweet and loving coming out to his adoptive parents.

"She was fine with me being gay," Tom ate a grape, "she wasn't fine with me fucking every other gay man I could find," he grinned.

"Oh Tommy," Bo shook his head.

"It was an all boys boarding school Bo," Tom smirked, "and I thought I was a top back then."

"But not now?" Bo said heatedly. Shit, what am I supposed to say to that?

"Anyway, I'm telling the story," Tom said childishly, "she stormed off after that, didn't come back until my graduation. By then, I was over it, like really fucking over it. I told her and dad i'd gotten into a medicine degree in Australia, they didn't even fucking check." Tom savaged another grape, aware that he was probably swearing too much, "I went pretty much straight from school, auditioned for a place in a musical theatre at a performing arts uni and actually got it. I was two years in before they even realised."

"Seriously?" Bo said incredulously, his curls making him look like a wooly goat as he munched on some pineapple.

"Yep, they were pissed, like, 'we're-getting-on-a-private-jet-to-come-get-you' pissed."

"Can't say I'm surprised Tommy, what happened then?"

"They never made it," Tom said wistfully, "turns out the pilot had been enjoying his weekend when my dad called him up, he was drunk before they even took off." Eerie silence filled the small space. "No one survived," Tom answered some unasked question. "When I found out I dropped out the course, dicked around for a couple of years with funerals and lawyers and accountants and finally, when I was twenty two, Tiffany and I opened The Circus and three years later, here we are," he finished.

"I see," Bo said softly, "so, you just came back and dealt with it all, alone?"

"Well, yeah, I suppose," no one had ever asked Tom that before, "John, my parent's lawyer helped a lot. All of dad's money was tied up in investments and stuff but I sold it all off, I'm sure some of it was a loss but I didn't want to deal with it. Then we had the lawsuit and the pay out from the company which supplied the pilot, the investigation didn't take long and they were blamed for everything. Then I had to sell the house, I managed to get Tiffany a visa to come stay here then so she helped for some of it."

"Tommy, I really don't want to sound harsh here," Bo sighed, "but if you had as much money as it sounds like you had, why did you even need to start The Circus to begin with, let alone sell yourself," his voice was a whisper towards the end, he looked hurt.

"I couldn't...I..." here we go, telling more secrets we swore we would never tell. "Please don't tell anyone this Bo," the man nodded affirmative, "at the funeral, this man approached me. I had never met him before but as I barely knew mum and dad I figured he had a right to be there. He..." Tom's eyes were filled with tears now, "had these two kids with him, only little ones," Bo looked confused. "He was my mother's lover," Tom finally got out, "turns out my father had been abusive towards her for many years. She had sent me to boarding school to get me away from him. This man, had worked at the hospital she'd had to go to a few times...she had been pregnant with their third child together when she had died." That suffocating silence held the room again but Bo dispersed it easily as he always did,

"Oh Tommy," he was standing now, pulling Tom off his feet and folding him into a hug.

"The other two were hers too, they had lost their mother as well that day," he sobbed openly for the second time that day, "I gave him pretty much everything, he had their birth certificates and stuff. Jo-The lawyer was totally against it, I didn't even tell him who it was for, I covered the costs of all the legal stuff, kept enough to start the circus and some for Tiff and I to live on," he hurried the words out like they burned him, "he kept saying I didn't need to." Tom sobbed harder now, "he kept thanking me and I just remembered those children's faces and I couldn't keep it."

"But that means you did love her Tommy, even if you don't think you did,"

"No," Tom croaked out, lying through his teeth, "no, if she had that, why did she leave me? If she had such a loving family, why couldn't I be part of it?" Neither other them could answer a question for a dead woman, so instead they stood together in silence.

Chapter twelve

It was late afternoon when Tom left the tiny studio apartment he had spent close to twenty four hours in. After his meltdown, the two had cuddled and kissed before enjoying a short nap together. Bo had made them a light lunch whilst Tom had put his ipod on Bo's dock - sadly, not a euphemism - and whacked up the sound. They had danced and kissed and giggled to the entire playlist of The Circus' latest show, burning off their emotional energy and leaving them ready for lunch. Lastly, they had whispered sweet words to each other before Tom had headed out, the shining sun hot on his face as he walked back to his own home.

It was alarming how much he had shared with Bo, but it felt oddly safe, like everything they had done and said was locked up neatly in that little apartment. Bo hadn't let him see the drawing yet but Tom was excited. Turning on his phone, he sifted through the six missed calls, twelve text messages and one multimedia message. Five of the missed calls were Tiffany, as were six of the messages, all asking where he was and when he would be home. The final missed call was from his lawyer, saying they were due a meeting, ugh. He flicked through the other messages,

Okorie, Helena (Lena): You missed yoga this morning (sad face)

Tom sent back a quick apology, knowing he would be face to face with her soon.

Okorie, Charles (Charlie): Where's the dustpan and brush?

Okorie, Charles (Charlie): Actually don't worry, Lena found them

Tom sighed and ignored those two.

Price, Albert (Bertie): Hope you're enjoying yourself as much as I am x

Tom hastily closed the attached photograph of Bertie's cum-drenched face, hot as it was.

Unknown: Hey, it's Mikey! (smiley face) Rosie gave me your number xoxo

Tom send a polite reply and added his new contact.

Lee, Ambr- Tom hastily changed it - Lee, Ambrose (Bo): Enjoy your walk home (smiley face) I know you'll be working all weekend (sad face) but I'm nearly done with the painting if you want to see it? Also, I hoped we could set up some more sessions with the troupe (very happy face) miss you x

Damn the man work's fast, both in art and seduction.

You: Hey, they weather's great. It's a bank holiday on Monday so maybe you could come over and talk to the whole troupe?

He blushed before typing the entire address, he knows what country you live in you tool, finally adding a 'miss you too' and two kisses.

The multimedia message was a gif sent by Caleb depicting a grotesquely huge cock sliding in and out of some poor man's arse, Tom ignored it.

Tom reached his home around five o'clock that evening to a barrage of information. Tiffany whined that she had been left to do a new member's interview without him, Charlie complained that he'd been out of protein powder for close to three days now, Lena went on about how missing yoga would mess with his Chakras and Bertie repeatedly asked him if he'd checked his phone with a wry smile on his face. After cooking and apology meal of ridiculously rich vegetarian carbonara for them all, Tom finally relayed Bo's message about the exhibition, he'd received a reply on his phone and they had confirmed Monday would be their meeting day. It ate into a few people's days off but he promised them shorter rehearsals for the rest of the week to make up. They were well onto a dessert of chocolate mousse and too much Prosecco when Tiffany finally asked the question, "So you were with him last night?" her nonchalance betrayed by the excitement bubbling in the room. Tom sighed, Tiffany was the only one who knew about his personal problems but the whole gang knew he had sex once in a blue moon. "Yes Tiffany I was," he didn't bother with lies. Lena, Tiff and Bertie all shrieked at the news,

"I'm texting Caleb," Bertie's tiny fingers flew across his phone screen.

"For fuck's sake guys, it's not a big deal," Tom ate a massive mouthful of chocolate mousse.

"Did you bottom for him?" Bertie purred, Charlie looked uncomfortable and started clearing the plates, Lena looked disappointed but helped.

"Bertie," Tom started, pushing the small man away when he started closing in and licking his lips, "that's none of your business." Tiffany huffed, joining in with the cleaning and loading the dishwasher. She knew how stubborn Tom could be, she also knew if he wanted to share, they would discuss it alone. "Aw," Bertie leaned in, whispering in Tom's ear, "I wonder if I put my fingers in, would it be all squishy and wet?" his voice held an odd tone between childlike and scarily seductive, his tiny fingers danced along Tom's waistband, "shall we find out?"

Tom was suddenly standing, almost sending his chair flying, his face hot, his cock almost noticeably hard. "I'm going to bed," he gasped, before legging it upstairs and slamming the door. Bertie rattled Tom the same way he rattled everyone, he was obtuse in the most provocative of ways. The pity Tom had initially felt for the man had long gone ever since he had caught the little smile Bertie would wear whenever he pushed someone over the edge, a smile he had caught sight of before he can come running upstairs.

Tom had another long bath that night, reinfusing himself with lavender and soaking his still-sore arse. It wasn't as bad as he'd anticipated, sure he had to sit down slowly on most surfaces but it had been well worth it. He touched himself in the bath for the second time, this time with far more ammunition. He fingered himself again, this time far more frustrated that he couldn't fully pummel his prostate the way Bo had. He came again, this time with Bo's name on his lips.

Saturday was slow, usually it was Tom's favourite day of the week but now, every Ambrose-free day felt wasted. The show went very well, those few creases had been ironed out in rehearsals and everyone was feeling more confident. Tom's arse ached with every high kick but he revelled in it. There weren't any regulars in the audience and therefore no one to notice he had reeling in his performance a little, he still touched and teased and grinded, but there was no kissing and fortunately, no bookings for him either. They tested the new music to Tiffany's second dance performance, the audience loving the irony of Tom belting out their faster remix The Police's Roxanne whilst Tiffany and her girls seduced several members of the audience. It was a busy week for meet and greets, with Tiffany, Caleb, Bertie and a few others booked for after the show. Tom had retreated back to the house, joining Lena and Charlie for a light dinner before heading to bed.

Sunday followed the usual routine, everyone emerging from their beds some time in the afternoon before slobbing, eating and wasting their way through the day. Tom's phone buzzed just before he hopped into bed,

Lee, Ambrose (Bo): Is 11am too early tomorrow? (smiley face) (face with hearts for eyes) xx

Tom chuckled, it probably was too early for a bank holiday, but he would force the others.

You: 11am sounds great, good night x

Lee, Ambrose (Bo): Night Tommy x

Tom shot a quick message to Caleb to come to the house the next morning, finally winning him over with the promise of a cooked breakfast.

When the morning finally came, Tom was up far too early, he showered, taking painstakingly long and putting one of Tiff's treatments on his hair. He still smelt of lavender but it was now mixed with his citrus body wash, the combination was rather nice. The hair, now amazingly shiny and silky, he plaited to one side, letting it drape over his shoulder, it was getting a little long but he was sort of enjoying it. He dressed casually, round neck t-shirt that at least attempted to hide his myriad of marks, and jeans. By the time Caleb rocked up around half past ten, Tom had cleaned the whole house, aggressively woken everyone up, forced them to dress half decently and was angrily frying pretend bacon. Caleb looked fine as ever, his lean body barely fitting into a tight mesh top and leather-look trousers. He swooped down to peck Tom on the cheek before gently patting his arse, Tom shot up, squeaking in pain. "I bloody knew it," Caleb grinned, "as if he got your arse and I didn't," he pouted.

"Fuck off," Tom pretended to frown, leaning up and giving his own little peck of greeting, "thanks for coming." Where Bertie was difficult, Caleb was easy, laidback to almost a worrying degree.

"No worries my lovely," the little expression betraying the West country heritage Caleb had hidden long ago, "everyone else up?" Tom nodded just as Lena, Charlie and Tiffany made their way downstairs. They greeted Caleb, Tiffany a little cold as she always was with Caleb. Oh Tiff, you're so obvious. They finished cooking breakfast and Bertie finally came downstairs, giving Caleb an open-mouthed kiss before making the eggs, Tiffany bristled slightly. They were just dishing up when the doorbell rang, precisely ten minutes earlier than it was supposed to. Trust him to be early.

Chapter thirteen

Upon opening the door, Tom found himself face to face with a large rectangle wrapped in brown paper. "Hey, sorry I'm early," it said. Clicking his tongue, Tom took the huge canvas from Ambrose, turning it sideways so he could get it through the front door. "You didn't need to bring it here," Tom complained, "I could have ju-," he was cut off by a long, passionate kiss. It wasn't the kind of kiss you did in public, it was the kind of kiss you enjoy with a cock deep inside you. After far too long, Tom was released, "I'm really happy to see you again," Bo stated the obvious. He looked wonderful, a sky blue dress shirt sat over a pair of grey jeans and brown boat shoes, his hair was freshly washed and he smelt like that same mix of ginger spice and paint. "Wow," Tom spun to find Caleb openly eyeing Bo up from inside the entryway, "that was hot, no wonder you let him fuck you." He leaned past Tom to shake the hand of Bo's that wasn't holding a large carry case, "Caleb Jones," his voice was silk. Bo looked shocked for a millisecond but like always, he read Tom well, saw the annoyance in his eyes. He knows I didn't kiss and tell. Caleb's a professional for fuck's sake. "Ambrose Lee," that wonderful voice replied, Caleb was practically purring and Tom felt and ugly spike of jealousy.

"He's a top Caleb," he said curtly, knowing he was doing exactly what Caleb wanted by getting emotional. The twitch in Caleb's lips confirmed it, dammit,

"You would know," he winked, sashaying back into the house. Tom clenched his jaw, twirling back around to face Bo,

"Sorry, he's like that, I didn't mean to tell him anything personal, it's just that he only tops and I knew he'd leave you alone if I..." his mortified ramblings finally drifted off. Bo gave a little chuckle and went in for another kiss, a sweet little peck this time, "you are so very adorable," he traced Tom's bottom lip with his thumb, "I missed you." Tom's breath hitched, his pale cheeks flushing, "M-me too," he whispered, whirling round and heading inside the house.