Creep In Like a Whisper, 2/2

[wordslinging]

Part One


Frank goes to Ray's quarters. He doesn't know where else to go--he can't stay in the library forever, and he can't quite bear the thought of going back to Gerard's rooms. Ray lets him in, listens as he explains what happened.

"I don't know what to do now," Frank says, sitting with his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped around them. "I thought if I could figure out how he felt--whether it was good or bad, at least I wouldn't be in doubt. And now I'm even more uncertain than I was before, and he's probably angry--"

"He's not," says a voice from the doorway. Frank looks up, surprised to see Michael standing there. "Except perhaps with himself. I'm sorry, Ray, do you mind if I come in?"

"Not at all," Ray says, and Michael comes into the room, dropping down to sit next to Frank. Up until now, Frank hasn't seen much of the younger Way brother. Michael looks a bit like someone took Gerard and stretched him out like taffy, and has the same gentle smile as his brother.

"I want to apologize on Gerard's behalf, first of all," he tells Frank. "You caught him rather off guard. Both of us owe you an apology, really--there are certain things you should have been told already, but we were worried."

Frank looks at him, brow furrowed. He has no idea what Michael's talking about, or if it's good or bad for him.

"There are things our uncle doesn't know, that we'd rather he not find out about," Michael goes on. "It's nothing harmful and nothing he needs to know, but he wouldn't see it that way. Which means we have to be careful about who else finds out."

Frank glances over at Ray, who says nothing and doesn't look at all surprised. Whatever this is about, it seems like Ray knows already.

"Gerard always says I'm a good judge of character, so I'm going to hope he's right and just ask you," Michael says. "Can we trust you to keep our secrets?"

Frank hesitates, biting his lip. It would be a fairly straightforward question--he shouldn't need to be asked to keep his master's secrets--except that he's not entirely certain who his master here is. Gerard's uncle is the head of the family and the one who paid for him, which technically means he could order Frank to repeat anything Gerard or Michael tells him. But he was given to Gerard, and it seems to him that being a companion to someone should mean being someone they can trust.

Michael seems to sense what Frank's dilemma is. "I can promise you that whatever happens, we'll both do our best to make sure no trouble comes to you because of anything we tell you."

He seems sincere, though Frank knows seeming isn't a guarantee of anything. He doesn't know Michael well enough to tell if he's trustworthy. He doesn't really know if Gerard is trustworthy, either, but from what he does know, he's more inclined to show loyalty to Gerard than his uncle. He can only hope that loyalty won't be misplaced and that he can trust Gerard to honor the promise Michael just made on his behalf.

"All right," he says, nodding.

Michael smiles. "Good." He takes his glasses off, pulling a cloth from his pocket to clean them, and looks down at them as he speaks. "The first thing you should know is that Gerard and I are both abolitionists."

Frank stares at him. He's known that abolitionists existed since he was a boy, but he's never actually spoken to one and certainly never expected to meet one here.

"But...you own slaves," he says.

"Our uncle owns slaves," Michael corrects. "That's why he doesn't know. He doesn't have any children, and our father was his only sibling, so right now, Gerard stands to inherit the entire estate. But if our uncle knew that Gerard plans to free all our slaves as soon as he's able to do so...well, we're not sure how he'd react, but Gerard doesn't want to risk it."

"I see," Frank says. Everything about the way Gerard's behaved around him is a little clearer now--of course he wouldn't act like either of Frank's previous masters, if he doesn't wish to be anyone's master at all.

"So that's why Gerard's been...the way he's been," Michael says. "I don't want you to worry, you're not in any trouble, but...well, you understand."

"Yes," Frank says, nodding. "Yes, of course."

"So now you know," Michael says, and nods toward Ray. "So does he, obviously, and some of the others, but we'd prefer you not discuss it with anyone."

"I won't," Frank assures him. It's not as though he's done much discussing anything with anyone besides Gerard and Ray.

"I do think you ought to talk to Gerard about what happened between the two of you," Michael tells him, standing. "But that's just a suggestion and not really my business, I suppose. Take care, Frank."

When Frank goes back to Gerard's rooms, he doesn't see him anywhere in the bedroom, but he can hear the sound of rustling paper from the study. He goes over to the doorway that connects the two rooms and knocks on the doorframe, and Gerard looks up from his desk, his expression a bit wary.

"Michael spoke to me," Frank says.

Gerard smiles wryly. "He told me he would if I didn't. So you know...?"

"That you're an abolitionist," Frank finishes for him, nodding.

Gerard looks down, running a hand through his hair, and then comes out from behind his desk. "I'm sorry for not telling you sooner, Frank."

"I understand why you didn't," Frank replies.

"I also want to apologize for what happened earlier, and for the way I've been behaving around you," Gerard says. "I never meant to make you feel ill at ease."

"It's all right," Frank says.

"And now that you know the truth, I'm hoping you and I can make a new start, so to speak," Gerard says. "I think the best thing to do is put what happened earlier out of our minds and try to get to know one another as friends, nothing more or less."

"Whatever you think is best," Frank agrees placidly. He doesn't know how to say that he's not sure he wants to put it out of his mind.

Gerard smiles. "Very well, then. But before we put the whole thing aside, I want you to know that my offer to tutor you still stands, if you're still interested."

"I am," Frank replies, returning the smile. "Thank you."

"All right," Gerard says. "I have some work to do tonight--really, I'm not just saying that--but perhaps we can get started tomorrow."

Frank nods. "Whenever you'd like." Gerard's the one with the busy schedule; it's not as though he has any demands on his time.

Gerard turns back toward the desk, gathering some papers together. "Oh, and I've been meaning to tell you this, but I didn't want you to take it the wrong way--you don't have to sleep on the settee every night, you know."

Frank blinks. Just a few moments ago, Gerard said he wanted to forget what happened in the library, and now, unless Frank's mistaken, he just invited Frank into his bed.

Still turned toward the desk, Gerard hasn't noticed Frank's confusion. "I mean, with the hours I keep, it makes more sense for me to be the one sleeping there. You can take the bed, I won't mind."

Frank looks down, swallowing hard. Of course. "All right. Thank you."

Gerard turns around, his things gathered in his arms, and smiles. "Well, I'm going to the library--I'll see you tomorrow, I suppose. Goodnight, Frank."

They meet in Gerard's study after breakfast the next day, and the first tutoring session consists mainly of Gerard asking in more detail about the education Frank's already had.

"Have you ever thought about what you'd do if you weren't a slave?" Gerard asks after a little while. "How you'd like to earn a living or spend your time?"

The question catches Frank off-guard. No one's ever asked him anything like that before, and if it's ever crossed his mind without someone asking, he's dismissed it without much thought. No point in thinking about what he can't have.

"No," he answers eventually.

"Well, you may want to start thinking about it," Gerard tells him. "If you decide there's something in particular you'd like to learn, I can structure your lessons around that. Otherwise, we can just start with some general subjects, and see if you find anything you like that way."

He bends down to add something to the notes he's been taking as they talk, and Frank watches him for a moment before he speaks up, hesitantly. "Would you--would you really free me?"

Gerard looks up at him, his expression sober and earnest. "I'd do it today if I could."

"I've never really thought about what it would be like to be free," Frank tells him. "I didn't think it would ever happen, so there never seemed to be any point in thinking about it."

Gerard reaches across the space between them, touching the back of Frank's hand gently. Frank goes still, looking up at him.

"I realize that it may be difficult for you to believe me, Frank. And I can't tell you when it will happen--it may be years from now. But when I can free you, I will. That's a promise."

It is hard to believe, but something in Gerard's eyes and voice compels Frank to do so.

"Why?" he asks softly.

Gerard's brow furrows, and he seems confused by the question. "Because it's not right," he says after a moment. He takes his hand off of Frank's and gestures agitatedly at the collar around Frank's neck, his voice turning sharp. "This isn't right. People shouldn't do this to other people."

It's the first time he's seen Gerard angry, and Frank's instincts take over immediately. He draws back a little, folding in on himself, and drops his gaze to the table. "I'm sorry," he says quickly. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"What? Oh, no, Frank--" Gerard's voice turns gentle, soothing, and he touches Frank's hand again. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm not upset with you."

Frank glances up cautiously, and Gerard gives him a tentative smile, which he returns after a moment. They stay that way a little longer, eyes meeting and hands touching, and then Gerard looks away, drawing his hand back.

"Shall we get back to work?" he says, gesturing to his notes, and Frank nods, folding his hands in his lap.

Gerard's uncle returns that afternoon. Gerard's quarters are mostly untouched by the bustle going on in the rest of the house, but the same can't be said for Gerard himself, who seems irritated but resigned at having to leave his work for a family dinner.

Perched on the settee with a book open in front of him, Frank watches as Gerard stands in front of his mirror, straightening his collar and gamely attempting to make his unruly hair lie flat.

"Can I ask you something?" Frank asks.

"Go ahead," Gerard replies distractedly.

"Is it difficult? Keeping the way you feel about things from him?"

Gerard takes a moment to respond, fussing with his hair a bit more before he gives up and turns his attention to his cuffs. "Not as difficult as you might think," he says eventually. "Neither Michael or I have ever been that close to him. And it isn't like we both woke up as abolitionists one morning--we came to it gradually, so we had time to learn how to hide it. Oh, for--" he breaks off, frustrated, as the cuff he just managed to button comes undone again.

"Here," Frank leans over the arm of the settee, reaching out. "Let me?"

Gerard holds his arm out, and Frank smooths the cuff out before folding it back and buttoning it, repeating the process with Gerard's other arm when he offers it.

"Thank you," Gerard says, and Frank smiles up at him. "I'd better get going. I'll see you later."

As time goes on, Frank adjusts to his new life. The instincts that have been instilled in him since childhood are hard to overcome, but if all else fails, he can use that to help himself--his instincts tell him to do what Gerard wants, and what Gerard wants is for Frank to do as he pleases and not be afraid of him.

He spends most of his time in Gerard's quarters, occasionally venturing out to the library, or to visit Ray or go for walks in the garden. He doesn't encounter Gerard's uncle, which isn't surprising, but he does see more of Michael--with their uncle back in the house, Michael and Gerard are being extra careful about when and where they discuss their views on abolition, and they often meet in Gerard's study instead of the library. Frank worries about getting in their way at first, but neither of them seems to mind, and when he grows bold enough to ask a little about their work, they're both glad to answer his questions.

"Of course, we haven't been able to lend much public support to the cause," Michael tells him. "But we do what we can. We've been meeting with other abolitionists, discussing how we can bring it about."

"Do you really think you can?" Frank asks. He can't imagine a world without slavery, but lately he's been introduced to a lot of things he'd never have imagined before.

"In the immediate future? Probably not," Gerard says, resigned disappointment in his tone. "There have been a few public abolitionist movements in the past, and they've always been put down."

"So it actually doesn't make much difference that we can't publicly endorse it," Michael adds. "Right now, we'd only get crushed if we did."

"What we're trying to do instead is build up support a little at a time," Gerard goes on. "Find people we think can be convinced and talk to them one on one. It's slow going, but the movement's gaining members. Someday, we'll be able to make our move and have a chance of success."

"I hope you're right," Frank says, and Gerard smiles warmly.

That smile makes something stir inside of Frank, as it always does, and he drops his gaze, leaving Gerard and Michael to their discussion.

He doesn't know what to do with the way Gerard makes him feel, whether he should try to fight it, or act on it, or just sit quietly and hope it goes away. He's never felt anything like this before. There was a certain almost-fondness for his first master, like what he supposes a dog might feel toward an owner who fed it table scraps and didn't beat it. There were some friendships with other slaves when he was a boy, but then he found himself on the other side of the divide that separated pleasure slaves from others, and that was the last time he could really call anyone a friend, until Ray.

He's coming to see Gerard as a friend, too, and he trusts him more than he's ever trusted anyone--Gerard hasn't simply chosen not to abuse his power over Frank, he's starting to convince Frank that he truly doesn't want that power--but it's more than that. Frank wants him, wants to give him what's only ever been taken before.

But even though he knows that Gerard wants him, too, he doesn't know if Gerard's principles would let him accept what Frank wants to offer, or if he would even believe that it was really being offered freely.

Frank's never let himself wish for what he can't have. He's always tried to put it out of his mind, be content with what he has and not hope for anything else. But Gerard is teaching him that it's all right to want better things for himself, to believe that he can have them someday. And now, when he lies alone in Gerard's bed at night, pretending to sleep and listening to Gerard moving around in the study, Frank dares to let himself imagine, and wish, and want.

Even with the new ache of longing, though, he's happier than he's ever been, so happy that he still doesn't quite trust it. Sometimes he still expects to wake up back in the slave market, or worse, in his last household. But every day that he wakes up in Gerard's room, with Gerard nearby, that fear loosens its hold on him just a little.

He's woken by a rough hand on his shoulder, and even before he opens his eyes, he recognizes that hand.

"No," he whispers, staring up in disbelieving fear. "No, you--you're dead. It's over."

"Have you forgotten that quickly?" his old master snarls, reaching for him. "It's over when I say it's over."

Frank gives an involuntary cry as he wakes, heart pounding, skin covered in a cold sweat. For a moment he's panicked, frantic, trying to claw his way out of the sheets wrapped around him. Then he remembers where he is, realizes he's trying to escape from a man who isn't there, and he slumps back against the headboard, cradling his head in both hands and trying to steady his breathing.

"Frank?"

Frank looks up quickly, startled and tense. Gerard stands in the doorway that connects the bedroom and his study. In the dim light that spills through from the lamp on his desk, he looks rumpled and confused, as though he'd fallen asleep at his desk.

He takes a step toward the bed, one hand outstretched, and Frank flinches back reflexively.

Gerard halts in his tracks, a contrite look on his face. "I'm sorry," he says, stepping backwards. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

He starts to turn back towards the study, leaving Frank alone with the shadows and his memories.

"Wait," Frank calls out, before he can think twice about it, and Gerard halts, looking back at him. "Would you--would you stay with me?"

Gerard nods, coming back into the room. Moving slowly, as if wary of startling Frank again, he sits on the edge of the mattress and holds out a hand.

Frank hesitates--but it's Gerard, and the memories that had him so frightened are just that, memories. He moves into the circle of Gerard's arm, leaning his head against Gerard's shoulder. Gerard draws his legs up onto the bed, curling himself around Frank, and Frank lets out a little sigh as he settles into Gerard's embrace. He tries to remember the last time he was held like this, purely for his own comfort, and can't think of anything besides his early childhood and the woman who might have been his mother.

"Would it help to talk about it?" Gerard asks after a moment.

"It was just memories," Frank says in a low voice. "My old master." He looks up at Gerard with a wry, humorless twist of a smile. "He wasn't like you."

Gerard bites his lip, looking like he doesn't know what to say, and eventually settles on, "I'm sorry."

Frank ducks his head, rubbing his cheek against the cool, smooth linen of Gerard's shirt. "It happened. It's over now."

Gerard's hand settles on his hair, stroking gently, and then trails down to cradle his cheek. Frank closes his eyes and leans into the touch, and it's not like last time, no artifice or attempt at seduction, just that it feels good to be touched like this. He presses himself against Gerard as Gerard draws him in tighter, and feels lips brush his forehead, so light it can barely be called a kiss.

Frank tilts his head up and opens his eyes to find Gerard leaning over him, their faces close together. He's caught off-guard by the intensity of Gerard's gaze--but not frightened, he realizes. Not frightened at all, though his heart is beating very fast.

Gerard's hand moves, his thumb tracing Frank's lower lip. The moment stretches out between them, their eyes locked, Frank waiting for Gerard to close the distance between them.

Instead, Gerard turns his head away abruptly, his hand falling away from Frank's face. "Forgive me. You turn to me for comfort, and--"

"And you are," Frank says, before he can finish. "Comforting me. It's all right." He touches Gerard's face, trying to turn it back to him, and asks, softly, "Can I kiss you?"

Gerard meets his eyes again at that, but he looks wary. "Frank--"

"I want to," Frank assures him. "I've never kissed someone simply because I wanted to."

Gerard draws back, brow furrowed, and Frank realizes he shouldn't have said that.

"So when we kissed before..." Gerard begins, trailing off.

Frank looks down, and then nods. "I didn't know what you were like, then. I was afraid that if you didn't want me, you or your uncle might send me back to the slave market."

Gerard's arm tightens a bit around Frank. "Never," he says, low but fierce. "I'd free you, if I could, but I wouldn't let you go back there."

"I know that now," Frank says. "But..." he pauses, trying to find the right words for something that's never had to be put into words because it's simply part of his existence. "I thought I had to earn your favor in order to stay here. It's been a very long time since anyone's been kind to me without wanting something in return."

Gerard gives a faint smile. "But I do want something from you. I want you to trust me."

"I do," Frank assures him, reaching up to touch Gerard's cheek again. "I'm not afraid anymore."

He's not entirely sure of what he's doing, but he knows he wants to do it and he's not afraid, and that's a heady, thrilling combination. He leans up and touches his lips to Gerard's, lightly at first, then firmer when Gerard doesn't pull away. After a long moment, he feels Gerard relax a bit, letting out a small sigh against Frank's lips and reaching up to thread a hand through his hair.

Frank presses closer, twining his arms around Gerard's neck, and deepens the kiss, tracing Gerard's lower lip with his tongue experimentally. Gerard makes a soft noise in the back of his throat, running his hand through Frank's hair and down to cup the back of his neck. When he touches Frank's collar, however, Frank can feel him frown, and a moment later, he pulls back.

"Frank..." Gerard turns his head away, though he's still holding Frank close. "I can't do this."

"It's all right," Frank assures him, but Gerard shakes his head.

"No, it's not," he insists, running his fingers along the edge of Frank's collar. "For me, it's not. Not as long as you're wearing this."

Frank ducks his head, biting his lip. It's not surprising, and it's another reminder of how different Gerard is from the other masters Frank's known. And yet...

"So we can't be together?" he asks softly.

"I'm sorry," Gerard whispers, and kisses his forehead again. "Maybe someday..."

"I don't want to wait for someday," Frank replies. Raising his head, he presses a kiss to the corner of Gerard's mouth, then whispers, "And I don't think you do, either."

Gerard seems to waver, his lips parting against Frank's. Frank presses his advantage, kissing him again. When he tries to deepen it, however, Gerard tips his head up, breaking the kiss.

"Frank, stop," he says in a low voice. Frank ignores him, kissing his cheek and the underside of his jaw, working his way down to Gerard's neck. Gerard's hands go to his shoulders, and for a moment Frank thinks he's succeeded, but instead of pulling him closer, Gerard pushes Frank away and holds him at arm's length. "Stop," he repeats, and there's a hard edge to his tone that makes Frank go still instantly.

Gerard can feel the tension in Frank's shoulders, and he sighs, letting go in order to reach down and take hold of his hands instead. "I'm sorry," he says. "I wish things were different, but I have to hold to what I think is right."

"But why?" Frank asks. "I'd understand if you were afraid I didn't really want this, but I do."

"I believe you," Gerard replies, squeezing Frank's hands. "But even knowing that...given our positions, it would feel too much like taking advantage of you."

That doesn't make much sense to Frank--how could Gerard be taking advantage of him with something he's the one pushing for?--but he doesn't want to argue with Gerard.

"Try to understand," Gerard goes on. "Right now, my principles are the only thing I have. Every day, I have to hide the way I feel about slavery. I watch people being treated like animals and I do nothing. The only thing I have any control over is my own behavior, how I treat people. If I give that up, I have nothing."

You'd have me, Frank wants to say, but he knows it wouldn't help. He looks down, biting his lip.

"Do you understand?" Gerard asks softly.

"Not really," Frank admits. "But if your mind's made up, I won't push you."

Gerard lets go of Frank's hands and reaches up to cup his face, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "It doesn't mean I don't care about you," he whispers against Frank's hair, and Frank closes his eyes and tries not to wish for more.

"Would you still like me to stay?" Gerard asks. "Maybe just until you go back to sleep?"

Frank sighs. "I don't know if I can." Right now, awake with Gerard close by, the memories aren't so bad, but he knows that when he lies down and closes his eyes, they'll be waiting.

Gerard looks at him for a moment, then touches his shoulder gently. "Here," he says, guiding Frank to lie down on his side. He stands in order to pull the covers up, tucking them around Frank's shoulders, then sits back down beside him and rests a hand on Frank's head, stroking his hair.

"I won't go any farther away than the study," he promises. "If you have another nightmare, I'll be here. Go to sleep."

Frank closes his eyes and tells himself to relax, and Gerard's touch and voice lull him toward sleep faster than he would have thought possible.

After that night, Gerard tries not to act any differently towards Frank, and Frank follows his lead. They go on sharing Gerard's quarters and continue with Frank's lessons, and neither of them mentions their feelings for each other. But Frank can't stop himself from watching Gerard out of the corner of his eye or finding excuses to be closer than necessary, and he doesn't miss the little ways Gerard betrays himself; an encouraging smile with something deeper and softer in his eyes, a light touch on Frank's shoulder or back that lingers a little too long.

There are times when it almost feels worse than Frank's first days in the house, when he almost thinks he'd prefer the tension and uncertainty he had then to feeling what he does for Gerard and knowing his feelings are returned, but still being unable to act on them. But Frank knows how to be patient, even if he's never had to be patient with anything like this before.

Sometimes it helps to get out of Gerard's quarters for a while. He feels safer and happier there than anywhere in the house, but there are times when he needs to be somewhere else, somewhere he's not reminded of Gerard by everything he touches or looks at. The library is Gerard's place, too, so when Frank wants to be alone, he goes to the art gallery or the walled garden.

Usually, he finds both places empty--Gerard's uncle has guests sometimes, but Frank usually finds it easy enough to know when they're expected and stay in Gerard's quarters until they're gone. One morning, however, he walks into the gallery to find a man he's never seen before there, tall and thin with graying hair. He turns as Frank enters, and Frank lowers his eyes instantly, clasping his hands behind his back.

"I don't think I've seen you here before," the gentleman says, and Frank glances up to see a speculative look on his face. "What's your name?"

"Frank, sir," Frank answers softly. He can't really do anything or say anything else without overstepping his bounds, but he wishes he could just back out of the room; there's an all-too-familiar gleam in gleam in the man's eyes.

"Frank." The gentleman lifts a hand, beckoning. "Well, don't just stand in the doorway. Come here."

Frank walks forward reluctantly. When he gets close enough, the man lays a hand on his shoulder, turning him to face the paintings on the wall. Frank can't help but tense up a little, but he holds himself perfectly still.

"I always make it a point to visit this gallery when I'm here," the man says. "There are some beautiful pieces here, aren't there?"

"Yes, sir," Frank agrees. He hears a slight noise from the doorway and glances over, hoping it might be Gerard or Michael. His heart sinks a little when he sees a slave girl, the same one who came in to clean the first time he was in the gallery. She's already backing out of the room, quiet and unobtrusive, but Frank tries to catch her eye, give her a pleading look. Not that it matters much if she notices the look or not--she couldn't intervene without bringing trouble down on herself.

Ignoring the girl, the man takes a step closer, his hand hot and heavy on Frank's shoulder. "Your master's always had a talent for collecting beautiful things."

Frank swallows hard, his heart beating loud in his ears, and then an idea comes to him. It's something he'd never have dared to do a month ago, but perhaps it's worth a try.

"Forgive me, sir," he says, starting to draw away. "But I'm expected elsewhere--"

Before Frank can slip out of his hold, the man tightens his grip, turning Frank again, so that his back's to the wall.

"And I'm a good friend of your master's," he says, advancing until Frank's pinned between him and the wall. "I'm sure he won't mind if I detain you a little longer."

The man looms over Frank, one hand still on his shoulder. His other hand rises to touch Frank's face, tracing the line of his jaw, and then trails down his neck to the front of his shirt. Frank flattens his palms against the wall, as though he could make it open up and give him a way out, and casts his eyes to the side, as though not looking at the man will somehow make him go away.

When a slender, dark-haired form appears in the doorway, Frank's heart leaps.

He tries to break loose and run for Gerard, but the man grabs his arm, jerking him back. Still intent on Frank, he hasn't noticed Gerard yet. His fingers dig into Frank's arm, painfully tight, and Frank lets out a quiet whimper.

"Take your hands off of him," Gerard says, his voice low and tightly controlled. His posture and expression are steady, controlled, but there's more anger in his eyes than Frank has ever seen.

The man turns, looking surprised. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me," Gerard says in that same flat tone. "Let go of him. Now."

The man obeys, and Frank instantly moves to Gerard's side. Gerard reaches out to pull him close, and there's something blatantly possessive about the way his hand curls around the back of Frank's neck.

"I'm sorry, lad," the elderly man says, his confusion gone. "I didn't realize he was yours. I thought--"

Gerard cuts him off. "Whatever you thought, you were mistaken."

Without another word, he turns, leading Frank out of the room. Frank keeps close to Gerard as they walk, but he catches something from the corner of his eye and looks up to see the slave girl watching. She gives a little smile and a satisfied nod when she sees him, and Frank mouths a quick thank you in response.

When they turn a corner, Gerard pauses, looking down at Frank. There's still anger in his eyes, but his voice is gentle when he asks, "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Frank assures him.

Gerard looks unconvinced, and he raises a hand to touch Frank's arm. "He hurt you."

"It's nothing." The places where the man's fingers were still sting, but Frank doubts there'll even be a bruise to show for it. "I'm just glad you arrived when you did."

Gerard starts walking again, steering Frank gently now with a hand between his shoulder blades. "If I'd known he was going to be in the house, I wouldn't have let you end up in that situation. I'm sorry."

Frank stays in Gerard's rooms for the rest of the day, and Gerard stays nearby, working in the study instead of going to the library. He seems upset, which would be perfectly understandable--Frank's still shaken by the incident himself--but Gerard almost seems upset with him, stiff and closed off in a way he hasn't been since Frank's first days in the house.

Frank doesn't say anything to him at first, worried it would only make things worse, but by the time Frank's getting ready for bed, the awkward silence is too heavy for him not to. He's sitting on the edge of the bed when Gerard comes out of the study, and he gathers his nerve and speaks up.

"Are you angry with me?"

Gerard looks over at him, brow furrowed. "What?"

"For what happened earlier," Frank clarifies, watching Gerard closely. Gerard looks down, avoiding his eyes.

"Frank--"

"I didn't know what to do," Frank says in a rush. "I tried to make some excuse to leave, but he wouldn't let me, and--"

"Frank." Gerard moves toward the bed and touches his shoulder, his voice soothing. "I'm not angry with you, I promise."

Frank lets out a sigh of relief, then looks up at him. "Then what's wrong?"

Gerard sits down beside him, taking a little while to answer. "When I saw him touching you...I was so angry. I wanted to run across the room and strike him. And I'd like to think that it was just anger on your behalf, but that's not all of it." He looks at Frank, his expression solemn. "I wanted to tell him not to touch you because you're mine."

Frank's heart is pounding and his mouth is suddenly dry, but it's so different from when he was in the gallery. He stares at Gerard with wide eyes, lips pressed together so he won't say I am.

"I've spent years trying to train myself away from my upbringing," Gerard goes on. "To devote myself to the idea that no one has the right to own another person. And now I wonder--underneath it all, am I still no better than that?"

He starts to rise, agitated, and Frank grabs his hand. "If--if I wasn't a slave," he says. "If I had never been a slave, if we'd met some other way...would you feel the same?"

Gerard turns his hand over to clasp Frank's, lacing their fingers together. "It's hard to be sure," he says after a moment. "But I think so."

"Then there's your answer," Frank tells him.

When Gerard leans in, Frank turns his face up hopefully, only to have Gerard cup the back of his head with one hand and tilt it down as he folds Frank into a tight hug. Frank wants to kiss him so badly he aches with it, but he just rests his head on Gerard's shoulder and sighs. They stay like that for a minute or two, and when Gerard starts to draw back, Frank clings to him.

"Don't leave," he whispers.

Gerard sighs. "Frank..."

Frank shakes his head. "I didn't mean--I just don't want to be alone tonight. Not after what happened. Please?"

Gerard pulls back to look at him, and then nods. He gets up for a minute, taking his shoes and waistcoat off while Frank pulls the covers back and lies down. Gerard turns out the lights and lies down beside him, holding out his arms, and Frank nestles close to him, pressing his face into Gerard's chest. He hopes the memories won't get too bad if he stays like this, wrapped up in Gerard, and if he does have a nightmare, Gerard will be there.

A sharp knock on the door jolts Frank out of his sleep, and he starts a little, with a bleary, confused noise. Gerard's arms tighten around him reflexively, and he hushes Frank gently before easing away.

Frank squints his eyes open, rubbing at them with the heel of one hand, and looks over as Gerard answers the door. Ray's standing there. If he notices Frank in the bed over Gerard's shoulder, he doesn't react visibly.

"Your uncle collapsed in his room," he tells Gerard urgently. "I think it's his heart."

Gerard pales slightly, drawing himself up to his full height. "Is--"

"Michael's with him right now, and I've sent for a doctor," Ray says.

"All right. I'll be there in a moment."

Ray nods, and Gerard closes the door, turning around to lean against it. He runs a hand through his hair and stands there for a moment, looking overwhelmed, and then he's in motion, crossing the room to splash some water on his face, dressing hastily, running his fingers through his hair some more in a vain attempt to tame it. Frank lifts himself up on one elbow and watches him, not knowing what to say.

"I have to go," Gerard says, coming back toward the bed.

Frank nods. "If there's anything I can do..."

Gerard smiles very faintly, and bends over him, cupping Frank's head in his hands and pressing a kiss to his hair. "I'll be back," he says softly, and then he's gone.

Frank gets out of bed after Gerard leaves. It's early--the sky outside is a pale, murky gray--but he doubts he could go back to sleep if he tried.

He goes down to the kitchens to find something to eat, and finds the house already buzzing with gossip. No one seems to know exactly what's going on; Frank keeps his own counsel and doesn't tell what he knows, but the others are all debating whether Gerard's uncle is recovering, dying, or already dead.

He goes back to Gerard's room and waits, and a little while later, Ray stops by.

"Is he--?" Frank asks.

Ray nods. "He was dead before the doctor arrived. Gerard and Michael are making arrangements; they'll be busy with that for a while yet. Gerard asked me to see if you need anything."

"Don't worry about me," Frank says. He has no doubt that Ray has plenty of things to see to at the moment.

"Well, if you need to find me for anything, I probably won't be in my room, but someone should be able to point you in the right direction," Ray says.

Frank nods. "Good luck."

It's a few more hours before Gerard returns. Frank's reading, curled up on the settee, when Gerard comes into the room, looking exhausted. He sinks down on the settee next to Frank, bracing his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together, and Frank watches him and waits, not knowing what to say.

"I've spent years waiting for the day when I'd inherit the estate," Gerard says eventually. "I never really let myself think about the fact that my uncle would have to die for that to happen."

"I'm sorry," Frank says softly.

"We were never very close," Gerard continues, looking down at his hands. "We had different politics, different interests, different ideas about almost everything...but he was the only family Michael and I had left after our parents died, and he did the best he could for us."

"I only spoke to him twice," Frank says. "But if it weren't for him, I wouldn't be here now. And I know how you feel about...everything involved in that, but I'm glad I am."

Gerard looks over at him, and smiles. "So am I," he says, and then reaches into a pocket. "For several reasons, one of them being that now I get to do this."

He turns toward Frank, holding a small key in his hand.

Frank's eyes widen, and he holds perfectly still as Gerard leans over and fits the key into the small lock on his collar. If Gerard never let himself think about his uncle dying, Frank's never dared to think about this. Even when he learned the truth about Gerard, even knowing that he might one day be free, he's never let himself dwell on it. He wouldn't really know what to dwell on, anyway--it would be like trying to imagine what it would be like to be a bird or a fish.

The collar's weight falls away from his neck, a feeling he's experienced a few times before, when changing hands from one owner to another. But this time, no new collar replaces the old one. Frank raises a hand to circle his own neck, touching the bare skin there and wondering how long it will take him to adjust to the way it feels.

And then he throws himself forward, into Gerard's arms, and buries his face in Gerard's shoulder.

Gerard freezes for a moment, and then his arms come up and around Frank. Frank clings to him, not bothering to fight the tears that well up in his eyes, and Gerard strokes his hair with one hand and holds him tightly, not saying anything.

"Thank you," Frank whispers eventually.

"Don't thank me," Gerard tells him gently. "I shouldn't be able to give you freedom any more than someone else should have been able to take it away. You've always had the right to be free, and no one will ever take it from you again."

Frank pulls back enough to swipe at his eyes with one hand. "I don't know what to say."

Gerard smiles crookedly. "Say whatever you want. You're a free man."

Frank still can't quite take it in--but, he realizes, he doesn't need to take it all in right now. He has time, and it's not going to go away. That thought makes him break into a grin, and he draws himself up, putting his hands on Gerard's shoulders.

"What if I just do what I want, instead?" he asks, and leans in.

Gerard doesn't pull away, doesn't hesitate before kissing Frank back. He slides one hand up to rest between Frank's shoulder blades, keeping his other arm curled around Frank's waist. Frank presses closer, until their knees bump, and then keeps going, lifting up on his knees and spreading his legs until he's straddling Gerard's lap.

When Gerard suddenly breaks the kiss again, Frank has to fight down a surge of frustration.

"Please," he whispers, pressing himself against Gerard. "I want you."

Gerard runs a hand up and down Frank's back soothingly, tilting his head down so that their foreheads touch. "I know," he replies. "I want you, too." Frank leans in to kiss him again, but Gerard angles his head away, pushing Frank back gently. "But I've still got an entire estate's worth of slaves to free, and they've had to wait long enough already."

Frank draws back at that. "Of course. I wasn't thinking."

Gerard kisses him lightly, chastely. "Later," he says, and it sounds like half a promise and half a question.

Frank nods, kissing Gerard once more before he pulls away. "Later."

Frank doesn't see Gerard for the rest of the day. After a few more hours of sitting alone in the bedroom, he feels restless, so he goes for a walk.

It occurs to him, suddenly, that he could leave if he wanted. Just walk out of the house, no destination in mind, and see where he ends up. He won't, of course; for the time being, he has no desire to be anywhere but near Gerard, and he has no idea what he'd do for money or food or a place to stay. But if he wanted to leave and take his chances, he could, and no one could stop him.

Instead, he goes looking for Ray, and eventually finds him outside. All work's been suspended, and the slaves--former slaves, Frank corrects himself--are sitting or standing around in groups, talking amongst themselves. Frank finds Ray sitting beneath a small cluster of trees with a man he remembers from the last time he was out here, the one called Bryar. Frank joins them, and the conversation turns toward what each of them plans to do now.

"I'm staying, at least for a while," Bryar says, nodding towards the fields. "The harvest isn't going to bring itself in. Gerard offered to pay those of us who stay. Maybe if I can save up some money, I'll see what I can make of myself elsewhere, but this is as good a place to start as any."

"I'll probably stay, as well," Ray says. "Gerard and Michael are both good men, but neither of them is ready to run this estate yet, I can tell you that."

He glances at Frank, who shrugs. "I still don't know what to do with myself yet--it seems like the best thing to do for now is keep up with my education, see where that takes me." He glances back toward the house, smiling a little. "I'm staying."

Frank doesn't get back to the bedroom until late that evening. When he does, Gerard is there, curled on his side on the bed, fully clothed, and fast asleep. Frank doesn't even think about waking him, just slips off his shoes and climbs onto the bed. He fits himself against Gerard's back, sliding one arm around his waist, and Gerard makes a low, pleased noise and covers Frank's hand with his own. It feels easy, lying here like this, natural. Right. Frank presses his face against the back of Gerard's neck, lets out a breath, and closes his eyes.

When Frank wakes up, Gerard's face is the first thing he sees. He's propped up on one elbow, looking down at Frank.

"You're still here," Gerard says in a faintly wondering tone.

"Where else would I be?" Frank asks.

Gerard gives a faint shrug. "Anywhere you want to be."

Frank smiles up at him. "Exactly."

Gerard returns the smile, leaning down to kiss Frank's forehead. "I'd say good morning," he murmurs, "but it's already past noon."

"Really?" Frank asks. "I can't remember the last time I slept that long."

"Neither can I." Gerard lifts a hand to stroke Frank's hair back, tucking it behind his ear. "I didn't realize how much I needed it. Michael and Ray had to practically force me to go to bed last night."

Frank smiles and then inches a little closer, glancing up at Gerard from under his eyelashes. "And what are my chances of keeping you here a bit longer?" he asks.

"I told them to come get me if there are any emergencies," Gerard tells him, and then puts his hand on Frank's waist, leaning in. "But only if it's an emergency."

Gerard initiates the kiss this time, gentle, but not tentative. Frank reaches up with one hand, running his fingers through Gerard's hair and sighing into his mouth. They stay like that for a few moments, just kissing--only there's no "just" about it, Frank can feel it all the way down to his toes, all over his body. His skin feels hot and too tight, like he's going to burst, but he doesn't want it to stop.

Eventually, Gerard draws back enough to look at Frank, sliding his hand down until his fingers creep under the hem of Frank's shirt.

"If I do anything you don't like, or you want to slow down, or stop, anything...I want you to tell me, all right?"

Frank nods, meeting his eyes. "All right."

Gerard undresses him slowly, carefully, like he's afraid Frank's going to change his mind at any second. When he uncovers the scars on Frank's ribcage, he stops suddenly, staring down at the marks on Frank's skin and ghosting his fingers over them before snatching his hand away.

"They don't hurt," Frank assures him, thinking Gerard might be worried about that. Gerard looks up at him, his expression hard to read, and then leans down to kiss him.

"I just wish there were some way I could undo the past," he whispers against Frank's mouth. "Keep anyone from ever hurting you, or keep you from having to remember it."

"You can't," Frank tells him matter-of-factly. "But you can give me something better to remember."

Gerard looks at him for a moment and then moves down on the bed, pressing his mouth to one of the scars. Frank arches up against him, gasping, and reaches one hand down to cradle the back of Gerard's head and hold him there. Gerard kisses another scar, and another, and then moves away, his lips following the line of Frank's hip and the curve of his belly before trailing upward. He covers one of Frank's nipples with his mouth, sucking gently, and Frank arches again, letting out a strangled cry. He tugs at Gerard's clothing, wanting to feel bare skin against his own, to make Gerard feel the way he does.

Gerard sits back on his heels, fumbling impatiently with his buttons. Frank does his best to help without getting in the way, and between the two of them, they make short work of Gerard's clothing. Frank pulls him down again instantly, running his hands over the smooth, pale skin of Gerard's shoulders while Gerard kisses him breathless. Frank can feel Gerard's cock pressing against his hip, hard and hot, and he squirms against Gerard restlessly, wanting things he's not sure how to ask for.

"Gerard--" he begins, and then breaks off.

"What?" Gerard whispers, stroking his hair back and kissing his ear. "What do you want?"

"You," Frank gasps, and fumbles for Gerard's hand, bringing it down between his legs. Gerard wraps his fingers around Frank's cock, stroking gently, and Frank shudders and cries out softly, but that's not what he was aiming for. He grabs Gerard's wrist, guiding his hand further back, and he sees Gerard's eyes widen as he finally understands. "I want you."

"Are you--are you sure?" Gerard asks, desire and caution warring in his eyes. "I don't want to hurt you, Frank."

Frank nods, looking him straight in the eye. "This is what I want," he says softly.

Gerard looks at him for a long moment, and then reaches up to cup Frank's face in both hands, kissing him hard.

Frank pulls away reluctantly after a few seconds, whispering "Wait," and then sliding off the bed. There are some bottles of scented oil in the bath--more decorative than anything, Gerard never bothers with them--and he takes one back to the bed with him, pressing it into Gerard's hand. He scoots back further on the bed, so that he's propped up a little on the pillows, and Gerard waits for him to get settled before he pours a little oil on his fingers and reaches between Frank's legs.

Frank hisses a little at the first press of Gerard's fingers but gasps out "Don't stop," when Gerard hesitates. Gerard presses in a little further, slow and cautious, and Frank clenches his teeth against the familiar burn and waits until he feels himself relax, until Gerard's fingers find a place that makes him gasp in pleasure instead of pain.

"All right?" Gerard asks softly, and withdraws his fingers when Frank nods. He nudges Frank's legs further apart and urges him to lift his hips, sliding his knees under Frank's thighs. He pauses, drawing in a deep breath, and then presses forward slowly.

Frank lets his eyes flutter closed, tipping his head back against the pillows. Gerard withdraws a little and then pushes in again, and Frank rocks forward to meet him. They move like that for a little while, gentle and easy, settling into a rhythm.

Gerard bends forward a little awkwardly, lowering himself onto his elbows and scattering kisses across Frank's face. He's talking, too low and rapid for Frank to catch all of it, half-formed praise and endearments and words that don't make much sense in a tone that makes their meaning perfectly clear. Frank's fingers are twisted in the sheets, but he lets go and brings his arms up and around Gerard, trying to put everything he wants to say back into a kiss because he's not sure he could speak right now.

Gerard comes to his end first, his thrusts coming harder and faster. He pushes himself up suddenly, bracing himself with a hand on either side of Frank's head, and lets out a short, sharp cry as his hips snap forward once, twice, and when he comes, Frank can feel it.

Part of Frank expects it to be over then--it's what he's used to--but Gerard reaches down and wraps a hand around his cock. Frank's already close to the edge, wound up so tight it feels like he's about to snap, and between Gerard's hand and Gerard still inside him, it only takes a moment to send him over the edge, gasping raggedly and clinging to Gerard's shoulders.

Gerard cleans them both up with a loose corner of the sheets, pushing Frank down gently when he tries to help and hushing his half-formed protests. With that done, he settles down beside Frank and pulls him close, kissing him so gently, and Frank just lies there, letting Gerard hold him and stroke his hair and care for him.

He's half-asleep when it occurs to him that they ought to talk at some point, about what happens next. All Frank wants right now is to stay with Gerard; he knows that that's not all Gerard wants for him, and that there are things to think about, choices to be made. But for now, the only place he'd choose to be is in Gerard's arms, so he burrows further into them and closes his eyes, letting himself rest for a while.