"Why couldn't we take the road?" Sebastian called out, his shined leather brogues receiving yet another coating of thick Yorkshire mud. He tiptoed around another muddy patch, choosing to sacrifice his coat to the perils of the thorns and bracken in the hedgerow, the barbs catching on the expensive fabric, designed for pleasant strolls in a city park or on Larry's estate, rather than for navigating a narrow muddy and waterlogged footpath between two fields.

Ahead of him, Izzie – dressed in the more appropriate attire of knee-length, laced up hiking boots – sprung with ease up onto a stone stile, turning back to look at him, her face a picture of confidence. She also wore a pair of trousers – a garment most women would only get away with wearing if designed for some practical or outdoor use. "If we took the road, we'd risk being seen."

"I don't mind being seen, Izzie. It's not as if we're conducting some covert operation for His Majesty, is it? It's only Larry."

"Nothing will go according to plan if you two see each other at the wrong moment." Izzie jumped down onto the path, on the opposite side of the stile. "You need to see Larry without him seeing you. If that goes wrong, you won't be able to observe the man he's become and all my efforts will have been for nothing. Now get a move on."

"You're quite bossy, aren't you?"

Izzie let out an exasperated sigh, her hands on her hips. "I'm trying to help you save your relationship, so if I am, so be it."

Sebastian edged forward, gripping a wooden post so decayed it seemed poised to crumble with the slightest breeze. "You're walking too quickly. How's a man supposed to keep up?"

Izzie tutted. "Yes, I best let the man catch up with the feeble woman, right? You would have stood a better chance if you'd taken my advice and stopped to buy another pair of walking shoes. We'd be there by now otherwise, now give me your hand," she said as Sebastian tried to find his footing on the other side of the stile.

"I can manage, thank you," he insisted, swatting her hand away. His legs wobbled as he balanced on the thin slab of granite, trying to rotate himself so he could step down with what little dignity he had left.

"Do you want to end up face down in a puddle of mud?"

Sebastian took her hand and stepped down onto the path. "To think that if you hadn't barged in, then I'd be sipping champagne on the first class boat deck," he said in a wistful tone.

"Then you had a lucky escape," Izzie retorted, smirking over her shoulder briefly before marching on. "Not far now, just one more field. Then we can sneak across the yard to the barn."

"How can you be sure he'll be there?"

"He practically lives in there from what Richard tells me, glueing himself to his work ... so he doesn't think about you."

"Oh." Sebastian fell silent, no response willing to come. Guilt washed over him. He hadn't felt that way before Izzie's visit at the hotel, but he'd had enough time to think over the past day and he realised that, despite the initial fault being Larry's, that some blame lay with himself. He'd not stopped to think how Larry must have felt since they separated, nor that he'd try to fix things in his own way. Sebastian should have known better than anyone that Larry's methods were usually extreme and didn't always work out, but that his motivations were usually good. But the worst of it ... He hadn't even given Larry the opportunity to try.

...

Upon reaching the farm, Izzie ushered Sebastian across the yard, urging him to hurry. She pulled him around the outside of a barn where Sebastian heard someone at work inside, the clinking and squeaking of what he supposed was a spanner on a stubborn bolt coming from within.

Without a word, Izzie gestured for him to follow her, around the back and then up a mound of something that Sebastian, on first inspection, feared to be a pile of manure.

"No chance," he said. "Do you know how much this coat costs?"

Izzie shushed him with a finger to her lips. "It's only soil, you idiot. When was the last time you set foot on a farm?"

"Never," Sebastian answered, grumbling to himself as he tentatively climbed up the mound to join her at the base of a small dirty window, painfully aware of his nails gathering brown dirt underneath with every move. "Larry wouldn't want to see me now, not in this state."

Izzie rolled her eyes in exasperation. "He won't care. He just wants to see you."

A wave of nerves shot through him, reeling in his stomach, thumping at his heart. All he had to do was look, to peer through the small pane of glass that separated him from the man he used to love ... loved still ... The man whom he couldn't make head nor tail of understanding sometimes ... who had thrown his mind into turmoil.

"Go on," Izzie said, her voice kinder that time.

Sebastian hesitated, wishing up the glacial coldness that had filled him over the past couple of months. He pictured Larry as he was when he'd interrupted him with the aeroplane man, as he called him, and all the emotions he'd had thrown at him in that moment came flooding back. The numbing shock, bitter betrayal, heated anger, then the echoing loneliness in the hours, days, and weeks that followed.

That had been the worst.

Yet, he wished to feel those emotions again and, sure enough, they came. It had been pride that had made him desire them. He didn't want to allow Larry the satisfaction that he could tear away every loathing feeling he'd built up inside with just seeing him again. He didn't want Larry to have that power over him, to be the winner.

Peering through the glass, Sebastian was unsure of whom he would see: the man he had left behind running out of the door of his grand country house, or the man Izzie and Richard believed had reformed.

At first, he saw nothing, just a smudged view of a van that looked as though it had seen better days. Then a movement caught his eye. Not Larry, but a young boy running into the barn carrying a tin, followed by the figure of a woman. The boy ran behind the van, hidden for a moment. He heard a child-like squeal of excitement.

"Do you like them, Larry?"

Sebastian's breath stuttered, face heating, breath misting the window. He pressed his face to the glass, shielding his eyes from the sun's glare. Still, he could not see him ... but he heard him.

"Divine, Alfie. You will become a master baker as well as the best farmer in Yorkshire."

Impatient, he rubbed the dirt from the window with his sleeve, the concerns over the expensive fabric fast forgotten.

Then he saw him. The bitterness, anger, and revolt he'd summoned vanished in a breath. Every defence he'd built to maintain his pride fell, leaving him open and vulnerable. Larry looked different. He couldn't deny that. Gone was his lavish, bordering, flamboyant fashion with his tailor-made clothes, coordinated colours and eye-catching accessories. Instead, his clothes looked like those of any normal working-class man, scruffier even. His hair, so usually styled to neat perfection, fell over his head in a way that Sebastian rarely saw – except for when they slept together or when Larry spent all day tinkering with his beloved motors. More unusual was his manner. Sebastian had never seen Larry around with children – the opportunity never arose. But there he was, the man whose usual manner was flirts, charms and inappropriate innuendos, squatting on the floor making a successful show of being enthralled by the child's cooking skills.

Sebastian stayed rooted in an uncomfortable position, half-kneeling, half- sitting in the dirt, face pressed to the glass captured by the sight. He watched as Larry lifted the child, Alfie, into the driver's seat, setting the cake tin on his workbench. With the woman, who Sebastian presumed to be Alfie's mother, the entire scene felt almost domestic. The emotion surging within him wasn't envy, it was something he couldn't identify. All he knew was it had caused an aching smile on his face.

After Alfie and his mother left Larry to his work, Izzie gave Sebastian's arm a gentle tug. "I'd best be off. Thought I'd drop in on Richard whilst I'm here."

"You're leaving? You're not coming with me?"

"As much as I'd like to witness your reunion with Larry, I think I'd be unwelcome ... three's a crowd and all that," she said.

"I don't mind you staying," Sebastian said, wishing he could insist she stayed.

"You don't need me."

"I do."

"Don't be silly, you're nervous, that's all. Speak to him, hear him out, shout, argue whatever, but do something. No good will come of you both bottling up your feelings for a moment longer." She climbed down the slope, Sebastian following with less grace. "Anyway, out of you both, I'd wager Larry will be the nervous one."

With that Izzie scuttled away, making for the gate that the lane beyond. Sebastian remained motionless. Then he paced along the barn wall, towards the door, then back away again. It took a couple of attempts before he stole a breath and stepped into the barn.

...

Larry, with his back on the cold dusty floor of the barn, stared at the underside of the van. He wasn't stuck or confused about how to proceed; he knew exactly what work needed to be done and how to do it, but no enthusiasm came. Not even the satisfaction of a job well done, which was normally enough to motivate him, could muster the concentration he needed. Alfie's visit when he bought homemade shortbread biscuits had been his only moment of joy in the day so far. The boy must have sensed he needed cheering up. He did. Hope had dwindled to an all-time low, and he'd come to terms with the notion that he and Sebastian were over and he would never come looking for him, which left him with only two options: find Sebastian himself, or move on.

Slow-paced footsteps entered the barn. Assuming it was Matthew, Larry strained for the spanner, groaning as it remained just beyond his grasp. He didn't want to crawl out from under the van, only to have to go back. "Matthew, sorry, could you pass me that?" he called out, kicking the spanner with his foot.

Matthew didn't answer, but the spanner met his open hand all the same.

Larry jumped at the brush of their fingers – soft skin, not toughened by decades of outdoor work like he'd expected.

With a stifled breath, he withdrew his hand back under the vehicle like some frightened animal. He knew those hands, the soft skin that he had often clasped in his own. The same fingers that had traced the contours of his body with such loving intensity.

But he'd dreamt of those hands and woken disappointed, so much so that he preferred to evade sleep. He shook his head, chest heaving, and told himself he was an idiot. Sebastian wasn't there. Why would he be?

"Honestly Larry, you're going to hide from me? Don't be pathetic."

Larry's head collided with the underside of the van. Head throbbing, but not caring for his pain in the slightest, Larry pushed himself out into the open to be met by the face of the one person he'd wanted to see, but yet dreaded. "Seb?"

"Who else?" Sebastian stood, arms folded, looking down at him. He didn't look pleased. Larry supposed he wouldn't be.

Hurrying to his feet, his stance feeling unsteady owing to Sebastian's unwavering glare, or the blow to his head – or perhaps a bit of both – Larry tried to speak, to say the words he'd rehearsed for the moment he now faced. "What are you doing? You can't be here," he said, his mind not obeying his mouth.

"Why not? You've got some butch farm hand hidden away somewhere that you don't want me to know about?"

"What? No. I wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't you? You didn't mind ruining everything for that aeroplane. If you would sleep with someone to get that, then I'd expect you'd find a replacement for me, even for just the one time, without too much strain on your conscience."

Larry winced. He deserved that. "I didn't sleep with him."

"No, but would you have, if I hadn't walked in?"

Larry hesitated. "I ... No."

Sebastian huffed. "Sure. I want you to say it. You flirt with everyone, desire every fine man who passes your eye."

"And you aren't much different!" Larry said, his voice raised before he could think of what he was saying. He didn't want to argue, but Sebastian did, it seemed. "You've known me for years, you know what I'm like, and you've told me so many times how you like it, how it gets you h—"

"Not like that, not like how you were with him. Two minutes later and you would have been fucking before my eyes!"

Larry cast a cautious glance at the open door. "Quiet!" he hissed. "What are you trying to do?"

"You overstepped," Sebastian said, after pausing for breath, lowering his voice.

"I know and if I could take it back, I would, but that's impossible. I don't want any aeroplane, in fact, I'd give up the money, business empire, houses, and even the fucking cars if it would make you look at me how you once did." Larry took a step closer to Sebastian, close enough to see the shadows under his eyes. "I'd live the life of a pauper if you asked me to."

Sebastian didn't speak. He looked Larry up and down, and somewhere behind that hardened stance, something softened. "Don't be so dramatic. You'd never last a day."

"I've managed two months here, very well, actually."

"You look like hell."

"Well, the clothes aren't fashionable in the slightest, but comfortable enough and if I get a coat, it's not cold—"

"I don't mean that. You, Larry – you look like hell."

"I feel it." Larry hung his head and, to his surprise, Sebastian stepped closer, placed two fingers under his chin to lift it so their eyes locked, and touched the newly forming bruise on his forehead.

"You've got to stop doing that. One day you'll do some actual damage," he said, rubbing his fingers over the throbbing area, a warm touch that soothed the pain. Sebastian's eyebrows knotted as he frowned at the wound, then at him again, as though he was trying to decide on his next move.

"I need you to stop me."

Sebastian stepped away. "You made it clear you didn't want me, that you preferred other things."

As Sebastian turned away, Larry's heart leapt with a chilling dread, his only chance to make things right slipping through his fingers. He lunged forward, head spinning, and grabbed hold of Sebastian's hand with both of his, clasping him tight. "Don't leave. I'm sorry, I was the biggest ever fool and I need you. I've realised that these two months, nothing else works, not hard labour, friends, drink – I even kissed Richard and that did nothing for me. You're the only one I want!"

"You apologise by telling me you kissed your ex?"

"Yes?" Larry said, his voice a hushed question.

Sebastian's lip twitched, then grew into a smile, followed by a chuckle. "Only you would."

"I didn't mean to. I was drunk."

"I gathered. Don't fear that, Larry. I know Richard is smitten with Thomas. He'd never look elsewhere and you ... I don't know what to do with you."

Larry didn't know what to do, either. He usually knew how to read Sebastian, but in those moments, he didn't have a clue. Sebastian's beauty was excruciating. Crisp colour coordinated waistcoat complete with watch chain, his long dark grey coat with red lining, trousers that fitted in all the right places ... the only thing out of place was that dirt splattered his shoes and the hem of his trousers. "How did you know where to find me?"

Sebastian sat on an upturned bucket, Larry following by example, perching nearby on the edge of a workbench. "I didn't. It seems our friends Richard and Thomas have been concerned about you and that resulted in some meddling in our affairs," Sebastian said, looking at him with a familiar teasing glint in his eye. "Izzie tracked me down ... in Liverpool ... at The Grand."

Larry swallowed, casting his eyes to Sebastian's shoes. "The Grand. You were getting a ship?"

"New York, then onwards back to California."

"You were going to leave ... me?"

"I thought it best. But Izzie was ... very persuasive in that I was mistaken. She brought me here, right to this barn across open countryside, hence the muddy shoes."

Larry ignored Sebastian's attempt to make light of events. "Are you still leaving for America?"

"I was. Then I came here, and I wasn't sure and then ... then I saw you Larry and I ... I don't think I can. Izzie accused me of standing on my pride and, whilst I hate to admit it, she was right. I wanted to have the moral high ground, and I wanted you to know it. But I wasn't fair to you by not giving you a chance, and for that ... for that I'm sorry."

Larry blinked. "You're sorry?" He left the workbench and knelt at Sebastian's feet, clasping his hands, and looked up into eyes that had lost their initial anger and he reckoned – if he looked hard enough – love was still there. "Seb, I am solely to blame. I need no apology from you and ... and as much as I hate it, I respect whatever decision you make."

Sebastian clasped Larry's hand and slipped free from his grip. "Best be circumspect, Larry. How would we explain if someone entered and saw you on bended knee in front of me?"

"Not the first time I've been on my knees for you," Larry quipped, a familiar smirk tugging at his lips.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Get up. Is there somewhere we can talk without being overheard?"

Larry brushed the dirt from his knees. "There is, if you don't mind a walk?"

"I think we need to talk, Larry. I don't know what I'm doing, but we need to catch up on the two months we've missed from each other's lives. Then we can think about what we do next."

Larry didn't need to be told twice. Their first meeting hadn't been as he'd planned, but despite the harsh words and arguments, he took encouragement because Sebastian still referred to them as 'we'.

Note: Sorry for the very long delay in uploading this one! I enjoyed writing it and I hope it was an enjoyable read too.