Earthbound
by Keiko Kirin

Not a day went by when he didn't crave it. The rehab was taking, the methadone was working, but nothing took away the craving in his mind. You could cure the body, but smack took your soul, and nothing cured that. Like losing a lover. Yeah, Curt thought with a smile, a heroin widower.

---

This was far out. Brian Slade. The name had been vaguely familiar but Curt had never heard his music. Now he was sitting across from Slade and making a record deal. This was a crazy, groovy trip.

They were in some snooty hotel, having 'tea'. Toasting the future with champagne. The place was bright and sparkling, making Curt's eyes hurt so he kept squinting until he realized the radiance was coming from somewhere else. It was coming from Brian.

He couldn't keep his eyes off of Brian. Beautiful like nothing else. Bedazzling. This guy was the man. He was the dude. Brian smiled shyly at him and Curt felt the rush kick in. A vein-dredging, mind-blowing high he'd never felt without a needle in his arm. The ever present craving became something else.

---

Finally the corporate ball-and-chain left them alone. Found them a room and departed with a quick, dirty-joke wink to Brian. Brian rolled his eyes as the door shut.

Okay, Curt thought, how to seduce him? When groupies dropped to the floor in front of you and spread their legs, you didn't need to learn the art of seduction. He stole a glance at Brian and decided seduction didn't make sense, anyway. Curt was the one seduced.

They sat together on the sofa in uncomfortable silence, then their eyes met and they simultaneously laughed nervously. "Would you like a drink?" Brian offered. "I think Jerry sent up some champagne."

"Cool."

Brian poured them champagne and sat down again, turning so he could watch Curt. Curt held the glass without drinking because he was too entranced looking at the most beautiful creature on earth.

Brian gave him that same shy, euphoria-inducing smile. "What are you thinking about?"

Curt was thinking about how pale the sun was in comparison to Brian's brilliance, and how every cell in his skin yearned to touch Brian, and how the world could never go dark again as long as those lips smiled at him. Caught off-guard, he replied, "I was thinking about making love to you."

Brian's eyes widened and he seemed startled, anxious, maybe a little frightened (god, no, not frightened, please). "Oh," he said in a hushed tone.

"What are you thinking about?" Curt asked quickly.

Brian lowered his eyes, and looked up again from under long, dark lashes. "Well, now I'm thinking about the same thing."

Curt smiled, and Brian smiled back, and no music and no drug could ever be this good. Without a word -- his eyes did all the communicating -- Brian unknotted his scarf and slid it off. Curt stood and took off his leather jacket, glanced over at the bed, and stopped.

Now it was Curt's turn to be afraid. He felt a little lost all of a sudden. Lust, sex, desire -- they were there, but it wasn't the same need, the same craving. "Maybe..." he started, trailing off in his confusion.

Brian stood up and got near to him, and kissed him softly and slowly. Worlds were born in that kiss. Heavens caught fire and spun away into infinity, while the cosmos tilted and reordered itself around the tender touch of their lips.

After they'd floated across several light years, Brian drew back just enough to whisper, "Maybe what?"

"Huh?" Curt said, before drawing him into another universe-altering kiss.

---

All they did was kiss. Kiss after endless, soft, passionate kiss. Time was non-existent because each kiss was eternal. When Curt came back to earth, they were on the bed, fully clothed, wrapped in each other's arms. It was dark and quiet, and Brian was falling asleep, lips still touching Curt's. Curt embraced him closer and succumbed to the lure of dreams.

---

The next day Jerry had organized a series of intrusions into their time together, and Curt spent most of it trying to get Brian alone. In the men's room, behind a door, in an elevator... Stealing kisses which were always returned with equal ardor. It was a fun, but frustrating, game.

When at last it seemed like they would be left alone at dinner, a woman with short, golden hair very much like Brian's joined them at their table. Brian turned to Curt and looked apologetic as he made the brief introduction, "This is Mandy."

Curt smiled at her. "Hi, Mandy."

Mandy merely gave him a sharp, cold look and said, "I'm Brian's wife."

Wife? Okay, this was a surprise, but Curt was cool with it. Chicks were nice, although not his usual scene, and he'd certainly never wanted to marry one. He smiled again and said, "Hey, that's groovy."

Mandy stayed with them during dinner, tense and quiet. Curt tried to stay out of their marriage vibes, but it was hard not to see what was happening. Mandy, jealous of him and resentful of Brian, lashed out, but Brian didn't seem to care. Curt sensed they'd staged these little battles before. He also got the clear impression that Mandy never won them. It was so far removed from the glittering heaven he had found with Brian that Curt could watch it all with a genuine detachment.

When they finished dinner, Mandy left first, giving Curt a severely polite good-bye. With a shy look, Brian said quietly, "I'd better go after her. I don't really feel like having a row."

Curt smiled reassuringly. "It's cool." He was used to living with his cravings, and this marriage thing was out of his league. He was the other woman, he realized with a laugh. Brian smiled at him then, and that made everything all right.

---

He didn't see Brian again until the next morning, when he was awakened by a weight landing in his bed. Curt blinked his eyes open to see Brian spread out on his stomach, propping his head up on his fists, smiling.

"Good morning," Brian greeted him.

Curt groggily reached for his first cigarette of the day and rasped, "Good morning."

Brian rolled over onto his back and flopped up until he was sitting against the headboard. "What shall we do today?"

Curt lit his cig and took a deep, life-restoring drag. "Where's Mandy?"

"Mandy went back to England. To start preparing for the tour." Brian's tone was matter-of-fact, betraying no hint of regret or relief. Still, Curt could sense the battle had been won.

"I don't suppose she took Jerry with her," he said, smirking.

Brian slid alongside of him and kissed his cheek. "No. Someone has to take care of me, after all." He smiled ironically and Curt chuckled, leaving his cigarette in the ashtray so he could fold his arms around Brian and kiss him properly.

A few hours of kissing later, Brian asked again in a whisper as soft as silk, "What shall we do?"

It was very tempting to give in to lust, but more tempting was waiting until waiting was no longer possible. After all, if just kissing Brian was giving Curt such a headrush that even heroin was beginning to pale in comparison, what must fucking him be like? He couldn't even imagine.

Brian seemed to be thinking along similar lines, or reading his mind, because he sat up again and smiled. "Take me sightseeing. I've never been to New York before."

Curt stretched and looked at the skyline visible from the window. "Let's go to the zoo."

"The zoo?" Brian laughed. "Whatever for?"

Curt grinned at him. "To visit my relatives?"

Brian curled against him again and murmured, "Ah yes, I'd heard that rumor about you. That you were raised by wolves."

"Wolves?!" Curt snorted, tousling Brian's hair. "No way, man. It was tigers."

"Ooo," Brian said, kissing Curt's unshaven jaw. "How dangerous. I didn't know there were tigers in America."

Curt did a tiger growl in Brian's ear. Brian squirmed a little and giggled, a surprising, incredible sound. Curt wanted to wrap him up in his arms and never let go, but Brian slithered away, across the bed, smiling seductively at him. Curt felt his insides twist with anticipation and grinned, loving the game even more.

"The zoo it is," Brian said, getting up and moving toward the door. "I'll have a car sent round to take us."

---

Brian had this fantastic fur coat that swept down to his ankles, a huge fucker that looked like something an old movie star like Joan Crawford would've worn. He looked great in it, Curt thought admiringly as they stood in front of the tiger pen. No tigers were visible. Brian huddled in his gigantic coat and pouted.

"I don't like the cold," Brian declared, scowling at the empty pen. "They say winter babies never do."

"Winter babies?" Curt puzzled over this for a moment, leaning over the railing and trying to see into the cave at the back of the pen. "Oh. You were born in winter. I get it." He glanced back at that amazing coat and grinned. "Well, in that thing, I don't think you'll have to worry about the cold. Although if we go by the grizzly bears, one of them might mistake you for his wife."

Brian chuckled. "Or husband. What are you doing?"

Curt finished climbing over the railing and slid down to the ground. He crouched and approached the cave. "Mommy?" he called softly, in a sing-song little boy's voice. "Daddy?"

"Curt..." Brian said, laughing. Curt listened to that magical sound as he made his way to the cave. Suddenly there was movement, and a tiger poked its head out and stared at him. Curt stopped and stood up straight, staring back.

"Mom? Is that you?" The tiger continued its unwavering inspection of him, then blinked and stalked back into the cave. Curt turned around and saw that a handful of strangers had gathered by the pen, Brian in their midst, watching him and laughing. Curt grinned and bowed and scrambled up and over the railing.

"Quite the reunion," Brian said as Curt joined him. "Very touching."

Curt grabbed him and gave him a deep, passionate kiss in front of all the strangers, then led him to the grizzly bear pens.

---

Their trip to the zoo was the last time they were left alone in New York, a fact which, had Curt known it beforehand, might have changed his mind about waiting to satisfy his lust. But he managed all right, chain-smoking and enjoying watching Brian bask in all the attention. Interviews, parties, clubs… Jerry made certain Brian met all the stars of New York's elite, many of whom Curt recognized as leeches he'd escaped long ago. Brian didn't need to be warned about them, Curt noted with interest. Brian seemed singularly unimpressed with all of them.

"They're not original," Brian said disdainfully when Curt asked him about it. "Not like you."

Curt laughed at this. "I'm not original. I'm just another angry dude screaming on stage."

Brian smiled. "And dropping your trousers. Maybe the act itself isn't original, maybe even the music isn't, but you are. There's only one Curt Wild in the world, and everybody knows it."

They were in public, in a bar not listening to the thrashing, wailing band Jerry had wanted Brian to see. Curt slipped an arm around Brian's waist and took a drink of beer. "There's only one Brian Slade in the world, too."

Brian pressed a little closer, casually covering Curt's hand with his own. "Oh yes. I'm making sure of that."

Curt wasn't completely certain what he meant, but he liked Brian's confidence, arrogance even. It was the honest arrogance of a man who can't imagine things being any other way.

---

Curt grew increasingly impatient. The schedule of endless parties and club-hopping meant they couldn't even be alone together in the evening, and when they returned to the hotel, Brian would collapse on the bed, worn out by long, busy days. Despite his lustful desires, Curt cherished the quiet simplicity of those nights: stretching out on the huge bed and watching Brian, bathed in moonlight and looking peaceful, though never innocent. If anything, sleep enhanced Brian's carnal sensuality by accentuating the lush curves of his lips, the subtle flicker of his dark eyelashes as he dreamt, and the smooth planes of his body in complete repose, half hidden by his satin robe and the luxurious hotel bedsheets.

He sleeps as if he knows he's being watched, Curt thought one night as Brian sprawled decoratively next to him, one hand upturned and resting against the pillow, the other draped artistically over an exposed bit of thigh. Even in sleep Brian Slade was perfectly posed. It only added to his allure.

He kissed Brian on the lips, careful not to wake him, and half hoping Brian would wake up anyway. But Brian slept on until late morning.

---

They flew back to England later that day, and were met by a crazy rush of press and flashing camera bulbs -- and Mandy. She greeted Curt with the frosty civility he'd expected as she latched onto Brian and started to lead him through the maze of journalists and photographers. Brian, however, stopped and reached for Curt, hooking an arm around him and pulling him along.

---

It was a very groovy room. Big and old-fashioned and decorated with the wildest, most expensive furniture Curt had ever seen. He sat down and bounced on the bed and laughed. "Far out."

Brian smiled at him and leaned against the door. "Mandy and Jerry wanted to put you up in some hotel, but there's plenty of room here. I've never needed eight bedrooms for myself."

Curt lit a cigarette and winked at him. "One for each lover?"

Brian scowled, but Curt was sure it wasn't for real. He stretched across the bed and smoked his cigarette. He could sense Brian watching him and it made him ache for Brian's touch, for a kiss, for even a word. Everything had changed once they'd landed in England, he realized. This was Brian's world. In New York, it had been no one's world, so they'd been free, despite the demands Jerry and the others had put on them. Here... Curt involuntarily thought of the zoo.

"I must be going," Brian said at last. Curt nodded, not looking up. If he looked now, it was only going to hurt more. "I don't want to go, but it's all arranged. An interview, photographers are coming, the whole lot. A bloody nuisance."

Curt exhaled and watched the smoke curling in the air. "Yes, you do. You enjoy it. The attention. Being seen." It was merely an honest statement of fact. To show that Brian couldn't lie to him.

During the long silence that ensued, he relented and glanced up. Brian was staring at him, looking surprised and angry. And incredibly vulnerable. For an instant, Curt flushed with shame, an alien, uncomfortable emotion which he shed quickly. He stood up and cautiously approached. He cupped Brian's face in his hands, fingers gentle on that smooth, lovely skin, and silently gazed into Brian's eyes until Brian embraced him.

Ash fell from his cigarette, onto Brian's shoulder. They both glanced at it, startled, and laughed with nervous relief. Curt wet his fingers and pinched his cig, tossing the butt across the room, and Brian brushed the ash away.

"I--" Brian began, but Curt silenced him, touching a finger to Brian's warm, soft lips. He kissed him slowly, at first with great tenderness, gradually with more hunger and consuming passion. When they drew apart, Brian whispered, "I'll be with you tonight." He kissed Curt's neck. "Wait for me."

Curt hugged him tightly, trying not to shake from anxious desire. "Of course. Of course I will." He let Brian go, watched him disappear beyond the door. 'I know how to hurt him,' he thought, inexpressibly sad because it was knowledge he'd hoped never to have.

---

The moon may have been full, or it may have been just a lamp in the garden outside. Whatever it was, white light poured into the bedroom, casting everything into sharp relief. The light shone through Brian's blue silk scarf as he pulled it off and let it fall to the floor. It highlighted the curves of his neck and shoulders as he stripped off his shirt, and it gave his pale body an almost ghostly appearance as he stood naked, next to the window.

Curt couldn't move for a moment. He just looked, devoured Brian's breathtaking beauty with his eyes, and felt the heat of arousal solidify in his body. He wrapped Brian in his arms and exhaled a shuddering sigh as their naked bodies touched and fit together. The craving was almost unbearable now.

Brian kissed him passionately, with a fierceness Curt hadn't expected of him, but which he instinctively returned. Tenderness turned to desperation and desire turned into raw lust. Their touches became rough, grasping, and greedy, and only fueled the fires burning wherever skin met skin.

Somehow, they made it to the bed. Curt found himself held between Brian's legs -- Brian who was writhing with obvious eagerness, completely unabashed at showing his need and heavy lust. Curt responded by entering and filling him with the strength of his passion and cravings. With their bodies deeply joined, the ferocity of their lust melted into a calm, steady rhythm, heartbeat to heartbeat.

Curt could never have anticipated this. This was perfection. This was something so real, so right, something beyond the fleeting glimpses of heaven heroin had shown him. This was another world, with Brian its center.

Brian held him and stroked him, and showed his joy with each demanding move of his hips and each soft, breathless smile. Curt held nothing back: hammering need, fragile gentleness, desire, love. The frenzied dance he shared with Brian built to a whirling, spinning climax as they reached ecstasy together, holding each other through the freefall of sensation. Curt had never felt higher, and laughed, giddy and drunk, as he came.

Bliss fell and floated around them like confetti. Curt imagined he could see its glittery particles swirling around them as he sank into the haven of Brian's embrace. Brian slid his fingers through Curt's hair, and Curt felt Brian's thudding pulse gradually slow.

"That's never happened before," Brian whispered softly. Curt lifted his head to look at him, completely puzzled. Brian smiled at him and said, "No, I mean... Well. I've never reached quite the same conclusion this way before." He writhed wantonly against Curt. "I rather like it."

Curt understood, and his surprise escaped in a quiet laugh. "Well... far out." Brian grinned and pulled him into a long, thorough kiss.

As they rested, woven together in a tangle of limbs, Brian skimmed his fingers over Curt's back, humming softly. Curt never wanted to move from this warm nest, and kissed whatever bit of skin was within kissing distance. Brian made a quiet sound of pleasure so Curt kissed again, and added a few nibbles.

"I think the album will be full of love songs," Curt murmured against the delicious skin he'd been tasting.

"Oh really?" Curt could hear the smile in Brian's voice.

"Yeah. The best love album ever. An instant classic," Curt chuckled, shifting comfortably as Brian slid a hand over Curt's ass and patted it.

"It was going to be that anyway," Brian pointed out. "Curt Wild and Maxwell Demon." He laughed softly. "The world won't know what hit it."

Brian resumed humming and Curt gradually gave in to sleep, mind filled with love song lyrics and the taste of Brian's skin.

---

Curt woke up far earlier than he'd planned to and watched Brian sleep, caressing him gently and kissing every exposed inch of his body. It seemed like decades passed before Brian stirred, stretching and yawning before drawing Curt into a sweet good-morning kiss. As soon as their lips touched, their bodies filled with renewed hunger, and they made love again, slowly, as if the world beyond their room didn't exist.

But it did, and before long Brian was out of bed, getting dressed, pausing to kiss and smile at Curt. Still high from their lovemaking, Curt resisted resenting the outside world. He caught Brian's arm before Brian could slip away, and stared into his eyes. "Come back to me tonight."

Brian paused, returning his gaze, seemingly unable to move. Then he whispered, "Oh yes. Yes, I will." Curt let him go, content with that answer.

---

Brian wasn't very good at keeping his word, though. It wasn't entirely his fault. Mandy had arranged a last-minute orgy, and Brian was trapped in the whirl of naked bodies and booze and drugs. Curt leaned against the wall and watched until he could no longer stand the pawings of the strangers around him, then he went back to his groovy room. His big, empty, cold, groovy room.

He was half-asleep when the door opened. Very soft footsteps. He rolled over, but before he could say anything, he realized this was not Brian. Brian didn't have long hair and breasts. The girl climbed clumsily into the bed, making a weird sound he thought might be giggling. She was very drunk or very stoned or both. She snuggled against him and promptly passed out. He shrugged, copped a feel of her nice, plump breasts, and went to sleep.

---

"You. Get out."

Curt struggled out of his sleep at the harsh whisper. He had one foot on the floor, then, "Not you. Her. Out."

He blinked. It was still dark in the room, but there was no mistaking the tall, slender, shadowy figure or the annoyed tone of voice. The girl didn't even look to Curt for help; she must have known that you don't disobey an order from Brian Slade. Even before Brian had shut and locked the door behind her, Curt was laughing.

Brian climbed into bed and settled under the covers. Curt had never thought that someone could pout with their whole body, but leave it to Brian to find a way. After a lengthy silence, Curt fumbled around for a cigarette and said, "I waited."

"I know."

"Nothing happened. She just busted in and passed out."

"Yes."

God, this was stupid. Brian had cavorted around at an orgy all night, yet Curt was the one on the spot. He didn't need this. He didn't apologize to anyone for anything. Not even to Brian. Curt was who he was, and if you couldn't take it, too fucking bad. He let his cig die in the ashtray and rolled onto his side. "Well, good night."

All it took was a touch to undo him. One gentle, gliding touch along his arm, and a soft whisper against his ear. "I wanted to run away. I wanted to be with you. The minute you left the room, I felt all alone."

Curt shifted onto his back and caught Brian's hand and held it. "Look. I don't get all heavy and possessive and shit. That's not what I'm into. But you have to make some choices, because I'm not going hang around for nothing. I want to do the record, but that's not what brought me here, you know?"

Brian spread his fingers and wove them between Curt's. He said quietly, "I know. I understand. I do, really, Curt." Curt could see Brian looking up, looking at him. Grey light was just creeping in from the window, and Brian squinted as it reached his eyes. In that moment, Curt felt how fragile Brian was. Brian said, "You're different from everyone else. It's a little..."

Curt smiled. "Scary?"

Brian smiled back, shaking his head. "Well, perhaps. Just a little."

He'd said it teasingly. Curt snapped his teeth and growled against Brian's neck. "You don't have to be scared. Us wolves only bite when we mean business."

Brian wiggled away from him. "Wolves? I thought you said it was tigers."

Curt caught him and pressed him into the bed to keep him put. "I lied," he said, grinning.

"Oh. How naughty of you," Brian murmured, sliding his arms around him.

---

Brian was an astral plain superstar fuck. Making love with him was landing on Mars while shooting up. There was no other high that even came close. Time was spinning around them, away from them. Curt never knew where or when they were, as long as they were together. Some days he'd wake up and find himself onstage, where they were making love with their clothes on, to the screams of the crowd.

But despite the almost continual high, it wasn't all perfection. Brian's entourage kept intruding with parties and press conferences and photo shoots that kept them on the center stage of the public arena, even though it was only too obvious whose was the household name here. Mandy kept her hostility in check, but it was still there, apparent in the cold looks she flashed at them. And there were times when Curt's body rebelled against him and demanded smack. He never gave in to the demand, and those were fucking miserable times.

One morning Curt woke up in an empty bed. Although this wasn't unusual -- Brian occasionally disappeared during the night, going off to keep Mandy happy -- Curt hated waking up cold and alone. He reached for a cigarette but the pack was empty, so he got up to go hunt for another. He paused to look at the sunrise outside and saw Brian sitting alone in the garden. He looked very distant and lost there. Curious, Curt threw on some trousers and his kimono robe and went to join him.

On his way downstairs, Curt met Mandy. She was heading upstairs, green negligee clinging to her body as she slowly took each step. Her platinum bleached hair hung about her face in frazzled waves and remains of yesterday's make-up were smudged around her eyes. Her gaze drifted over him as they passed, then she stopped.

"We might be twins," she said, sounding slightly incredulous, as if she'd just reached this conclusion. Curt examined a lock of his hair, also bleached a platinum blond, and smiled at her.

"Now that would give Brian something to think about."

Mandy sleepily returned the smile and said, "Oh, you always give him that."

She'd just made a concession, he knew. He didn't know what to make of that. "I try to," he replied with complete honesty. She folded her arms over her chest and lifted her chin, shaking the hair back from her face.

"The question is, luv, how long can you keep trying?" Before he could respond, Mandy added, "I've asked myself that a lot lately."

Although Curt had known these things all along, the fact that he was her husband's lover, and that he remorselessly took Brian away from her at every opportunity, were suddenly very vivid and clear. He didn't feel sorry, but it made him curious about Mandy.

"And how long will you keep trying?" he asked her.

Mandy smiled. "As long as it takes. The trouble is, Brian's never going to wait that long. Once he gets what he wants, he starts looking for the next thing he wants." She looked at him steadily.

Curt laughed quietly. "Yeah, I get the message. It might be true, it might not be true. Maybe Brian collects what he wants, instead of throwing one thing out for another."

Something flickered in Mandy's eyes, an emotion too quick and too deep for him to catch and comprehend. Her smile faded a little, but she didn't look sad, just tired. After a long moment, she said softly, "Maybe."

She turned and started back up the stairs, trailing one hand along the bannister. He glanced back, then continued on his way. As he reached the bottom of the steps, he heard her say, "For your sake." Curt didn't pause to puzzle over that, and headed for the French doors leading to the garden.

Brian sat on the ground, dressed only in a pair of loose satin trousers and a billowing silk shirt, unbuttoned. He didn't look up as Curt sat down next to him and helped himself to a cig from Brian's packet. "Hey. What are you doing out here?"

Brian gave him a very subtle smile and said, "Working on a song."

"Sing it for me."

Brian shook his head, but after a moment he said, "All right." Curt stretched out over the ground and rested his head on Brian's lap, forgetting about his cigarette as he closed his eyes and listened. Brian's voice was surprising. It changed for each song, and Curt never knew what to expect. For this song, perhaps because of the quiet dawn, it was soft and breathy, flowing over him like a caress. It was a simple song, with funny, groovy lyrics about stardust and wolves and sea-spray. Curt wondered where Brian got his ideas. They were such complex words for a song about sex, which they all were, according to Brian.

Brian combed Curt's hair with his fingers as he finished singing. "It's not done yet. I need another verse. You'll have a guitar solo."

Curt opened his eyes. Brian was looking up. His face was turned toward the sun that struggled to come out from the clouds, and the smooth column of his throat quivered when he swallowed a breath. Curt imagined licking that throat, his tongue already anticipating the taste that was unmistakably Brian, but he didn't move. He let his gaze wander down Brian's chest, taking note of a hardened, pink nipple.

Curt was thinking about the song. He didn't understand it, but he knew it was about him. It bothered him not to understand it, because this was Brian telling him something. But he could do a guitar solo for the song. If Brian were there, he could do it. Just make love with the music and forget the words.

Having settled that in his mind, his attention went back to that tempting nipple, and he kissed and sucked it. Brian tangled his fingers in Curt's hair and held him as Curt shifted so he could press his hand between Brian's legs. It only ever took a touch to make them both wildly horny, so he wasn't surprised when he felt Brian's cock twitch and swell beneath the satin. He gave a few rubs and licked Brian's nipple, eliciting a low, delighted groan.

Their clothes were in the way. Curt managed to shed his while still tormenting Brian's nipple with kisses, and Brian gracefully slithered out of his trousers and shirt. The cold, dewy grass pricked at his skin as Curt stretched out and pulled Brian over him, wrapping him in a tight embrace that locked their hot flesh together. Brian kissed him and gave a soft laugh, rocking and grinding against him. Curt chuckled and thrust up slowly. He loved this. The way they moved with each other perfectly, and how every touch sent sparks through his veins and up his spine.

Brian captured his mouth with another deep kiss and slid his hands to Curt's hips to hold him as he changed rhythms. Curt caressed him and happily followed Brian's lead. He felt their intimate dance build to a frenzy with sharp thrusting and achingly sweet grinding, then Brian trembled in his arms. The hot, slick pulses of Brian's release bathed Curt's cock, setting off his own shuddering climax. They held each other until the waves subsided, kissing and stroking gently.

The morning air cooled Curt's skin, raising goosebumps on his arms and legs. Brian shifted, half-on, half-off him, and kissed Curt's chest. Curt watched the sun give up its struggle and hide behind the clouds, then closed his eyes and floated in happy aftermath.

A sound woke him up. Someone clearing their throat. He squinted and saw Jerry standing there, staring at them with wide-eyed displeasure.

"Brian," Jerry said in that parental tone of voice Curt despised. "Really."

Curt tightened his arms around Brian and said, "Fuck off." Brian stirred, blinking and scowling and pressing closer to Curt.

"What is it?" Brian mumbled against Curt's chest.

Jerry cleared his throat again but didn't dare answer. You motherfucking hypocrite, Curt thought. Jerry was all for their relationship when it suited him. When it sold magazines and concert tickets.

"We're due in the studio in an hour," Jerry finally said, then walked away. Brian started to sit up and shivered. Curt rubbed Brian's arms, trying to keep him warm, but Brian reached for his shirt.

"We'd better get ready," Brian said. He flopped onto Curt and gave him a dazzling smile that made Curt want to make love to him again. Brian murmured, "History starts today."

---

"Handle him," Jerry hissed angrily.

Did they know the intercom was still on? Curt wasn't sure. He slumped back against the wall and fidgeted for some cigs, watching Jerry and Brian walk from one end of the mixing board to the other.

"Jerry... Give it time. He hasn't had time to learn all the songs yet." Talking about him as if he were a little kid. God, did they fucking know he could hear every word? He kept his eyes on Brian. Brian seemed to sense this, and glanced up. A quick, horrified look, then Brian switched off the intercom. Okay, so they hadn't known. Somehow that made it worse.

They continued talking. Curt glared at them, not believing what he was seeing. Brian calmly discussing him with that sack-of-shit Jerry and pretending Curt didn't even exist. Curt tossed his cigarette to the floor and stubbed it out with his shoe, grabbed his jacket and left.

He was in the front lobby when Brian caught up with him. "Curt... Curt! Where are you going?"

Curt stopped, trying to keep his anger under control. He moved over to the empty reception area and said, "What the hell was that in there? 'Handle him'? Am I some animal you have to keep on a leash?"

Brian stared at him, calm mask not quite slipping into place fast enough to hide his anger. Curt watched with malicious amusement as Brian composed his false smile and said gently, "Of course not. Jerry's just tired. We all are. It's been a long day."

"No kidding. Ten hours in there and you're still not fucking satisfied, are you?"

Brian lost some of his patience. "We'll mix it again," he replied, side-stepping the obvious 'no' in that answer. Then he smiled again, this time a weary, real smile. "You know how it is. Studio is never like rehearsal, never like the show. Everyone wants it perfect."

That smile unknotted some of Curt's fury. He gradually relaxed and looked around the lobby. It was late. Most of the lights were turned off and it was dark outside. He felt like he'd been in the studio for ten days, not ten hours. "Yeah," he agreed quietly. "Gotta be perfect."

Brian stepped closer and hooked his arm through Curt's. "It's going to be perfect. I know it will. I've never produced anyone else before, and I'm going to do whatever it takes to make it perfect. We can get new musicians, new engineers, anything. Whatever it takes." After a brief pause, he added, less certainly, "No matter what Jerry says about the cost."

Curt was thinking that new lyrics, ones he actually felt and understood, might be helpful, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. Those were Brian's lyrics, and Brian had written them just for him. It was just words to sing.

He slid his arm around Brian's waist. "I wish we could just take the songs on tour. Do them live. That's where I really feel a song, you know?"

Brian rubbed Curt's shoulder and was about to say something when the elevator doors opened and Jerry, Mandy, Ethan, and Robbie the engineer stepped out. On the way out, Jerry shot them a fed-up look, Mandy raised one eyebrow, and the others ignored them.

"No one's seeing us as Couple of the Year now," Curt tried to joke. He waited for Brian to say, 'Fuck them,' but all Brian said was, "Come on. Let's go home." There was a quietness in his voice that gave Curt an unpleasant chill.

---

When Brian slid into bed next to him that night, Brian's body was warm and tantalizing and already eager. Curt had drunk away most of his sour feelings, and as soon as he saw the look in Brian's eyes, the only thing that mattered was making love with Brian. He caught Brian between his legs and made a blatant invitation with his body, one which Brian accepted happily, fucking him hard and fierce, and bringing him a universe-rending orgasm.

Afterwards they lay tangled together, one of Curt's calves trapped in a tight coil of bedsheets, and Curt gazed at Brian. Brian smiled lazily, looking content and satisfied. Unnervingly, the thought, Am I seeing you or seeing what you want me to see? ran through Curt's mind.

Brian put on masks for other people. Lived through his persona onstage. But Curt had never questioned that when they were alone, what Brian gave was himself. He wasn't sure why he was questioning this now. More disturbingly, he wasn't sure why he'd never questioned it before.

He kissed Brian's throat and asked quietly, "Were you really upset tonight? Upset at me?"

Brian's fingers paused in their slow exploration of Curt's spine, then resumed their leisurely strumming. "No."

A liquid frost slithered through Curt's veins as he realized he'd asked the question hoping to catch Brian lying. And he had. Curt clumsily freed himself from the bedsheets and sat up.

"Don't lie to me. Never lie to me."

Brian gave him that cold, placid, remote look he usually reserved for Jerry and Mandy. "All right then. I was upset at you. You didn't sing it the way we'd rehearsed and you kept messing up the lines. We spent ten hours on one song, and I'm not even sure we can use it."

The honesty was welcome. Brian's cold way of delivering it wasn't. Curt was torn between anger and relief. He reached for a cigarette, lit it, and exhaled as he said, "If you think I'm not good enough to do it, why the fuck are we here?"

Brian squinted at him, and Curt could tell Brian's patience was slipping away. It gave him a curious thrill.

"If I didn't think you were good enough," Brian said carefully, but plainly angry, "I wouldn't have gone to New York to meet you, or bothered writing songs for you. Why would I waste my time like that?"

It was a dark thrill, not the same dazzling high that Curt usually got when he watched Brian, but it was just as powerful. Curt tossed his cigarette into the ashtray and climbed over Brian, straddling him and pinning him to the bed, kissing him so hard his teeth scraped Brian's lips. Brian responded with the same violent passion, and barely waited for an invitation before joining their bodies together again.

Curt dug his fingers into Brian's shoulders and held him, crashing against him, suddenly laughing. They could do anything. They could turn anger into lovemaking. Everything was real now. Before, it had been heaven; now it was hell and earth, too. All of it was real and all of it was theirs.

Brian rammed into him, and Curt thrashed and writhed and pulled him deeper. He braced his hands on the headboard and panted into Brian's ear, "I hope nobody's next door 'cause this is going to be loud." He laughed and howled his pleasure as he came, and Brian clawed at him, still fucking him furiously, arching as he reached his glorious release.

It was a very long time before Curt came down from the high. The world reordered itself and he kissed Brian's sweaty skin. Brian stirred and lazily slid his hands down Curt's back.

"Amazing, beautiful thing," Curt murmured into Brian's ear.

"What?" Brian asked.

"Us."

Brian smiled and tapped his fingers against Curt's ribs, and whispered, "Oh." Curt kissed the corner of his smile, and realized that it had been a long while since he'd seen that same, shy look -- the one he'd fallen in love with from the very beginning.

---

Brian was sitting cross-legged on the bed, wearing Curt's kimono robe, when Curt woke up. Silently, Brian handed him a cigarette. Curt kissed Brian's thigh as thanks and tried to decide whether to suck him or fuck him after he'd had his cigarette. Slowly, he realized it was a decision he might not have to make. Brian was being particularly remote this morning, not talking, not watching him, not moving.

Curt shifted restlessly, finishing off his cig and letting anger simmer inside him. With it came the dark, erotic thrill he'd felt the night before. He turned to make a grab for Brian's hips and bury his face between Brian's legs. Other than a sharp squirm, there was no response. Curt calmed himself and gentled his stroking. He blew hot breath over Brian's balls and nuzzled Brian's vaguely interested cock.

A few kisses and licks later, it was apparent that this was going nowhere. Curt looked up and tried to make sense of Brian's reaction. Brian was staring at him with an unnerving mixture of longing and accusation that stopped Curt cold. It made no sense. It left him shaken so he moved away and waited for Brian's anger.

Brian calmly rose from the bed, leaned over and kissed Curt's forehead. "We'd better get dressed," Brian said. "We're due at the studio in less than an hour."

Curt watched him in disbelief. "Brian?"

Brian paused from picking out clothes from the closet. "Yes?"

Brian's calm was starting to reignite Curt's anger, but his confusion was more overwhelming. He wasn't sure what to say, wasn't sure what side of Brian he was dealing with now. He got out of bed, went up to Brian and touched Brian's cheek. "Hey."

Brian lightly brushed his lips against Curt's fingers. Curt felt a reassuring warmth there. The ground felt a little firmer under his feet. "We're still making history, aren't we?" Curt asked, smiling. Brian smiled back at him and went back to picking out his wardrobe, and Curt hunted around for his trousers.

It didn't occur to him until much, much later that Brian had never answered him.

(the end)

January-June 1999
Thanks to Kenna, Marie, Jessica, and Gwyneth for their help.