Disclaimer: I do not own Curt Wild or Brian Slade, they're fictional characters from "Velvet Goldmine", Todd Haynes brilliant movie.

Warnings: It involves strong language. Throughout the story, it will also involve sexual graphic scenes.

Chapter One: Wishful Beginnings

Brian Slade stepped out of the car and reached out for the air around him, trying to absorb the familiar drizzle. Coming back to London rekindled infinite memories, memories he had sworn to himself he'd never bring back into his mind.

But he was fairly sure the person in question didn't feel the same way. He wasn't nostalgic. Truth be told- he probably wouldn't even remember him. No, Curt definitely wouldn't get stuck in a passionate, sporadic romance, he would simply… Put it out of his mind.

The even thinking of it was ridiculous.

Four years. One thousand four hundred and sixty nights, exactly. One thousand four hundred and sixty faceless strangers…

Brian didn't begin a single night alone, and he never slept in company. As soon as the heated night was over, his worshipper would have to leave the bed. But it had been different with him- Curt didn't worship him. As a matter of fact, it was exactly the opposite.

But, it hadn't lasted. Brian's adoration never did. One day the colours were bright and fascinating, the next day they all seemed gray and leaded to a spiral of doom.

It wasn't his fault, was it? The fact that his interest for Curt had lasted more than had intended? The inevitable ending of Brian finally losing interest and his lover feeling like nothing? He wasn't that wrong, Curt had been nothing to Brian at the end of it. But no, it wasn't his fault- Brian had warned him. He was…complicated.

"That's fine. I mean, I'm a fucking mess- I can't judge you." Had been his answer. Everything was much simpler to Curt, at least that's what he wanted to show.

And now that he had finally decided to end his career, Brian was back home- heading for the gate of his house. And he couldn't help but remember that gray car- the same that once had taken the only meaningful thing in his life away.

But how naïve of him to deny the guilt. He was fully responsible and he bloody well knew it. Letting Curt go had been a dreadful mistake, but the Glam Rock star had too much pride to admit it.

That's why when the door opened and he eyed the man of his present thoughts in flesh, he felt just like he used to feel those first months around Curt- breathless.

The blond man stared at Brian with a sheepish smile on his face, and a cigarette between his fingers.

He looked just like he did the last time he had seen him. His hair looked more golden, but that was it- he hadn't changed, not one bit. He was the same man who had stormed away that cold night. Those were the same eyes that burned with anger that morning.

But Brian still resented him, and he knew ignoring Curt would hurt him just as much as he had hurt him when he left.

So he closed the door, left the suitcase on the floor, took off his big black hat, hung his coat and made his way to the kitchen to make himself a hot cup of tea.

Brian didn't get to see Curt's reaction before the man walked in his direction. The British man kept his eyes on the cup, so he wouldn't get caught by those shimmering sapphires that clouded his sense of right and wrong.

Curt approached the breakfast table and leaned on his elbows, waiting for Brian to turn around. And when he did, his smile looked so relax he wasn't sure if he felt relief or intense rage.

"Still blue, huh?" Curt broke the silence, referring to Brian's dyed hair.

Brian smiled absently. "Weren't you living in New York? That's what I heard."

"Yeah, I am," was Curt's reply. And silence again. Only the sound of the steaming water pouring out of the kettle eased the tense atmosphere.

"Do you need money?" Brian asked in order to offend the man, staring down.

The smile on his face faded instantly. "You think I made it all the way here for cash?"

"Wouldn't surprise me. In fact, that's the only reasonable explanation I find for your…" He took a sip of tea. "…unexpected visit," Brian finished calmly, sticking the knife deeper.

Curt chuckled in disbelief, staring at Brian and shaking his head.

"I meant…is there anything you need?" The tone of Brian's voice remained polite. After all, he wasn't about to lose his temper, Curt wasn't worth it anymore, right?


Curt ran his hand through his hair. "Listen- I was in town and…thought I could stop by to see an old friend. That's all."

"And you couldn't wait for me at the door, could you?" Brian remarked.

Curt smiled seductively. "It's freezing and I had the key- you do the math."

"Right," Brian replied, not wanting to start a discussion and wondering why would he keep the key. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"


The British man turned around.

"So… How you doing?" Curt asked.

Small talk? Alright.

"Well…I'm doing fine, thank you. What about you? Are you still performing?"

"Kind of… Once in a while I have a gig," he replied, putting out his cigarette.

"Good for you," Brian smiled, handing the cup to Curt and feeling a shudder as his hands brushed his. The man stared at him but Brian swallowed softly and moved away. "Are you staying here?"

"Here?" Curt replied, frowning. "Maybe..."

"I meant-" Brian rushed to clarify.

"I know. Yeah, just a few days."

"I assume you…"

Curt settled the cup on the table and Brian noticed those black-painted nails. It was a small detail, but he had always found it particularly attractive. Maybe because it reminded him of the first time he had seen those hands, sliding all over the man's glowing skin.

"I came to see you, okay?"

Brian's head snapped back into reality to look at the blond.

"Oh..." he replied, sipping his tea.

He couldn't deny Curt's presence was bringing back all sorts of feelings. After all the hate he had built up, after all the fights and how much he had demeaned him. After all those nights by his side, wanting him gone. Now- after so many years, he felt just like the first days. But he wasn't about to show it, hell no.

"Alright," Brian muttered, looking up to Curt's storm coloured eyes.

"Alright?" The man snapped.

"Well…What did you expect? I'd swoon, run into your arms?" he asked, placing a hand on his chest overdramatically. "It's been too long."

Brian was lying- there was nothing he wanted more than Curt's regret. But...it was too hard.

"You shouldn't have come," he finished, taking Curt's hand for a second, but he tightened the grip and extended his free hand to bring Brian's face near his. The British's lids dropped closed, he couldn't back off this time.

The smoke was tracing smooth figures around Curt's face, Brian could feel his breath, his eyes flickering up and down and getting caught on his lips- making his judgment tumble down.

"Bullshit," Curt murmured. And before Brian could pronounce another word, Curt had reached out for his shirt to pull him closer. His moves were abrupt and sudden, he bet Curt remembered exactly how to disarm his calm attitude. "Four fucking years and I can still tell when you're lying."

"I'm not," Brian snapped, softly pushing him away. Hating his mighty attitude.

"Whatever," said Curt, walking backwards- still staring at Brian. "I guess you don't mind me leaving, then."

"I'm already used to it." Brian shut his eyes, regretting the words the minute they left his mouth. Shit- he had shown he cared.

The silence seized the room.

"You could have stopped me." Brian heard Curt's voice approaching.

"No. You had made a decision, there's nothing I could have done to change your mind. It wasn't my place, anyway," The British man replied- demanding him to admit some responsibility.

"Yeah, that's just stupid," Curt began, cornering Brian against the breakfast's table. "I didn't want to leave."

"The why did you?" he asked, fighting the pace of his heart beginning to race.

"I thought you'd stop me," Curt's parted lips were now inches away from Brian's.

Brian chuckled bitterly, finally escaping from Curt and heading for the table to sip his tea. "You haven't changed."

Curt remained staring at the table for a few seconds. "I told you I wouldn't." He was right, Curt had warned him he wouldn't from the very first day.

"I...think you should leave now."

"You what?"

"Well...weren't you already doing it?" Brian pointed out.

Curt stared at the British man in disbelief.

"What is it that surprises you?" he asked, finishing his tea. "I've already said it- it isn't my place."

"Fuck you," Curt snapped, heading for the gate.

Brian smiled, shaking his head. "Did you break into my house just to walk right out again?"

"Well, what else can I do Mr. I-don't-give-a-fuck."

"You're being ridiculous."

"Oh, really?" Curt snapped, placing a hand on Brian's shoulder trying to face him and proceeding to imitate Brian's speech- forcing the accent: 'You shouldn't have come, I'm terribly sorry. Would you like nice cup of coffee while I turn you down? That would certainly be the most polite thing to do although it's more painful than shooting your fucking foot.'

"Don't be childish," was all Brian had to say.

"I don't get it. I don't get your fucker attitude."

"It's quite simple," Brian replied harshly. "I don't trust you anymore."

"Oh, you don't trust me?!" Curt yelled, annoyed. "Shouldn't that be my place given that you fucked every living thing every time we fought?"

"You have no right to demand anything. You were the one who left, I was entitled to shag the entirety of Europe if I wanted it."

"And you fucking did. See? You don't give a fuck and you never did."

"That's not the point- sex had nothing to do with it."

"Sex had all to do with it. Because, I gotta tell you- you're one hard to read fucker and the only way you show someone you care is fucking that someone exclusively."

Brian's jaw dropped slightly, before he turned away- whispering. "You should know better than that..."

"Come on, tell me I'm wrong," he demanded.

"You are. I hated it every time, but there was no other way to let you know I was done. There was no possible way to talk to you without you smashing the china against the floor or...threatening to set the house on fire."

"I was freaking out because I knew you didn't fucking love me anymore!" Curt blurted out to Brian's astonishment. But he wasn't about to break, not in front of him.

"Oh, give me a break!" Brian said exaggeratedly. "You were ruining my career, Jerry almost let me go because of your outburst. You became impossible to deal with."

"Jerry's the biggest motherfucker I've ever fucking met and you became worse," Curt explained, pointing at Brian and making him walk backwards.

"Yes, you made it fairly clear the last time," Brian remarked coldly, feeling trapped.

Curt moved away. "God- I'm fucking stupid..."

Brian arched his eyebrows, slightly crooking his head while arranging the lapels of his shirt. Well, I'm not going to disagree.

"You're still the same jerk I dumped."

"I suppose I haven't changed, either," Brian responded calmly before taking the suitcase and climbing up the stairs.

And so Curt looked at Brian straight in the eye before leaving the house and walking into the now-pouring rain. Brian sighed intensely as he continued his way to the bedroom.

He'll soak out there…

Lord, he was so tired…After countless hours on the plane he could really use some sleep. He kicked his shoes to the floor, and laid down on the bed- there were so many words and feelings stuck inside him…

Curt Wild…again, the man who had found the way to break through his defenses. The only one who had reached the authentic him. And the only one he'd ever allow to…

God…they had been so wonderful together at the beginning. They laughed, shared, connected. It had been the first time that Brian, even perfectly knowing himself, had felt as though maybe…he wouldn't lose interest this time. Maybe the other people just weren't that…fantastic.

Those first months were probably the best ones Brian had ever had. The joy, the lust, the comfortable sensation. How they had shared their philosophies, their deepest secrets. How they seemed to know each other for a lifetime.

Brian smiled sadly- they had been so bloody happy. And Brian Slade was never happy… Not that he hadn't had the chance- as a matter of fact, he had had many of them… He stood for what he believed, and he had achieved every goal he had set for himself.

He had worked his entire life to make the best he could of himself- he had started a bloody revolution. He was known of, adored, followed. But he still felt like something was missing… And meeting Curt Wild had got rid of that feeling.

But none of that mattered anymore- Curt had broken his trust…He had sworn not to leave. And it wasn't as though they had split up over some deal breaker- it had been the way they handled things. The thoughts they hadn't shared, the hidden feelings. Looking over almost everything… How tired they were of fighting, trying to figure out what was going so wrong. Maybe that had been the problem…They were tired of trying.

And Brian only trusted in people once. He believed that if someone failed you, they were no longer worth trying again. That was his rule, but Curt wasn't much of a rule follower…

Curt had broken all of Brian's systems. He had changed his life- Brian knew Curt's inspiration had been quite a big part of his success. He was his muse, his… He was just his.

And Brian felt so much stronger with Curt, because he seemed so bloody secure about everything. He said what he thought and did what he wanted and honestly didn't care about what others thought. He did what he felt like and that was it. No rationalization, no interior conflicts.

The man took over the world…

Maybe that was what Brian lacked of- spontaneity. That was Curt's charm- he was so...raw. And Brian was so dragged by his personality. Not to mention how insanely good looking the man was.

And how much chemistry there was between them. Curt made him feel so drowned and lost…in the best ways imaginable.

Brian shifted his weight on his side, sighing at the oncoming reminiscences. It wasn't fair- too much time had passed for these feelings to still be so strong.

Why didn't they just…wash away? Why it was so hard?

He curled his fingers into the pillow, fighting back the realization. It couldn't be, it simply couldn't. The man's lids fluttered closed as he struggled not to read his doubts. Did he still…love him?

The bell tore Brian from his reverie, snapping him back into reality. What on earth...? He wasn't expecting anybody and, well...Curt had the key.

He climbed down the stairs, ready to tell whomever was at the door that it wasn't a good time. And he was beyond surprised when he discovered the soaked blond stood on the porch. His dripping hair was plastered to his neck, his clothes to his body and the eyeliner had formed long tears down his cheeks. He looked so...sorrowfully beautiful.

"Don't you..." Brian began, confused.

Curt took the key out of his pocket and handed it to him. "Here."

The man stared at the small object. He knew what he was doing- showing him...respect. He was asking for Brian's permission to walk in his life, instead of pushing himself right into it.

Brian moved away from the door, permitting the man to come in. The blond entered the house and remained silent. He couldn't stop moving his foot and occasionally licked his lips. Brian recognized those gestures- Curt was nervous.

So the man closed the door and moved to the rack to look for a pack of cigarettes in his coat. Brian wasn't exactly a smoker, but he did have a tendency to smoke in the middle of a stressful situation. And the last weeks had been rough, with all those meetings to attend and the contracts to sign.

He made his way next to Curt, pulling out a cigarette, lighting it, and taking a drag of his own before handing it to the blue-eyed blond. The man looked at Brian for a minute, before taking the cigarette and shoving it between his lips- sucking the nicotine as though he were breathing fresh air.

Brian played with the pack between his fingers, staring at it. "It's been a while..." he murmured almost to himself, putting back the small box in his coat pocket.

Curt only nodded, taking another deep drag and handing the cigarette back to Brian. The blue haired man took it, and smoked while staring at his shoes.

"I..." Missed you.

The other man glanced at him, somehow reading the look in his dropped gaze. He nodded yet again, letting Brian know he didn't need to finish the line.

"You're not a jerk," was Curt's way to say he was sorry. There was no possible way he would pronounce the actual words. Brian had never heard him say so, ever.

Brian chuckled softly, and looked up to meet Curt's eyes with a subtle smile, handing him the cigarette. "You're not that...impossible." But he was impossible to him, just in a different way. And maybe he had said it out loud to convince himself. "Still..." The man began, to warn him it wasn't that easy...nothing had changed.

"I know," Curt responded softly, taking the last drag.

Brian moved in front of him, glancing up and down the man's body, and removed the cigarette from his fingers. "Why don't you take a shower?" he said, giving Curt a crystal-clear sign that he wouldn't throw him out.

The blond frowned for a moment, trying to read Brian's eyes. The British man smiled almost imperceptibly, but it was beyond enough.

Curt stepped into the tub and turned on the hot water. He was so fucking confused. First, he didn't plan trying to get Brian back- he didn't plan anything really. Second, he had never even thought about the man actually allowing it. So what the hell...?

He had made up his mind that Brian had all the fault. Because the guy knew that there was no way in hell Curt would come back after they split, so he should have came after him and he fucking didn't. It was the least he could have done after treating him like a fucking accessory.

But Brian was being nice to him, at least for now. So he had decided not to hold any more shit against him and just try not to keep fucking things up, see what happens. Yeah... Fuck it.

He got himself out of the shower, wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out, heading for the bedroom to grab some clothing. As he entered the room, a clusterfuck of memories rushed back into his mind.

Curt could see them both- him and Brian. Kissing roughly, shoving each other against the wall- yanking off their clothes to end up naked, squirming on the floor.

And when his eyes shifted to the bed- he saw Brian having breakfast, mock-fighting with him for some stupid reason. Moments later he recognized himself, standing at the bathroom door. Smashing the nightstand lamp against the wall, screaming out of his mind.

It never occurred to Curt how many memories he had hidden in his head, and being in that room unfolded them all.

The man jumped out of his skin when the real Brian interrupted his thoughts. "Oh, you're done," he said, glancing at Curt's body from top to bottom before making his way to the closet to hand him a pair of pants and a shirt. "Get dressed- dinner's almost ready," the man announced, making Curt frown a little bit.

Was he really staying? "Dinner?" Curt asked skeptically.

Brian nodded, walking out of the room. "And make it snappy- I have to bed down early."

Curt resisted the urge to snap some offense as a response. He did get what was going on, though- Brian was letting him know he wouldn't stop his life to take care of whatever they were handling right now. But he was still upset-Brian was the one who had to show him some sort of sign that he wanted him back, not him. He had already made way too much by showing up at the door.

He got dressed and climbed down the stairs to found a fancy dinner on the table. Good china, crystal glasses and shit. He smiled subtly. He had missed that kind of stuff- not because he actually gave a fuck about it but because it reminded him Brian's manners. And, well- because homemade roasted chicken was kinda better than cheeseburgers.

"Thanks," Curt mumbled, taking the plate.

Brian began his meal. "Do you have a hotel?"

Fuck. With all these things in mind he had totally forgotten to check into one. Not that he wanted, anyway. "No," he responded- hoping the conversation would be over. He seriously wanted to stay there, now that he had realized how much he had...missed it. He wasn't sure if he missed Brian yet, but he did miss his life with him.

"There's a nice one a few blocks from here," the blue-haired man replied.

"That's full- all the good ones are," Curt lied. There was no way in hell he'd actually ask him.

Brian chuckled. Shit- did the man read his fucking mind or did he just know him too much? "Alright," was all he said.

The meal continued in silence. Small talk wasn't an option, let alone talking for real- but it somehow it didn't feel that awkward. It felt...good.

Once they were done, Brian collected the plates and turned on the dishwasher. Then he climbed upstairs with nothing but a casual 'Goodnight.'

Curt laid down the couch and let his head drop to the pillow. He had no idea what to do next- no idea why he cared that much either. All he knew was that Brian was upstairs, sure as hell not allowing him to come in the bedroom- showing him there was distance in between them and that it wouldn't be easy to change that.

And he wasn't that sure it was worth it, anyway. He did want to try things out again but it looked like way too much work for something that would probably end up bad again. But for now, it was okay.

Curt took out the pack of cigarettes and lit one before resting on the couch again. Well, maybe Brian was worth all the trouble. After all, he was a talented, famous, rich knock out. But...no, none of that mattered. That was what others saw in him, but he knew better.

Brian was different than anyone he had met. He was such a mystery, and Curt just couldn't help but be strongly curious. Plus, damn- he was smart. Brilliant, actually. His ideas were out of this world, new- refreshing. And he wasn't only a fucking genius but he had the guts to let the world know.

And he was a hell of a good guy too- he had done everything for him without expecting anything in return. He had saved his ass, really. And why? Just cause he had had faith in him, in his music, in his mindset. And well- cause the man could see things no one did. Not only in people but in art, and life itself. He was kind of a...visionary. Jeez, he was a goddamned gem.

Curt put out the cigarette and settled on the couch so he could get some sleep. And he probably did for about two hours before he heard the wood creaking under Brian's feet.

He turned around to see the British man, pouring himself a glass of water. It was then that Curt felt oddly nervous- he wasn't ready for any kind of exchange, and he was really sleepy- too sleepy to stay clear-minded. He knew that if Brian came near him, he'd just grab the man by his shirt and pull him to the couch with him. And Brian probably wouldn't push him away but Curt would have fucked it all up, and he knew it.

So he closed his eyes again, and then heard Brian coming toward him. But, again- he didn't dare look. As soon as he felt the man climbing back up to his bedroom, Curt eyed a blanket next to him that hadn't been there a minute ago.

Curt woke up at noon, disturbed by the noise of the door slamming and Brian's feet rushing upstairs. He rubbed his eyes to clear the sleep, and quickly followed the man to his bedroom.

"Shit," Brian hissed- taking a folder out of his briefcase and riffling through the papers.

"What's going on?" Curt asked narrowing his eyes, still adjusting to the daylight.

"They have to be here, unless..." Brian trailed off, biting down on his lips and shutting his eyes. Collecting himself, he moved to the phone on the nightstand and rapidly dialed a number, sitting down the bed. "Hello, James?" he asked with a raised tone of voice.

What the hell was going on?

"Listen to me, you ungrateful little bastard- I'm going to sue you!" he yelled at the phone.

James? Wasn't that his lawyer?

"Yes, you bloody well are! He already called you, didn't he?" The British man began biting his nails, focusing on whatever he was listening to.

"What? No," he suddenly snapped. "Do not lie to me, do you think I'm daft? You were the one who was supposed to-" Brian held his head, and ran a hand through his hair, sighing in worry.

Curt moved next to the man, and picked up the papers, trying to figure out what was going on, but couldn't really understand. He had seen them before, and all he knew was that they had something to do with money. And judging by Brian's reaction...it looked pretty bad.

"No, I will not calm down," the man continued, getting more and more upset as he heard the responses. "They're not there! And Jerry doesn't have them either- I just talked to him. He said you-" Brian stood up, taking the phone and pacing all around the room, listening to whatever James was saying and taking deep breaths, trying his best to calm himself.

"Then where in heaven's name are they?!" he snapped loudly. "I just came from the bank, and there's nothing there. And the side accounts-"

Curt stood up, looking at Brian and raising his eyebrows so he would give him some sign of what was happening. The man raised his free palm, silently indicating for Curt to wait. "And you can go fuck yourself!" he screamed before hanging up.

Curt widened his eyes, Brian hardly used the word 'fuck.' Yeah, pretty fucking bad. "What the fuck?"

"Curt, this is not a good time- alright?" Brian responded before storming downstairs and leaving the house for the rest of the day.

Jesus Christ. The British man sipped his glass of wine, trying to calm his nerves. It was already midnight. And he simply couldn't believe how so many things could change in one single day.

He had called Jerry in the morning, announcing he'd take his profits to finally settle down in London. But...as it turned out, there was no money in the regular accounts. And the only ones who had the files to access the ones where they had hidden it when Brian had been charged, were James - his lawyer- and Jerry.

But those papers were supposed to be in the safe, in the bank- where no one but Brian could touch them. He had no idea the bastards had kept them.

So, obviously, they both blamed each other and the papers were still nowhere to be found. All of it together, along with the title of property of the Manhattan apartment, the house in Greece, and the small recording studio he owned...

All gone.

After stressful never-ending hours, he had finally figured it out- there was no papers, because there was no account...and no properties...

Basically...they were screwed. Jerry had made some shockingly bad investments with the money earmarked to cover the tours. He had tried to balance the numbers by selling the properties, but it wasn't even close. Which meant he was in debt for the entirety of expenses from the last...three bloody years, 'approximately'. It was some serious money.

And as though all of this wasn't enough to want to jump off the bridge, Curt was gone. And he knew he was probably offended for how he had ignored him. And Brian was definitely not in the mood to explain the situation or even try to. He had bigger problems to take care of.

For instance- what the hell was he going to do? Even if he sold the house- which he adored- and everything he had it wouldn't still be near enough. Maybe he could get close by auctioning his belongings but he'd still have to find a job- there was no way out of that one.

But he was so angry. Not only at the two worthless men but at himself too. Because he knew hiding the money from the government would cause him troubles in the future. And now, he couldn't sue the bastards because of it. If he initiated a trial, they could easily send him to jail. Which meant he was stuck and fruitless.

The bell rang, and Brian simply didn't want to be near anybody until he could figure what to do next. But he had his manners, so he ultimately opened the door.

"Okay," Curt said, stepping into the house. "You're gonna tell me what the fuck happened today?" he asked, heading for the kitchen.

"It's fine," Brian responded, hiding his nerves and forcing his voice to remain steady. "I've solved it." Of course he hadn't, but he simply didn't want Curt to know. He didn't want him to worry, and mostly- he didn't want him to try to help.

"That's lucky," Curt replied sarcastically. "Cause given what I got from this morning- you were kind of fucked."

Brian shut his eyes, sighing sharply. This was exactly what he was trying to avoid. "Well, that's none of your bloody business- is it?" he snapped. He was so pissed.

"Jerry did it, right?" Curt asked with a smug smile while lighting a cigarette, but it came out more like a statement than an actual question.

Marvellous. Now he had to deal with the fact that Curt had been right about Jerry. Wasn't that 'lucky'? Although now that he thought about it...how had he figured it out? It was suspiciously accurate.

Brian didn't respond. His entire life was chaos. He had no idea what to do with one thing or another. He wanted Curt to leave the house because he knew he had no time left to spend. But he couldn't just throw him out. Truth be told- he didn't want to.

"Listen..." he began quietly. "I'm not sure this is quite a good time for this." Jesus, Curt wasn't going to listen, he'd probably lose it and Brian didn't want to be there when that happened.

The blond took a sharp drag. "What do you mean?" he asked, eying him warily.

"For...us, I mean." There was no us for God's sake, but he knew Curt wouldn't understand if he put it in some other way. "You can still stay, though," he said softly, feeling guilty and idiotic for changing his mind so abruptly. "But...you should know nothing is going to change." Brian bit down on his lip, stopping the words 'for now' slid from his mouth.

"We'll see," Curt replied lightly.

Why did he look so confident? It made him feel somewhere between frustrated and comforted. The man hadn't changed in the slightest...

"I mean it," Brian remarked, staring at the man's azure eyes. "I'm not in a good place right now."

"Brian," Curt said, making his way around the kitchen table to stand in front of him. "...you never were," he whispered.

The British man remained silent. Curt was spot on, those had been the exact same words he had told him when Curt announced they were in an exclusive relationship. And Brian suddenly felt the memories creeping in...

"Could you respect that?"" the man said, pulling the remembrances back in. His tone warmer than he had intended it to be.

"Listen," Curt blurted out, completely changing the tone of his voice. "I'm sick of this shit- it's not like I'm trying to get us from zero to sixty or something," he began as Brian frowned slightly, backing off. "We know each other- so we shouldn't be bouncing around the topic like fucking school-"

"Well, what did you expect?" Brian cut him off. "I can't do this, I-"

"I'm not asking you to do anything," Curt snapped, taking a short drag of his cigarette. "I'm telling you it's easier."

"No, it's not," Brian replied, staring at the man straight in the eye. "I don't want to talk about it anymore," he said firmly as he turned around.

"No," Curt snapped, taking Brian and turning his body so he could face him. "Don't give me that shit- I'm fucking talking to you."

"And I don't want to hear you," Brian snapped, escaping from Curt's grip and pushing the man away.

"Well that's too fucking bad," Curt responded, the anger beginning to raise in his voice as he put out the cigarette. "I've put up with your shit too fucking long, and I'm not going to do it again. You let me in, why?" he asked, raising both eyebrows and approaching Brian abruptly.

"No. Why did you come back?" Brian snapped, annoyed. He refused to answer Curt's question, and he doubted he could actually find a response for himself.

"To see you, not to fucking marry you!" Curt yelled, now taking off his jacket.

"Well, you've already seen me," the British man replied matter-of-factly.

Curt approached closer, as though he were coming to Brian to attack him. "Don't fucking do that, you know what I mean."

"No, I don't," Brian replied upset, he had no idea what Curt really wanted. "I don't understand, and I'm not sure I want to."

"I just wanna spend time with you- why's that so fucking hard to get?!" Curt yelled. Brian could see him fighting back the anger going through his body.

"Because I don't know how to do that," Brian replied. Not with you. Not anymore.

Curt's fingers curled into a fist as he lifted the lighter, about to throw it against the floor. "That's just stupid," he replied. Brian knew Curt had no idea what he was talking about. And he got beyond irritated when that happened.

He couldn't do a casual relationship, let alone an actual one. But he didn't want Curt to leave, he needed time- he needed proof. A base to set his hopes on, something realistic, tangible.

"I need time," Brian said honestly, shutting his eyes at the anger that provoked him Curt pushing his thoughts out of him.

Curt finally smashed the lighter, and it blew up as it hit the floor- stunning Brian at the violent sound. "You had four fucking years!" he said furiously.

"I can't do it!" Brian yelled in pure frustration.

Curt advanced Brian until he hit the wall, his eyes burying into his. "But you sure as fuck can do it with fucking anyone else," he remarked. And Brian knew he was again referring about the strangers he shared the bed with. And he was sick of it, even if it cost him part of his pride- he needed to let him know how mistaken he was.

"Do you know what I was thinking every time I shagged someone?" he asked, his voice affected at Curt's proximity. His fingers curling into a fist against the wall, forcing himself not to touch the man as he spoke."'God, I wish he were Curt...'" he mumbled letting his lids drop closed. "'Christ, Curt was so much better,'" he gushed enthusiastically, feeling caught by all those times he had kept this from himself.

Curt's eyes fluttered closed as he heard his name coming from Brian's lips. The British man stared at him, and couldn't help but swallow softy, struggling to want the man away.

The atmosphere tensed with the a dead silence.

"But I finally got over it," Brian snapped, breaking the quietness, his voice suddenly changing. "And you have no idea how hard it was- that's why I'm simply not going to risk putting myself through that..." the man paused, noticing Curt's mouth inches away from his. "...again," he finished. His breath hitched in his chest at the blond's closeness.

For a moment, Brian Slade gave into the urge to take the man's face with both hands and dive into his mouth, immediately feeling the man's hands taking the lapels of his shirt to shove him against the wall. A tantalising shudder climbed up his spine, as he felt the realization hitting him. He didn't want Curt to stop- in those briefs moments he couldn't conceive the idea of not missing the man's warmth.

A surprisingly soothing feeling relaxed his muscles, letting the blond take the control for a few seconds. But just as quickly, Brian felt the anger crawling back in. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to break the kiss while Curt only pressed him further. His strong arms keeping him in place while Brian's determination threatened with vanishing.

But the man held on his rage, drawing enough strength to push Curt away as strongly as he could manage, sending him to hit the table as he balanced his weight.

"I..." he murmured under his breath, staring at the man's confused heated expression. But then, he realized there was no words that could possibly explain his presents feelings. Brian was well aware the feelings were still there, locked in his heart and wrapped around his body- but he refused to admit it.

So he shook his head, took a deep breath and decided to climb the stairs into his bedroom. As he rested his head on the wood, Brian tried to fight back the reality- Curt was getting too close…

Author's Note:

English isn't my first language, if there's any kind of mistake, that's why :) If you liked the story I'd really appreciate a review. Suggestions are also welcomed.