Slow Burn 1/2 (The A-Team - Movie - Circus!AU)
Title: Slow Burn (Movie-verse Circus!AU)
Rating: R
Pairing: Face/Murdock, but we go through Murdock/OMCs and mentions of Face/OFCs before we get there.
Word Count: 11,684
Summary: It took years of running before Murdock was finally able to find his way home.
Warning: Homophobic language, child abuse, mental health issues, violence and sex.
Author's Note: For purrslink for the a_tsecretsanta fic exchange.
Murdock's back story/Part one of the Outside Looking In 'Verse.
All circus lingo definitions are at the end of the story.
People don’t just join the circus…they run away with it, usually leaving something significant behind.
#####
1995 - Tyler, Texas
An accident.
He’d tried to explain but the words had just kept sliding and slithering away in the confusion. Not that the police were interested in his stuttering, stunted excuse when faced with two naked men, one of who had blood pouring out of his nose.
Shaking his head hard he tried to get things to rattle back into place. When it didn’t work he brushed bangs that woulda made his Gramma weep out of his eyes so he could stare at the dingy cell wall.
He should have seen it coming but sometimes he wanted to at least pretend he was a normal 22 year old. Where the only thing he should have been worried about was whether or not he’d be getting laid after heading home from the bar. That was so much easier than the fact he’d been awake for three days and if he moved too fast people and things would go all whirly.
Instead of paying attention to pinwheel people, he’d focused on Nick.
Nick with the million dollar smile and Boston accent that was damn near exotic to his Texan ears. The accent that’d sent shivers down his spine and scattered all thoughts but one when the blond had leaned close and whispered, “Take me home.”
It’d been worth it with Nick panting and grinding against him and just as much, if not more so afterward when he’d finally fallen into a sated slumber. Only sleep hadn’t lasted long before he was pulled to consciousness by the other man’s shocked and pained shouts.
“Murdock!”
The sheer volume of the bellow snapped him out of his head and back to the even more pressing problem of how to get out of spending another night locked up. He watched as the big-bellied deputy started around the corner, talking to someone like they were at a Sunday picnic instead of the Smith County Jail.
“Fuck.” He muttered when a distinctive laugh rang out and the deep, false sound of it made his stomach drop. Granddad. It figured that over 200 miles and four hours away he was still so easily within the old man’s reach.
He feigned disinterest even as his heart slammed against his ribcage when his Granddad stepped to the bars with the long suffering sigh reserved for his only grandchild.
“Boy, didn’t you hear your name? Get up off that bench. You better be glad that young man decided to drop the charges.”
‘So glad.’ He thought. And as Milton Brown sneered down at him he knew full well it had more to do with money exchanging hands than any sort of understanding.
“You need to quit all this mess.” Milton ordered.
Tired and still a bit wobbly he stared at the old man defiantly. “What? The cock or the crazy?”
“H.M. Murdock, don’t you dare…”
He smiled; a wide and off-kilter thing as his Granddad went purple with barely checked rage. Before H.M. could make it worse by telling him he looked good in the shade, his Granddad spoke, low and dangerous.
“We’re gonna do this one of two ways. You either come home with me or you’re going back to Meridian.”
Just the name knocked the breath of out him and the smile off his face.
H.M. tried not to shake as sense memory kicked in, the sour smell of the hospital’s halls immediately thick in his nose. “No. No. I’ll come home.”
His Granddad nodded as he called to the deputy. “Hey Earl, come let my boy outta here, wouldya?”
#####
By the time they’d reached the sprawling Richmond ranch house he’d grown up in, H.M. knew he wasn’t going to stay. The hours of the drive with his Granddad telling him exactly what he was going to do from here on out had cemented that decision with absolute finality.
That night he’d sat in his childhood bedroom, waiting for the last of the lights to go out before he grabbed the bag from under the bed.
“I’m sorry.” He muttered as he passed the bureau with the pictures of his Gramma and Mama placed so reverently on top.
H.M. didn’t know where he was going as he quietly headed out into the crisp, fall, Texas night. But knowing that wherever he ended up would ultimately be his choice, made it easier.
#####
2002 - Amarillo, Texas
“H.M., wake up.”
He tried holding onto the remnants of the first good sleep he’d had in ages but nope, the voice was gonna keep on trying to snatch it away.
“Wake up.” The voice appeared to have called in reinforcements as a shove followed.
“Cinco minutos más y me levantaré para la escuela.” Five more minutes and I’ll get up for school. His plea turning into a groan when cool air hit bare skin as the covers were hijacked and the phone was thrust at him.
“This is not my house! Michael, don’t you dare give me your phone!” The protest was futile as his traitorous hand gripped the offending object as the other man rolled over.
“H.M. Murdock?”
“Depends.” Holding the receiver to his ear he reached out with his unoccupied hand to tug some of the blanket back from his bedmate’s body. “Does he owe you money?”
“Mr. Murdock, my name’s Crawford Chase. My law firm Dawson, Dixon and Chase is here in Richmond. We’ve been trying to track you down. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you but your grandfather passed away three months ago. I’m calling because we need you to come in so the estate can be properly settled.”
At the words, the edges of the room went blurry and he pressed fingers hard against his eyes hoping to sharpen things back up.
“No, you definitely have the wrong guy.” The words sounded foreign and distant, even as he felt himself swallow around them.
The man on the line sighed. “Mr. Murdock, I understand…”
“You don’t understand anything.” He snapped, voice edging towards panic. “Give it all to Aunt Bernice. I don’t want any of it.” Hanging up he took a shaky breath before opening his eyes to see Michael sitting and staring at him warily.
‘Oh, I knew the Why did I let this crazy man in my bed? look would make an appearance sooner or later.’
“What’s going on?” Michael asked.
“Nothing…Nothing.” Murdock turned away, needing to focus on something, anything that wasn’t the man beside him. His gaze frantically bounced around the room till it fell on the bright red paper sticking out of the back pocket of the shorts lying on the floor.
“What is it?” Michael’s hand on his arm sent him jumping to his feet.
“I need to go.” He yanked on the cargos and a t-shirt as he shoved clothes in his duffel, all the while refusing to even glance at the bed.
“Go? What do you mean go?”
“Go. Run along. Split. Vamoose.” He made a shooing motion as he grabbed the last of his gear from the corner and finally looked up.
“You’re just gonna take off?” Michael sat unmoving, face etched with bewilderment.
“That’s kinda what it means.” Murdock saw the incomprehension in dark eyes turn to anger as he started to leave the room.
“Are you kidding me? Six months you’ve been laying around my house…”
Slinging the bags over his shoulder, Murdock hurried out the front door and away from Michael’s ranting that could still be vaguely heard as he took the porch steps two at a time.
He jogged to the bus stop around the corner, taking the flyer out of his pocket as he dropped his stuff to the ground.
Always on the lookout for new jobs, escapes, he’d immediately pulled the bright circus announcement off the laundry mat’s bulletin board when he saw it last week. Seven years of traveling, running, all over the state of Texas and the possibility of going further had called to him so strongly, even when he knew he wouldn’t actually go.
“Your grandfather passed away…”
Except now he would.
Murdock laughed sharply and the woman standing next to him gave him the side eye.
Miles, years and now death between them and the old man still managed to be the main motivating factor in his life.
He could do this. Leaving the state was the only way for him to fully break free and The Burress Brothers’ Circus was his one chance.
#####
Taking a deep breath, Murdock transferred the weight of his hastily packed and near bursting bags as he stood on the steps of the trailer he’d been point towards when he asked about jobs. He took one last look at the flyer then knocked.
The door flung open with such force that Murdock had to take a step back to avoid being hit.
“What?” The dark haired man with piercing blue eyes growled.
“Looking for Mr. Burress.” Murdock held out the paper, now crumpled and sweat stained from how tightly he’d clutched it in his fist. “Said y’all are looking for performers.”
“Mr. Burress?” With a nasty laugh the man turned for a moment back into the trailer. “This asshole’s looking for Mr. Burress.” He eyed Murdock’s chaotic appearance. “I’m the manager of this circus. You want a job, you come through me.”
“Ok then Mr. …”
“Pike.” The man stared at him with unveiled annoyance.
“Well then Mr. Pike. Yes, I want a job with this here fine circus of yours.” Murdock continued, voice intentionally falling into a heavy drawl that drew a sneer from the manager.
“What do you do?”
Murdock smiled, letting a little more crazy than usual peek through. The end result exactly as planned when it wiped the smugness off Pike’s face.
#####
The midday Texas sun beat down hot and bright as Murdock stood in the middle of the circus’ back yard. He pulled off his cap, shirt following as someone let out a whistle that he’d curtsied to before placing his hat on backwards.
A small crowd grew as he bent down to pull torches and fuel out of his duffel, laying them on the ground in an almost ordered sense of disarray.
“Get on with it. Do I look like I have all day?” Pike grumbled from the sidelines.
Holding an unlit torch in his hand, Murdock gave a wordless bow in the manager’s direction. A sudden flick of his wrist and a downward breath had fire reflecting off the ground before he’d even come up from the gesture.
From there Murdock ran smoothly through his routine, from small fireballs to fire straight up into the air with the Volcano. But Pike remained indifferent even as each new trick drew a response from the crowd.
“I’m gonna need a volunteer for this one.” Murdock said, inspecting the people around him as he wiped the excess fuel from his mouth with a water dampened cloth. He grinned as a tall, good-looking man jogged up, pulling a t-shirt over his head as he whispered to the girl next to him.
“You! Faceman! Come gimme a hand.” Murdock pointed and Gorgeous looked to either side of himself. ‘Ah, the pretty ones always are a little slow.’
“Yes, sir, you. Can you move out of the way so the other obscenely attractive man can get through?” Murdock saw him start to turn red as the crowd chuckled, Pike for once joining in, though more at the man’s discomfort than anything else.
“Come on. Come on. Hustle. Don’t you see me up here trying to get a job?” People moved out of the way as Murdock waved him forward.
“What do you do?” The fire-eater asked as he took in the long limbs and lean muscle that went with the handsome visage. “Wait…wait. Don’t tell me. Jo-Jo, the dog-faced boy?”
“Trapeze.” The man quickly responded, giving no more room for jokes at his appearance’s expense.
‘Of course.’ Murdock nodded. “What’s your name?”
“Temp.”
Another wolf whistle came from the crowd and the aerialist flipped a bird in the offender’s direction.
“That short for anything?”
The question pulled another blush from the performer before he answered. “Templeton.”
“Ah, yeahhhh. I think we’re just gonna stick with Faceman. I’m H.M.” Murdock held out his hand, fingertips alight. “Oh, sorry about that.” He winked, then put fingers one by one in his mouth, effectively extinguishing them as the crowd laughed.
“Alright. Now that we’re friends and all. Do you trust me?” The fire-eater lit a torch with his still fiery thumb before popping the digit into his mouth.
“Trust you? I don’t even know you.” Temp gave an uncomfortable laugh.
“Fair enough. Wanna let me try it anyways?” He grinned as the aerialist suspiciously stared at him, but then an over-exaggerated wag of eyebrows from Murdock had a smile breaking out.
“Why not?” Temp shrugged.
“Jolly good, ol’ chap!” Murdock cheered in a thick British accent as he clapped the taller man on the shoulder.
“This is what we’re gonna do.” The fire-eater slowly ran the lit torch up his own right arm to the very edge of his huge burning phoenix tattoo. “Now your turn.” Murdock held the torch out towards the other man.
“You’re crazy.”
Murdock felt his body tense at the phrase but the light tone and good-natured chuckle from the aerialist told him it hadn’t been meant maliciously.
“Oh, good! Then my file was sent over ahead of me.” The fire-eater hastily joked to cover his discomfort.
#####
“So?” Murdock pulled his cap off, ruffling sweaty hair before righting the hat.
Pike looked at him like he’d rather be licking the underside of an elephant’s foot and then sighed grudgingly. “You bring your own stuff. Don’t have a trailer? You’re sleeping outside. Come by later to fill out paperwork.”
“Awesome.” Beaming, Murdock went in for a shake but without a glance the manager just walked away.
“Don’t worry about him. He’s a dick.”
Murdock turned, gasping in mock surprise as he faced the aerialist from earlier. “No! But he seemed so pleasant.”
He held his hand up, waggling unlit fingers before putting it towards his inflammistic guinea pig. “H.M. Murdock. Thanks for the help.”
The other man smiled as he took his hand. “Temp Peck. No worries. Do you have stuff waiting for you?”
“Nope, got it all right here.” Murdock patted the full to the brim duffels.
“First circus?” Temp questioned as he deftly stepped out of the path of a clown on a very wobbly unicycle. “Watch it, Walker.” He called out before returning his attention to the fire-eater.
“Ah, traveling, yes. I usually work with fairs and circuses that come to town.” Murdock replied as they started down the small through-way between the tents.
The aerialist nodded as he ran a hand over the nape of his neck. “We’ve got a bit before show time; I can take you around, if you want.”
“Sounds like a plan. Lead the way, kind sir.”
As Murdock started to shift both bags for better leverage, Temp pulled one away and flung it over his shoulder with a smile. “Come on. We’ll drop these off at my place first.”
#####
Murdock could write a list a mile long about all the things that made him like doing what he did. But his number one answer always stayed the same. No one ever asked you or in some cases even acknowledged life before.
He didn’t have to worry about making up lies or excuses. There was never any reason to talk of hospitals and the ECTs that lurked around their dark corners. No one needed to know about being sent away from his family all those years ago. Or that the same family once again had him bolting.
No, Temp was content asking about safe things like places the fire-eater had been and other circuses he’d worked with as people rushed around their leisurely pace.
As they passed ring stock cages filled with tigers and made way for elephants to pass, their conversation only halted whenever the aerialist would reach a long arm out to hook someone in for a more proper introduction. Murdock noticed on more than one occasion the pleased expression of both parties if the someone happened to be female.
“Amy! Amy, I want you to meet our new fire-eater.”
The tall, thin young woman with dark hair in a messy ponytail let out a surprised yelp as she was pulled in their direction, the swift action causing the container in her hand to slip.
“Templeton Peck, you ass.” She groaned as it fell upended on the ground.
“Sorry! Sorry!” He held up his hands in apology before narrowing his eyes. “Wait… how come you didn’t see that happening?”
Murdock watched with amusement as the skeptical look the aerialist gave the woman turned to one of shock when she punched him in the arm.
“Ow. Damn.” He whined, rubbing the spot.
“Aba-daba. It clouds my vision, especially when it’s Ella’s peach cobbler. Now go get me some more. You know she only gives out one helping because it goes so fast.” Amy smiled as Murdock tried to cover up a snicker with a poorly placed cough. “I’ll keep our newest addition company.”
“How am I supposed to get some for myself then?” Temp winked in Murdock’s direction before giving Amy the world’s most pitiful, wounded look.
“That face most certainly doesn’t work on me, but I’m sure it’ll do wonders on Ella. Get extra!” She shouted as Temp trotted off with a laugh.
“He’ll be right back; it’s just around the corner.” She pointed before putting a hand out. “Amy Allen.”
“H.M. Murdock.” He laughed and returned the gesture. “You’ve got to work with the cats, the way you had him jumping.”
She frowned for the barest of seconds before turning it into a bright smile. “Oh, no I leave the cats to Charissa. I’m more of a people handler.”
“People handler?”
“Yep.” She flipped his palm up and exaggeratedly peered at it.
“Ah. That’s what you meant by visions.” Murdock glanced over Amy’s shoulder and caught sight of Temp approaching with more than one box. “Ok then. How much cobbler did he get?”
“Five…no, wait, four. He ate one before he even left the cook shack.” She said without hesitation before turning around.
“Don’t believe any of the stories she’s telling about me. Unless it’s the bear wrestling one, that’s totally true.” The aerialist chuckled as he held up four containers.
“Nice. It tasted a little weird last month. Does it taste any better this time?” Amy innocently questioned.
“As good as it always…what?” He looked at the pair in confusion as Murdock turned to Amy and started clapping
“Bravo, my lady.”
She smiled knowingly and took two containers from the puzzled aerialist before walking off with a wave.
“What was that?”
“The second most interesting introduction of the day.” The fire-eater grinned as the taller man gave him one of the remaining boxes.
#####
Austin was Murdock’s first stop when he’d left Richmond. It had been closer to his Granddad then he would have liked but he hadn’t intended to be there long.
That was until he’d seen Christian in Brush Square.
Short, stocky and covered in tattoos, the man had held the crowd around him, including Murdock, captive with his seemingly easy manipulation of dangerous fire.
H.M. had noticed the steady amount of money that’d gone into the box at the fire-eater’s feet. But the fire as it was slowly dragged up the performer’s arm had intrigued him more, the act causing goosebumps to sprout on his own.
Murdock had shuffled awkwardly on the curb until people started to move on. Waiting until the corner was almost completely empty to nervously approach the fire-eater as he packed his gear.
“Can you teach me?”
He had stayed. Learning not only all that Christian could teach him about fire handling, but how to take the first tentative steps from under his Granddad’s oppressive shadow.
There’d been nights that their tip boxes overflowed with money, just as there’d been ones with barely more than when they’d set out. The mornings spent laughingly trying to teach Christian the simple basics of an omelet and the afternoons on the patio with his legs tucked under himself as he rolled coins had loosened the knot in his stomach that Murdock had once believed a permanent fixture.
One evening Christian had come into the kitchen, grinning ear to ear as he dropped a kiss against the edge of the still healing tattoo on Murdock’s arm.
“Ever been to Arkansas?”
“No. Why? What’s there?” He’d turned from the simmering pot as Christian, thrumming with excitement hopped onto the counter.
“The circus that wants to hire me. Well, it’s not there now but that’s where they’re going at the end of the week.”
“Oh.” Murdock had tried to smile but it’d felt more like a grimace, a fact that’d been confirmed when Christian’s face fell.
“You don’t wanna go?” He’d run a hand through short, dark hair as Murdock opened his mouth to respond.
No. No. He didn’t.
For days after there had been pleading and shouting and finally resignation as Murdock zipped up his bags.
“I can’t.” He’d said, barely above a whisper against the shell of Christian’s ear before leaving.
Murdock had been in Austin for eight months and had learned a lot about himself. What he was capable of and what he wanted to do. As his bus pulled out of town there’d been one more. He could not, would not let anyone, even a well-meaning lover, take away the choice of where and when, if he wanted go.
From there he’d roamed almost every corner of the large state of Texas, staying in one place only a few short weeks or the very rare couple of months. Drawing people to him with fire, in downtown squares and local fairs. Working with the mud shows that came through town and most of the time beating them to the county line.
Murdock had enjoyed the freedom to come and go as he pleased, even if that meant he’d occasionally have to sleep in the same park he’d performed in or there’d be days with no food.
Every single bit had been worth it.
Although now, standing in the Burress Brothers’ Big Top with the Ringmaster’s voice booming over the mic as one act after another took the center ring, Murdock saw how steady life with a circus could draw someone in.
He soaked up the excitement of the crowd-filled tent as the clowns tumbled and vaulted through their gag to the soundtrack of cheering laughter.
The way the audience gasped and held its collective breath as Charissa moved around the arena. The trainer just as fiercely beautiful as the Big Cats she so easily controlled.
He watched from the back door as the aerial troupe took to the trapeze. Gracefully arcing and twisting, their bodies flying through the air with perfect fluidity and coordination born of years of constant training. Murdock’s gaze locked on Temp, the muscles in the aerialist’s toned arms and back on display with each roll and flip before he was caught in the catcher’s expert grasp.
“Anna’s silk performance is amazing.” Temp had told him as they walked the lot earlier.
“Amazing doesn’t even come close.” Murdock thought, transfixed by the woman’s spiraling form. Every roll and drop wrapped pure white silk around her equally pale body as fiery red tendrils of hair strategically cascaded around her face.
As Anna’s spin slowed, Murdock found that even with all of the circus’ over-stimulation, his brain’s constant buzzing was silent for the first time in ages.
#####
“You can stay with me until you get on your feet...”
Murdock had been dozing, propped against the door of Temp’s old F-150 but the offer brought him to full wakefulness.
He’d gotten so caught up in the performances and the bustling process of getting the show down the highway to New Mexico afterward that he hadn’t even thought about where he’d stay.
Finding a place to sleep had never been a problem while he traveled. He’d floated from couches and beds to floors and benches, even a hammock during one stay in Lubbock.
He now realized that ironically, with the circus, he’d have to have a more stable residence. Something he hadn’t needed or wanted in years.
There was money and more than enough to buy a trailer and vehicle immediately. But he didn’t want any part of it.
Shortly after being released from the hospital, his Aunt Bernice had made sure he’d always have money to fall back on. Just in case his Granddad decided to cut him off once again. It had been his lifeline from when he was 20 until he walked out of his family home for the last time, promising then to never use the account again.
Two years ago he’d been stuck in Lindale with the very last of his money being used to take care of a broken foot. After two days of no food and the pain pills meant to be taken with meals burning holes in his empty stomach, he’d caved. Seeing a bank branch he’d gone in and checked the account, finding it full of 5 years worth of monthly deposits still being made by his Aunt.
At hearing the amount though, he’d turned to leave, the confused teller calling after him. He’d set up that afternoon at the local arts market instead, making enough money for food and a ticket out of town.
No matter if Aunt Bernice handled it or not, it was still Granddad’s money.
“I mean… if you want. The couch is small but it’s honestly not bad.”
Temp’s tone was slightly embarrassed and Murdock caught that his long silence had been taken as a refusal.
“No, no! It’s great! Thanks.” Murdock answered Temp’s sheepish grin with a mischievous smile. “Though, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to fit all of my stuff inside. I mean, I’ve got the 55” TV, the 8 person hot tub…and I’ve really got my eye on one of the elephants I saw this afternoon.”
“What? Dude, no. No elephants. I’m not cleaning that up.” The awkwardness fell away from the aerialist’s body as he shook his head and chuckled.
And as he joined in with his own laughter, Murdock became certain that leaving Amarillo had been the right decision.
#####
Growing up Murdock had been the kid who was always bursting at the seams with barely contained energy. Easily excitable and once he got going, it was hard to calm him down. Rare was it that something would keep his attention, but when it did, he practically absorbed whatever it was.
Books, TV shows, ideas (I wanna be a pilot when I grow up). He’d talk to anyone, even if they didn’t want to hear, until he was blue in the face.
Teachers didn’t know what to do with him. Other kids had a hard time accepting him. Weirdo. Freak. His Granddad, with his lack of tolerance and nasty temper, definitely didn’t know how to handle him.
But his Gramma always knew. Knew that to listen and lovingly engage his often wild ramblings would soothe his over-active, racing mind. As he got older she was the only one that could reach through and lift him out when walls closed in around him.
His Gramma had been the one steady, patient person in his life and when she passed away when he was 18, he hadn’t been able to cope. His grief only magnified by his Granddad, who believed the answer was to shout at and shake him when the boy lashed out in the dark. To yank and pull at him when for days H.M. couldn’t get off his bed; couldn’t stop crying.
“They’ll get you right. Fix everything you got wrong with you. Then you can come home.” His Granddad’s voice has been as detached as if he was talking about taking out the evening trash, not abandoning his own daughter’s son at a mental hospital.
Two years later, when he’d been allowed to leave Meridian and the fog of too many medications had lifted, H.M. swore to his Granddad that he’d do better. Time after time he promised but he always failed, bringing more anger from the old man, more threats. Until he’d finally come to see that nothing he could do would ever be right, so he stopped.
Stopped trying to please his Granddad and stopped hoping that he’d ever find someone as understanding as his Gramma.
After experiencing his first long day of circus set up in Santa Fe, Murdock tiredly begged off the invitation to join other performers that night as they sat around the fire laughing and drinking. It had felt good being able to jump in and work wherever needed but it was also exhausting and sleep had started to beckon. And that was a rare call that Murdock didn’t like to miss.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Temp got up and with an arm slung securely around the fire-eater’s shoulder, steered him back to the group.
“For just a little bit.” Murdock conceded to himself as the aerialist grinned and handed him a beer.
The coercions continued after every show and Murdock soon found his reluctance fading into anticipation. Wanting to be able to try and convince Ray, the aerial troupe’s catcher, that it was perfectly safe to let him light the fire with a couple Pops.
Or laughing along as Temp was teased for how effortlessly he’d taken to the moniker of Faceman.
The response of “Well…I mean it’s not like I can deny it.” drawing friendly jeers and sending plastic cups flying in his direction.
And speaking of Face...Murdock found himself so at ease with the aerialist that there were times he had to rein his brain in as it shouted, “Something’s wrong!”
“No. It’s good for once.”
Over miles and months the pair became almost inseparable, much to the chagrin and sometimes woes of those around them.
Like the food fight that’d erupted when Face pointed out the structural issues with Murdock’s pea palace, one lunch in Phoenix.
The violent war was brought to a standstill only after Face ducked Murdock’s potato catapult and Ella had become collateral damage as she picked up empty trays. They’d been banned from the cook shack for three cities with a growl of, “Like five year olds.” as the usually calm cook wiped Idaho Spuds out of her hair. It would have been longer but Face had miraculously sweet talked their way back in.
Face would sit next to Murdock around the fire and sing along, horribly, with the only song the fire-eater could play on the guitar that’d materialized somewhere along the route. The aerialist’s further butchering of the already painful sounding tune would have them both in tears by the time someone begged them to stop, which would only make their laughter worse.
As the night wore on they’d tumble towards Face’s Scamp, sometimes drunk, others in fits of manly giggles, where they’d continue with whatever ridiculous topic most assuredly one of the two had begun outside.
“Why’d you decide to become a traveling performer?” In Des Moines, the aerialist asked as he fell onto the couch next to his friend.
The change in subject definitely didn’t have the fire-eater snickering. He much rather preferred the earlier theme of ‘Creepiest but best lay you’ve ever had.’
“You really didn’t think you’d be able to get away from that, did you?” Murdock didn’t say anything, just stared at his hands until Face nudged him with his foot.
“Hey. No. It’s cool, bud. I was just wondering.”
Murdock looked up at his friend’s open, honest expression and sighed. “I didn’t have anything else to do.”
Face smiled, not ‘Is that right?’ but ‘I know.’ before answering, “Foster care. I was 15 when took off with the shittiest Dog and Pony Show to ever come through town. It was horrible. But still better...”
The blood pulsing in Murdock’s ears was loud but his voice even more so as he spoke. “Because you chose to go.”
“Exactly!” The aerialist exclaimed and with a rush of relief, Murdock found maybe he didn’t mind questions so much, as long as they came from Face.
#####
While all the other little boys in his third grade class had their sights set on their teacher, Ms. North, Murdock was hopelessly smitten with Deek, his Granddad’s foreman. Tall and hard work rugged, Deek didn’t mind the boy being underfoot. Though inquisitive, he knew when to stay out of the way.
The man would show H.M. how things worked around the ranch, letting him help with small tasks when possible.
As soon as the school bus dropped him off Murdock would throw his stuff down and bolt out of the house so he could follow Deek all over their 200 acres.
“I’m gonna marry Ms. North when I get bigger.” Jimmy Wortham proudly announced one day at lunch.
“I’m gonna marry Deek and we can work the ranch together.” H.M. had stated before taking a bite of his sandwich.
The other little boy’s face contorted. “You can’t marry a boy if you’re a boy! You can only marry girls.”
H.M. wasn’t gonna take Jimmy Wortham’s word for it, so that night at the dinner table as the potatoes were being passed, he asked his grandparents.
“Can boys marry boys?”
The clatter of his Granddad’s utensils was like a shot as he reached out and grabbed H.M.’s arm.
“What’re you asking that queer question for, boy?”
He winced, knowing better than to try and pull away from the old man’s tight grip. “I…I just wanted to know.”
“Milton let him go.” His Gramma said gently, even as she gave H.M. a slight look that’d he’d never seen from her before.
“Ain’t having no fairy under my roof, Maggie.” Milton growled as he released his grandson.
The next afternoon H.M. didn’t go in search of Deek. In fact, he stayed far away from the foreman every day after until the man moved on to other employment a couple years later.
It hadn’t been a hard choice.
H.M. had grown used to withering looks from his Granddad but never wanted to do to see even the smallest amount of disappointment directed his way from his Gramma again.
“Are you sure you’re feeling ok, buddy? You don’t look too good.”
At the voice Murdock cracked open watery, achy eyes and huffed. “We can’t all be pretty like you, Faceman.”
“Shut up. You look like shit.” Face placed a hand on the fire-eater’s brow and Murdock sighed at the cool contact. “You’re burning up. I’ll tell Pike you’re taking the night off.”
“Nope. I got this.” Murdock attempted to pull upright on the couch, but only succeeded in making himself dizzy.
“Bullshit. Lay down.”
“O.k. maybe just for a bit.” Murdock relented and instantly fell asleep again.
“No! I don’t want them.” He struggled as pills were thrust at him. “No. No. They make it all fuzzy.”
“Murdock! Hey, hey. Buddy, relax. It’s Motrin… for the fever.”
Buddy.
“Face?” He croaked, finally recognizing his friend’s worried face.
“Yeah.” A relieved smile was given before sweaty bangs were swept off his forehead and fingers carded through hair, soothing circles against his scalp.
The tender gesture had something tingling in the back of Murdock’s fevered mind but he was too tired to grasp for it.
So he slept.
By the time they were heading out of Kansas City days later, the fire-eater was over the worst of the flu. With his temperature down and the aches dissipating, Face’s constant hovering eased. And that’s what concerned Murdock. Not his friend’s attention but his own disappointment that it was gone.
“Shit.”
#####
It wasn’t like Murdock hadn’t noticed how disgustingly attractive Face was. You’d have to be blind not to. Even then, how much fun would sight by feel be?
Behave.
He’d admit there’d been times in the first couple of weeks that had maybe been a little trying. Face with his face and smile and body and completely unacceptable penchant for as little clothing as possible.
But having a cohort who willingly participated in his sock puppet theater around the fire eventually trumped the novelty of Templeton Peck walking around in a towel.
“Why can’t you have both?”
“Not gonna happen.” Murdock stated as the book in his hands failed to keep his attention. “Plus, he’s straight.”
“You sure?”
“Let’s see... hmmm, there’s Anna.” Face always making sure there’s a seat next to him for Murdock at meetings, meals, outings or wherever.
“And the gilly girl I had to let down easy in St. Louis, when she thought she was coming with us.” Face constantly touching him. Arm slung over his shoulder, hands on his arm, leaning against the fire-eater, even when there was more than enough space around them.
“He’s with the Bennett Sisters, right now.” He wanted you to go. “No… Bency wanted me to come.” Murdock scrunched his nose. “Literally.”
“It wouldn’t work out anyway and then it’d all be screwed.” Murdock gave a resolute nod to the empty trailer as he grabbed the newspaper lying on the counter. If he was having arguments with himself like this, finding a place of his own was way overdue.
#####
A few days later Murdock was just finishing a shower when a bang and curses signaled Face’s return to the trailer.
“Murdock!” He heard the aerialist growl as he wrapped a towel around himself and opened the bathroom door.
“Buddy, you gotta keep this shit off the floor. I’m gonna break my neck.” Face grumbled as he picked up torches and other various fire-handling paraphernalia.
“I swear I put it away. Faceman, I think you got gremlins.” Murdock chuckled as he rubbed his hair dry. “You’re gonna miss me when I’ve got my own trailer tomorrow.”
“You, yes. All of this…” Face pointed to items scattered all over the Scamp’s small interior. “No.”
As Murdock started getting dressed, Face took a piece of paper off the table and gave it a once over.
“Is this what they’re asking for?”
“Uh, huh.” Murdock answered as he pulled a t-shirt on.
Face shook his head. “They’re so trying to rip you off.”
And that’s how Murdock found himself standing in Mrs. Clara Thompson’s backyard trying to discreetly hide an enormous grin behind his palm.
“Now see, this huge dent here could really be a problem.” Face had a helpful arm around the little old lady’s shoulder as he pointed out potential issues with the Airstream and Silverado in turn.
“Oh my, I didn’t see that before.” She sweetly gazed up at Face. “I haven’t paid much attention to them since Harold passed away last year.”
“Understandable.” The aerialist’s nodded sympathetically. “We’d really like to take them off your hands but I don’t know. The price…”
“Why don’t you boys come inside for a drink and we can see what we can work out.” Mrs. Thompson offered.
“That sounds lovely.” Face answered, giving a stealthy thumbs up in Murdock’s direction.
“Yep.” The fire-eater agreed swiftly. “Just lemme take one more look around. I’ll be right there.”
An hour and one rear end squeeze from Mrs. Thompson later, the pair were back at the circus lot in Columbus. Along with the truck and trailer that’d been given to them for $1,000 less.
“I thought your eyes were gonna bug clean outta your head, Faceman.” Murdock howled with laughter as he struggled to unlatch the trailer’s stairs.
“She grabbed my ass! And you have no idea what that filthy grandma whispered in my ear that would have gotten us the whole shebang for free. She bang being the key words.” The aerialist stuttered as he tried to catch his breath.
“You mean I coulda saved all my money? I gladly woulda traded your services to Clara for that.” Murdock snickered, dodging the fist thrown his way as Face squawked indignantly.
The steps finally popped loose and Murdock wiped his hands on his shorts before delving into his pocket.
“Here take this.” The fire-eater said; thrusting the bundle of cash towards his friend.
“What? That’s yours, bud.” Face shoved his hand away. “I told you she was trying to rip you off.”
“Face.” Murdock warned, pushing it back. “You’ve spent all these months putting up with me and my mess and my snoring.”
“The snoring’s not that bad, as long as I’m asleep before you.” Face jokingly interrupted.
“And last month when I swallowed paraffin and spent the night puking…”
Face reached out and snatched the money. “Oh, yeah I totally deserve this after helping you clean that up.”
Murdock sobered. “Thank you. For everything.”
Face waved off the seriousness. “We’re friends.”
“Yeah, now. But not back in Amarillo. I was just the guy trying to set your arm on fire.” Murdock said quietly as he sat down on the steps.
For a second Face looked like he was going to spout off another joke but then his expression softened. And Murdock felt his heart rate spike when his friend stepped closer.
“Temp! There you are. I really need help with my new cloud swing routine. I’m having core issues.” Anna called out as she bounced over and Face pulled back with a self-conscious smile before glancing at the other aerialist.
“Yeah, I’ll be right there.” He put the money away then gave Murdock a look the fire-eater couldn’t decipher. “Thanks, bud.”
“Sure thing. Thanks for wooing Clara for me.” Murdock grinned, even with his cheerful tone sounding too loud in his ears. “I’ll come by tomorrow to get the rest of my stuff.”
#####
It’d been so long since he hadn’t shared a space with someone that Murdock couldn’t get used to the Airstream’s silence. He tossed and turned for hours with no sleep. Shifting around only made it worse, his movements kicking up the smell of Face from the borrowed linens. Murdock groaned and tried to ignore the erection caused by his friend’s familiar scent.
When it didn’t work he whined in defeat and slid a hand into pajama bottoms, taking hold of himself.
Not into guys. Your friend. Don’t you wanna stay… Murdock’s brain started in on all the reasons he shouldn’t, but a palm dragged over his slick cockhead, making the slide and twist down his shaft easier, erased all rational thoughts. The empty space quickly replaced by Face’s grin whenever he looked at the fire-eater, the fond lilt to his voice and how it wrapped around, changing a simple word like buddy into so much more.
Murdock gasped; hips rocking into a touch he wished wasn’t his own.
Face’s large, strong hands, calloused from years of aerial work. Their hold always warm, affectionate against the bare skin of Murdock’s arm, his nape.
“Yes, please.” Murdock stuttered into the dark. Grip tighting, stroking faster. The scent of his own arousal mixing with the smell from the loaned bedding tipped him over the edge.
Eyes slammed shut. Face’s name in his throat, on his lips as he spilled hot and wet into his own hand.
As his breathing returned to normal, the list of why it was a bad idea to think of Face in something more than a friendly manner started back up.
Murdock had finally, after all the years of running, searching, found something that felt right. That helped keep things balanced. Where failure and disappointment couldn’t creep in and send him spiraling.
No, it wasn’t worth losing.
Part Two