The lively chatter of the Grantham Arms' patrons wafted out the door as easily as the scent of beer and cigarette smoke. After closing, Richard would sometimes visit the Grantham Arms for a drink – sometimes with Chris – or if Thomas was kept later at Downton and their own kitchen was too silent, he would also have his evening meal there. Tonight, Chris was at the farm with David and Thomas caught up with a late evening function upstairs, so Richard entered alone. Taking a seat at the bar, he ordered a half-pint of beer. That was the most he ever drank. He didn't like what a drink could do to a person's manners or senses. He savoured it instead, and sometimes had a chat with the barman, if the latter was so inclined.

Richard finished his drink and slid a few coins to the barman. "Many thanks."

"You know, Mr Ellis, you speak sometimes as though you're the king himself. It makes a bloody change, a little politeness."

"I served a gentleman high in the aristocracy before moving here," Richard said, his careful explanation not entirely a lie. He had no obligation to keep his previous work secret, though he preferred not to be questioned on it and feel like some exhibit on show. "I dare say their way of communicating rubbed off on me."

The barman shrugged. "No bad thing. I suppose you're off to the abbey now?"

"Not tonight. Mr Barrow is working late. I'd not expect him back soon. Nights like this … I have to be sure not to leave the key in the lock. It would be a poor show to lock him out and have my sleep disturbed." Richard as ever was careful with his words. He'd built up a casual friendship with the owner of Downton's primary pub, but could never allow himself to let words pour out – another reason he maintained strict control over his drinking limits.

A glass clattered on the counter at the opposite end to Richard and the barman, interrupting their conversation. A man, who hadn't removed his hat, sat hunched over an empty glass, one hand propping up his head.

"He won't be getting many more glasses from me," the barman said, leaning forward, keeping his voice low. "In here these past three evenings. Arrives sober and as polite as yourself, spends far more money than a working man should have on drink, then leaves when I refuse him more."

The drunk man's hand slapped the counter. "Another, my dear fellow!"

Richard whirled around. "Larry?"

Larry didn't respond to Richard. He only repeated his request.

"You know him?" the barman asked, jerking his thumb in Larry's direction.

"Yes. He's an old friend. He's had a bit of bad luck lately," Richard said truthfully, if not entirely honest.

"He's got a loose tongue. Too much so for his own good."

"What do you mean?"

"All I'll say is that he's made some remarks tonight and other nights that might make some folks look unfavourably towards him. The sort of remarks that can land a man in trouble. I ain't a judgemental person, Mr Ellis. I know drinking can make a person say many things that, if sober, they'd never mean."

Whatever remarks the barman was referring to, Richard guessed were ones that Larry should only divulge in safe, like-minded company. "Don't give him another. I'll get him home."

"Larry, fancy bumping into you tonight!" Richard said, with the pretence of only just noticing him.

Larry pushed himself up, his elbow missing the edge of the counter the first time round. "Richard, my fine, fine friend! How marvellous to see you!" Larry clapped Richard hard on the shoulder. "Have a drink. I'm still waiting for my other."

"I thought you'd come back with me now. You must be tired after a hard day," Richard said, steering Larry by one shoulder away from the bar, tossing the barman some more coins to pay for Larry's evening.

"Back with you?" Larry's lips curled into a suggestive smirk. "Is Thomas going to be there as well? I'd like that – a lot."

Richard could see what the barman had meant. "No, I'm taking you back to your room at the farm," he said as they stepped outside.

"I don't need a chaperone, Mr Eliis. I am perfectly capable of leaving this fine drinking establishment on my own," Larry mumbled, missing the step and stumbling into Richard, knocking him sideways.

"You really are not. Now, stop shaking me off, accept that you've had too much to drink and let me walk you home."

"I find your arm around my waist most pleasurable," Larry slurred, flashing a lopsided smile.

"Larry! You're lucky no one paid you much attention earlier. If you've been flirting with anyone whilst drunk—"

"I may have paid a few well-meaning compliments."

Richard rolled his eyes. He was glad Larry was not a violent drunk – those were the worst – but his flirtatious behaviour became exaggerated. "Right, come on," he said, keeping Larry from walking into a lamppost.

"Jolly good."

"Oh, and Larry one thing?"

"Yes?"

"Will you stop talking as though you're a nineteenth century aristocrat? You sound ridiculous."

"I was being polite."

"You can be polite without sounding like a complete fool."

Larry didn't seem to hear him. However, he came to a halt and looked up in awe. "My goodness, the moon is bright tonight."

Richard peered at the cloud-filled sky and deadpanned. "That's the street lamp."

"Oh yes! So it is! They are similar, easy mistake to make. Seb likes the moon. He and I once spent a summer's night out in one of the wild meadows on my estate, making love amongst the tall grasses." Larry's expression changed, the wondrous look in his eyes turning wistful.

Richard glanced around them, relieved to see no one had heard, and hurried Larry onwards, only stopping when they reached the edge of the village and the dark country lane that led to the farm. Despite his reservations about walking a drunk man back along a dark, muddy lane, Richard couldn't hide the quickening of his pulse as he remembered his and Thomas's first time many years ago in a wheat field.

They made it to the farm, the journey of just over a mile feeling far longer than normal owing to Richard's efforts to keep Larry focused on where he was going, not what was going on in his muddled and heartbroken mind. Aside from stumbling into a ditch at one point, they'd made it unscathed.

"Right, I want you to go straight to sleep. I'll tell Matthew that you need a lie-in tomorrow."

Larry had gone quiet as they'd approached the farmyard, Richard hoping the chilly night air had sobered him up a little. "Thank you. I know you've done this before. It shouldn't have happened again. I just miss him. I feel like everything I've tried to do has fallen apart and I'm back to where I was when you found me in Downton's backyard. Things have been going well, and I thought I was making progress."

"You are Larry. You've won the hearts of everyone around here, and have been helpful too," Richard said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Doesn't matter now though, does it? I undid all of it. I tried not to, but it's so hard." Larry took a step forward, stumbled on the uneven ground and fell against Richard. Whilst he recovered himself, his hands did not leave Richard's shoulders.

"Larry it's okay—"

Larry's lips collided with Richard's. Stunned and exhausted, it took a moment for Richard's body to catch up, leaving him paralysed. Larry had been his comfort long ago, and fleeting images of their time together came flashing back – even if he hated to admit it. He pushed Larry away, his friend looking at him with horror-stricken eyes.

Larry collapsed one hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry, I-I fuck. Richard I—Dear God, what am I doing? I've not only ruined my relationship, now I've ruined yours too!"

"What? No, Larry you haven't."

"You'll have to tell Thomas and then he'll think … something and he'll—"

"Thomas won't think of any such thing. He and I are doing splendidly and he's not that judgemental … since it's only you."

"Seb would have forgiven a kiss, but I just had to go all the way, didn't I? I'm such an idiot, and his forgiveness is clearly not forthcoming, or he'd have found me here by now. It was a stupid plan. How is Seb supposed to see I've changed if he's not even here?"

Richard could agree with Larry on that. He had hoped that Sebastian would come looking for Larry after a few weeks of cooling off. But it had been over a month now. Richard had held back from meddling in other people's affairs since he didn't like people doing that for him, but he hated seeing his friend – who was normally so confident and in control – crumbling.

"Larry, is that you?" Matthew's voice called out.

"Matthew, it's Richard," Richard replied through the darkness, moving him and Larry closer to the light on the outside spilling out from the open farmhouse door. "Larry is here too."

"He doesn't look so good," the farmer said.

"I came across him at the Grantham Arms. I'm sure you can piece together the rest."

"Larry, go inside, sit down and I'll fetch you something to help you recover," Matthew said, gesturing with a tilt of his head.

"The same as before?" Larry asked.

"The very same. I will have my daughter, Emily, give you the recipe for when you return home," Matthew said, with a fatherly kindness.

"If I ever do," Larry mumbled as he took his time on the steps and entered the farmhouse.

"Ginger beer – the non-alcoholic kind, of course," Matthew explained.

"The barman said he's been a frequent visitor over this past week."

"I was only aware as of yesterday evening when Johnny, a young lad who helps on the farm at weekends, brought him home around the same time as today. Johnny told me Larry had been saying some incriminating things."

"To the young lad?"

"Oh no! Not to him, but Johnny overheard. He shouldn't have been in the pub at his age, but a young lad of his age – fifteen, I think – wants to fit in with those a couple of years his senior. Just as well he was there. I didn't need to ask for Johnny's discretion. He told me he likes Larry. They all thought he was a useless toff at first, but soon changed their minds when he started fixing every broken vehicle and piece of machinery on this farm."

"Sebastian is being missed, and it's breaking him."

"I know. Maybe now is the time to intervene. I respect you for not wanting to pry Richard, but if there is something you and your friends can do, I urge you to do so."

"I'll talk to Thomas about it."

"As for the short term, though, I'll make sure Larry eats dinner with me each night. It shouldn't be hard to persuade him since he has a healthy appetite. If that fails, then I'll mention my grandson, Alfie, would want him there. Larry has been teaching him how to drive."

Richard did a double take. "Drive? He's only what, four or five?"

Matthew laughed. "Larry let him sit in the driver's seat of that fancy car, the Model something or rather?"

"Duesenberg Model J," Richard corrected,

"Yes, that one. Larry showed him what all the controls did, even started the engine. I didn't see this, Emily did, but I wish I had done. The car never left the barn, of course, but Alfie has been talking non-stop about it since. In another life, Larry would have made a good father."

Richard nodded. "I could see that."

The two men were silent for a few moments, Richard caught up in his own wonderings, those far-flung fantasies of him and Thomas having a family of their own.

"I'll see he gets enough sleep," Matthew said. "Do you want to borrow a car to drive home? I'd ask David to drive you, but he disappeared long ago with Chris into his annex and I haven't heard a peep from them since."

"No, no, I'll be alright. Maybe a walk will help me think."

…

"You're checking up on me, aren't you?" Thomas said, half sitting, half leaning against the edge of his desk, arms folded, a tease of a smile on his lips.

Richard took his time to take off his coat and jacket, hanging each up the hook on the door, neatening out any creases. "I wanted to see you, that's all Mr Barrow," he said smoothly, as he came over.

Thomas regarded him with narrowed eyes, his suspicion evident. "You are checking up on me, then? Making sure I've not reduced myself to some uncontrollable emotional wreck."

Richard found a hold on the side of Thomas' shoulders. He caressed his thumb over the crisp, smart material of Thomas' butler's livery jacket with enough pressure for Thomas to feel him. "I suppose I wanted to make sure all was well." He lowered his head, closing the gap between them, as Thomas tilted himself upwards, opening his legs so Richard could find a comfortable position. "I've been thinking about you all morning, told Chris I'd be taking a longer lunch break to see you." Their breathing mingled, Thomas's lips brushing his own with the tiniest fraction of contact. "Though, if you'd rather I didn't crowd you...?"

Thomas kissed Richard's jawbone. "If this is your idea of crowding, then I find myself keen."

"You've been doing alright then?"

"Yes, yes," Thomas answered with an impatient sigh.

Richard smiled against Thomas' lips. They started with a gradual motion, but Thomas' roaming hands and hitched breaths escalated their moment, gentle kisses turning fervent. Richard revelled in the moment where Thomas pulled him by the hips, forcing him to steady them with a hand on the desk. He revelled in it even more when Thomas's hands moved to so many parts of him. It seemed impossible for Thomas to capture him all at once. They found a place on Richard's shoulders in the end, just as his arms ached.

Thomas looped his fingers under Richard's braces and pushed them both upwards. "Wall," he said, only breaking their kiss to speak. He stepped backwards, allowing Richard to trap him again between the wall, just to one side of the locked door, and his body. It seemed Thomas had not been lying about being keen on Richard's method of crowding.

They remained locked in this intimate embrace for a considerable amount of time, exchanging passionate kisses that occasionally ventured into each other's mouths. Their lips then trailed along each other's skin, while they exchanged mumbled and whispered remarks that ranged from flirtatious to needy to loving. A multitude of tender touches accompanied all of this.

If Richard had been concerned that Thomas's emotional breakdown the evening before last might reoccur, he found his worries quenched. Thomas was in fine form – in more ways than one – and showed no signs of putting up an act for his benefit. The specific clues on Thomas' body were genuine and impossible to fake. When Richard trailed kisses up the side of Thomas's neck, he felt Thomas's breath hitch with each movement, the grip on his back tightening with desire. Richard found the soft skin below his earlobe – a favourite place of his – kissed him and gave his skin a light suck, if only to test his theory that Thomas was not putting on any act.

The hiss that Thomas let out between his teeth confirmed Richard was correct.

"Richard ... I-I ... I can't ... twenty minutes," Thomas mumbled into the side of Richard's head.

"What?"

"Upstairs in twenty minutes."

"Us?" Richard asked, pausing his worshipping of Thomas's beautifully pale skin.

Thomas gave him a light kick. "No, idiot. I have to be upstairs in twenty minutes, probably less now ... to serve luncheon. And I"—Richard tugged away Thomas's tie and loosened a button to allow himself access to unexplored territory. Thomas's head tilted back, his moan likely audible to anyone who was on the other side of the wall at that moment—"can't think I'll find an excuse to remain seated whilst serving a table of ten."

Richard chuckled into Thomas's neck, earning him another moan mixed with a curse. "I'm tempted to tell them to serve themselves, as you are far too busy with me, Mr Barrow."

"Yes, love. Love that is tempting but"—Thomas put a finger between Richard's lips and his own—"I enjoy having a job and we need money."

Richard stepped back, struggling to suppress his laugh. "Alright. But you make it difficult."

Thomas remained, looking a little dazed, against the wall. "So do you," he said, letting out a long sigh. "So do you."

"I have something we need to talk about." Richard followed Thomas back to his desk, Thomas sitting back in his chair. Richard found his usual spot on the corner of the desk, but Thomas turned his chair sideways and patted his lap with invitation.

"After what we just said, Mr Barrow?" Richard raised an eyebrow, but Thomas beckoned him over all the same.

"As long as you don't sit astride me, I think we'll be okay."

Richard smirked and nibbled his lip – a move he noticed Thomas followed with intent. He found his place on Thomas's lap, back against the desk edge, one arm around the back of the chair and Thomas's shoulder for support. "I meant to talk to you about this last night but—"

"You were flat out when I came home. I never found out what was so exhausting."

"I was at the pub—Not what you think."

"I wasn't thinking that. You've never been someone who lounges at a bar until the late hours."

"I had one drink alone – Chris was with David last night – chatted to the barman a bit and was about to leave when I recognised Larry."

Thomas's expression split into a friendly smile. "Oh, that's nice." The smile faded into a concerned frown when Richard hesitated. "It was not?"

"I wasn't alone at the bar. All the time, at the far end, was a hunched over figure whom I paid no heed. It was a pub after all, not unusual to find someone worse for wear at a bar. But it was Larry, and he was not in a fine shape – a vast understatement."

"Oh, not again."

"Yeah. The barman told me he'd been that way for several nights, not always speaking in the most circumspect of ways, either. I mean, this is Larry we're talking about, but even he isn't such an idiot to be so loose with his tongue. Matthew confirmed this when I walked Larry back to the farm. That was why I was asleep when you came back."

Thomas ran his free hand through his hair. "He's gone back to how he was when we found him in the yard."

"Worse." Richard cleared his throat, not looking forward to being honest about the full events of the evening.

"How? Did someone see him do anything ... indiscrete?"

"No, but he did something. Before I tell you, though, remember he was drunk and heartbroken and not himself."

"Richard, you're worrying me. Out with it."

"He kissed me."

Thomas looked at him with a stoic expression, giving nothing away. His eyes snapped downward, fixating on the floor beneath him. "I see. And you ...?"

"No, of course I didn't kiss him back." Richard took Thomas's hand, taking some comfort since he hadn't removed his hand from Richard's knee. "Thomas darling, I gave no cause for invitation. Larry was mortified. He blamed himself for ruining his own relationship, as well as ours. I told him you'd not hold it against him, that you'd understand. You do understand?"

"I do."

"If you don't, say please?"

Thomas squeezed Richard's hand back. "I understand. It's not surprising, really. You and Larry were a thing once. He was out of his head, heart all messed up. If it was going to be anyone, it would have been you. You and I are very much in love and he's got nothing to feel guilty about. If my hesitation made you think otherwise, then it was just a shock, nothing more. I love you and we're good."

Richard cupped Thomas' chin. "I love you too." They met in a kiss that reassured Richard again that Thomas was being honest.

"We need to do something about Larry, though," Thomas said a couple of kisses later. "We can't have him going around kissing people."

Richard chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Larry has been doing well – I think we can both agree – but his plan is flawed as whilst we can see his improvements, only we can, not the intended party."

"You mean Sebastian?"

"Precisely."

Thomas stretched one leg under Richard . "Well, we will have to step in. I miss the old Larry – even if his flirting with me was ridiculous. We need to find Sebastian, get him to Downton and drag him here by his ankles if necessary!"

"Yes ... in a manner of speaking. We don't know where he is, though. He could be in America for all we know. I'll try the obvious contacts – Larry's butler and his own – but I have a feeling we may need extra help in finding him."

"You want to hire a detective?"

"Not exactly. Obviously, police involvement would be a terrible idea, but I have someone else in mind. Someone who's skilled at finding out information."

Thomas gave him a knowing look.

"You're thinking the same as me then, Mr Barrow?"

Thomas nodded. "We are as one in this, Richard, as we are in all things."