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By the time the carriage reaches Wethersfield, Abraham’s nerves are completely jangled. He’s used to rough country roads, but usually from atop his own horse or at the command of his own wagon. Being a passenger on a coach was far more disturbing. His legs are grateful for firm ground beneath them and he takes a moment to look around the town. It’s like many of the settlements in Connecticut, centered around a church with a village green. Rows of neat homes complete the vista. It’s easy enough to spot the schoolhouse that is the point of his visit.
Abraham straightens his hat and attends to his coat, trying to tell himself that he’s not nervous to see Benjamin again. It’s not difficult to find the superintendent's office inside the squat brick building. Abraham knocks lightly on the open door.
Benjamin Tallmadge lifts his head from the papers on his desk and tries to focus on the man in his doorway. It takes a moment before recognition kicks in. “Abe? Abraham! What are you doing here?” he asks, coming around his desk and wrapping his friend in a tight hug.
“I came to see you!” Abe says, returning the hug. It felt indescribably good to have Ben’s arms wrapped around him again. But he couldn’t let himself get distracted. “I heard a rumor about you. About what you’re planning to do,” he says when Ben releases him.
Ben’s face darkens. “Let’s not talk about it here,” he says. “Come to the tavern with me. I’ll get you a strong drink. I’m amazed you survived the carriage ride.”
“It was a near thing,” Abe confesses. He waits as Ben gathers his hat and coat, then follows him out to the street.
The walk in amiable silence through the town, and Abe watches as Ben returns the waves and smiles of the people passing by. Of course he is beloved by this community. It’s impossible not to love Ben a little after you meet him.
Inside of the tavern is dim, but Ben navigates them easily to a table in the back and gets ale for them both from the serving girl.
“So it’s true,” Abe says as soon as they are alone again. “You’re joining with the continentals.”
The girl returns with their ale, so Ben waits a moment before he answers with a simple, “I am.”
“Then you’re a damned fool,” Abe growls, taking a swig of his drink.
Ben lifts his eyebrows. “A fool am I? No more a fool than you were when you joined the New York militia.”
“Notice that I am no longer in the New York militia and have not been for some time,” Abe says, less than mildly. “Nothing awaits you in the Continental Line but death.” He softens. “Ben, please. Please don’t do this.”
“You can really sit there and ask me not to stand up and fight for the things I believe in?” Ben says. “You, of all people.”
“I don’t want you to be killed!” Abe says, low and urgent. “I don’t want to lose you like I--like I lost Thomas. You seem happy here. You’re a school superintendent, well respected and loved. Why not stay here, find a woman, start a family?”
“As you did?” Ben says, more than a trace of bitterness in his voice.
“I did what was required. For my family.”
“This is for my family, too,” Ben says, leaning forward. “How can you be so obstinate to not see that if things continue as they are that all our lives will be solely for the good of the crown? Our goods and our products will not be for us, for the betterment of our lives--”
“I don’t need the lecture,” Abraham interrupts.
“Apparently you do,” Ben says, “or you wouldn’t ask me not to fight.”
Abraham lowers his voice and leans in closer. “Ben, I’m thinking of your life. Of all the things you could accomplish. You have so much ahead of you, why throw it away in this needless conflict?”
“Precisely because the conflict isn’t needless,” Ben says. “If I die in the service of this cause, I will consider it a fair price.”
“And the people you love? The people who--who love you? What of them? Would they also consider it a fair price?”
Ben has nothing to say to that. He just sits back and drinks his ale.
….
Several hours and as many tankards of ale later, Ben and Abe stumble out of the tavern. They have their arms wrapped around each other for support as well as out of companionship.
“I have to catch the coach,” Abe slurs. “Which way is the coach?”
“You can’t go home tonight. It’s too late. You’re too drunk,” Ben says, almost breathless. “You have to stay with me. Stay in my home tonight.”
“Mary won’t like it,” Abe says.
“Mary would prefer it if you came home without a broken head. Come on. It’s this way,” Ben says, practically dragging Abe along with him.
Ben’s house is not too far off the center green. It only takes a few more stumbles to get there, though getting the door open takes longer than it strictly should. The two men nearly fall inside as the door finally swings open and they both start giggling. Ben has his arms around Abe, holding him upright while he fights for his own balance.
Abe giggles, wrapping his arms more tightly around Ben and pulling himself up, which has the effect of pulling Ben down. Their eyes meet and Ben pushes a stray strand of hair off Abe’s forehead.
“Ben…”
“Come on,” Ben says, stalling him. “The bed is this way.”
“You’ve only the one?”
“Haven’t had call for another one,” Ben says. “It’ll be like the old days.”
Abraham lifts an eyebrow, hardly daring to hope that it would actually be like the old days. Still, he follows Ben through to the simple bedroom. The bed isn’t large, hardly enough room for two people. Abe is about to protest that he can sleep elsewhere, go back to the tavern and get a bed for the night, but Ben is already stripping out of his coat and vest, his throat tantalizingly on display. Too drink addled to get any higher brain functioning to kick in, Abe follows suit, and soon both men are in nothing but their shirts. Ben gets into bed first, curling onto his side to make room.
Sliding under the blankets, Abe curls up as well, pressing his back against Ben’s chest. Ben’s always been taller and broader than Abe, but he’d forgotten how comforting it was to have that solid weight pressed against him.
“It really is kind of you to worry about me,” Ben says quietly.
“It’s not kindness. You’re one of my oldest friends. Of course I worry about you,” Abe replies. “And I will continue to worry until all this is over.”
Ben hesitates but then slides his arm around Abe’s chest, pulling him closer against him. “Thank you. It is really very good to see you.”
“It’s good to be seen,” Abe murmurs. He reaches back, his hand landing on Ben’s bare thigh. “Ben. I never--I never stopped…”
“Shh. I know,” Ben replies, his voice no louder than a whisper. He strokes his hand over Abe’s chest, the material of Abe’s shirt rough under his palm. “I never stopped loving you, either.”
It takes a little effort to turn toward Ben without falling out of the bed, but Abe manages it. He cups Ben’s face in his hand and kisses him long and deep, his thumb stroking Ben’s cheekbone. Abe grunts into the kiss as Ben’s arm pulls him even tighter against him.
“I missed you while I was at Yale,” Ben says, arching his neck as Abe’s hot mouth starts pressing kisses to his jaw and throat. His hand starts tugging at Abe’s shirt, bunching it up so he can get to his skin. “I thought about you all the time.”
“You made a choice,” Abe says. “I understood why you didn’t come with me to King’s College. It’s better you didn’t.” His voice falters and he has to clear his throat.
Ben pulls him into another kiss. “Let’s not discuss the past,” he murmurs against Abe’s lips. His hand slides over Abe’s hip to wrap around his cock, a familiar weight in his hand.
“Jesus, Ben!” Abe groans. He clutches Ben’s back at the first dry pull of his hand along his flesh. He bites his lip and pushes his hips into Ben’s hand. Fumbling through the slowly building haze of pleasure, Abe manages to push Ben’s shirt up enough to tease his flesh.
Ben licks his lips and groans softly. “You always enjoyed teasing me,” he comments with a grin.
“I enjoy everything about you,” Abe replies. He caresses Ben’s skin for a few more moments, revelling in the feel of him and in the pleasure of Ben’s hand on hm. Finally, he relents, taking Ben’s cock in his hand and stroking him to the same rhythm.
“Abraham… Christ, I missed this,” Ben groans.
“Me too, Ben. Me too,” Abe gasps.
They lapse into sloppy kisses and soft groans as they tease and play with each other. Abe’s hips make little hitching motions into Ben’s hand as he chases his pleasure. Ben’s eyes are shut tight, his mouth hanging open as Abe strokes him fervently.
“Ben… God, Ben,” Abe pants.
“Yes… yes. Abe. I--I need to…”
“Go on. Won’t--be far behind,” Abe says.
Ben huffs a laugh but then Abe does something with his hand that’s completely surprising and new and his brain goes offline. It takes everything he has to stay present enough to continue stroking Abe as he rides through his release. Ben comes back to himself just in time to see Abe find his own release. He strokes his hand over Abe’s shoulder and neck and presses kisses to Abe’s eyelids.
Abe wraps his arms tightly around Ben, burying his face in Ben’s shoulders. “Don’t leave me, Ben,” he murmurs urgently. “Don’t go.”
“Abe,” Ben says, stroking his back. “Oh, my Abraham. I promise we’ll see each other again. I promise.”
“You can’t promise that,” Abe says.
“I can promise that I’ll do everything I can to stay alive,” Ben says. He pulls back enough to look Abe in the eyes. “I will survive this. I will do everything I can to come back to you.”
Abe sighs and nods. “I suppose it’s the best I can hope for,” he says, giving Ben a soft kiss. “When are you being commissioned?”
“The 20th,” Ben says. “Once school is done and set to rights for the summer. You should come.”
Abe shakes his head. “I can’t. The farm. You should come back to Setauket and see your father before your commision. He’d like that.”
“Tell him I’ll try,” Ben says with a small smile.
Abe chuckles and stretches out along Ben, rubbing against him. “If you did, we could sneak off together like we used to. For old time’s sake.”
“I’ll try,” Ben says again, but it’s playful this time, more like a promise.
“Good,” Abe says. He manages to roll over again and pull Ben’s arm around him. For the next few hours he tries to forget what Ben is walking into and what could happen to him.
In the morning, he dresses, gathers his coat, and kisses Ben one more time. “Remember your promise. For me.”
“I’ll remember,” Ben says. “And I’ll see you again soon. I guarantee it.”
Abe smiles and opens the door, stepping out into the brilliant Connecticut June sunshine, the year of our Lord 1776.