Chapter Text
Thursday
Noel woke up and immediately put on his Smiths records. How soon is now, then? Did we ever get an answer on that one?
Liam suddenly yawns uproariously. He sits up in bed.
“I love this one,” he comments. “Bit of energy to it, d’y’know what I mean?”
“Pure class,” says Noel, smiling.
Liam rubs his neck.
“Noel.”
“Yeah?”
Noel’s rummaging around in his gear bag, looking for his papers and weed.
“I wanted to talk, about, um, tomorrow.”
It’s Friday. He’s moving into his new place. Soon as they get back down south from their Edinburgh gig.
“Tomorrow never knows,” Noel informs him, hand all the way down his bag now.
That does get a small laugh out of Liam. But he seems preoccupied.
“I won’t be alone,” he says in a rush. “I’m seeing this girl, y’see. Nic. And I might ask her to stay with me, an’ all that tackle. If she wants, like. Early days, y’know-”
Rambling.
“Nicole out of All Saints,” says Noel.
Liam looks stricken, or horrendously relieved, or something.
“You know?”
“Of course I know, you div,” says Noel (fondly).
“They practically put it on the nine o’clock news,” admits Liam.
Noel’s not possessive, not controlling like that. Not so much. Sometimes Liam wishes he’d fly off the handle. Chain him to the bed or whatever.
But at the end of the day, this gritted-teeth neutrality is a good thing.
“I really like her.”
Why the fuck am I rubbing his face in it? he wonders, then.
But Noel doesn’t act offended.
He’s found his stuff; starts making up his spliff.
“Actually, Liam, I wanted to talk to you, too. Talk general, like.”
Oh?
And then it’s just about the new album. Studio time that needs booking, etc.
Liam relaxes.
.
It’s not despite the fact that they’re brothers. It’s because, it’s purely because.
Liam didn’t fancy men. There’s just this thing with Noel, which isn’t even gay, like. Something else, maybe.
He’d pawed around in the dark looking for some natural aversion, like a man trying to find a light switch in a darkened room, but he just hadn’t found any.
Liam was still fascinated with Noel, like he couldn’t believe this creature was his brother.
Quiet, complicated.
He’d snap at you as soon as look at you, he’s so … prickly. He can be defensive. And yet, he is the most tender sweethearted lad Liam knows.
Noel has a softness; you get tiny priceless glimpses of it. When he sings. When Liam got him to laugh. When he buys him little presents. And big presents. When they were just on the cusp of falling asleep, and Noel would roll over to cuddle Liam as close as humanly possible. Don’t say a fucking word, kid. Alright? Just for you, this is. When he let Liam hold his hand.
His helplessly bright smile. The fact that he doesn’t realise just how charming he is. And those songs.
.
Friday, early morning. Edinburgh
Liam left his room, at seven o’clock, and took off on a run around the town. Got back, got washed up, and threw on some clothes. Beatles t-shirt over a long-sleeved black jumper. Goes to bang on Noel’s door, but realises it’s open.
Noel’s passed out, dead to the world — jeans still on, top half bare. Liam hovers. He puts a hand to the front of his trousers, rubs lightly. Then Noel rouses.
‘Bout time — it’s nearly midday.
.
Liam pushes his head into Noel’s chest like he’s trying to get inside him. Fervent hands grasp Noel’s waist and pull him closer.
He doesn’t want sex this time, he wants everything else. Whatever’s beyond sex.
Liam collapses on top of him, beaten.
After the gig last night, he’d felt exorcised, somehow. Like he’d finally hit the thing he’d been aiming for all these years.
Surely, he thinks, this will make itself felt with Noel.
He pushes his face further into Noel’s chest.
“‘Ey,” says Noel, raising Liam’s head for him, with a finger under his chin. “Where’s my Liam, then?”
“Here,” he says.
Always will be.
“Ah, good.”
Noel leans down and kisses Liam on the mouth. “Had me worried.”
He won’t leave him. It’s Liam’s fucking band, isn’t it?
Noel’s hand plays with his brother’s collar, finger tracing the skin just under the hem.
Liam waits for more.
They’re in Noel’s room for once. It feels like a consummation. Liam’s final step in his long pilgrimage, to where Noel’s been waiting for him.
When they’re together, it’s like a gang of two — united against that distant crowd, the world.
He pulls Liam up towards him, roughly. Liam tries to crawl up to help, obey.
He straddles his lap, pushes his hips into Noel’s until they catch and Noel makes a sound in the back of his throat.
He holds Liam in place, firmly, and kisses him again, pushing his tongue into his open mouth.
There’s some way that Noel’s found, unknown to others. A way to be worshipful and in control at the same time.
It keeps Liam where he is.
They stay there, Liam rubbing himself against Noel’s body, like they could get closer than just skin-to-skin contact if they try hard enough. Melt into each other.
Noel turns them over.
He takes his belt off; the buckle clinks as it lands on the hard wooden floor, and Liam feels the sound in his stomach.
He arches into Noel — Let me have it, one last time. Sustain me for the next few months.
He rocks Noel on his hips. Smiles sweetly up at him, asking: Just like the very first time, huh, brother? D’you remember?
Noel kisses him again.
Yes.
Noel pulls Liam’s tops off, both together; lets Liam tug his jeans down.
Liam goes to take his own trousers off. Noel covers his hands, gently removes them.
He’s got that implacable look on.
He pulls Liam’s trousers off himself. And his underwear.
Liam makes a whiny noise, quickly muted by Noel’s mouth.
Hands bracket his waist.
They’re both naked. Noel could kiss for hours; Liam’s so ready, he can’t stand it a moment longer.
He breaks off.
“Can we hurry it up, Noel?” he pleads.
Noel shakes his head, and tugs Liam back, to meet his lips again.
Liam is bright enough to see, there’s only one way to get it.
He wraps his arms around Noel’s shoulders and back, like there’s nothing else in the world he could possibly depend on. He softens his whole body, kisses back more meekly, takes it slowly, slowly. Gives him all he’s got.
He licks at Noel’s mouth, Look at me. You won’t have me next week.
His mind feels so young. Unruly, but trusting.
Noel, finally, moves, and gets what they need.
Liam pushes his own fingers in, just to get started, while Noel is turned away momentarily. Being helpful, like.
“Let me, angel,” Noel says. “I want to.”
Liam stops being helpful.
Noel kneels in front of him, between his slender spread legs. I’ll get you ready for me.
Liam sneaks a hand up and gets his hand on Noel. His brother’s hips jerk forward, and he moans, letting him continue.
He kisses Noel again, so messily that they both taste the salt of their sweat against their lips.
Noel doesn’t need to ask whether Liam is ready. They don’t need to talk anymore; it’s second nature.
First nature, even.
Liam feels Noel push in. He’s always so sure.
Sure that sunshine follows thunder; sure that they can do this.
Noel fucks into him.
Liam grabs Noel’s arm and wraps it around his own. He clasps it.
He’s sure, as well.
.
Afterwards, Noel wipes spit from Liam’s face, and kisses him. Liam turns them over, and kisses Noel on the cheek. A goodbye-for-now kiss. But he doesn’t leave.
They’ve spent their whole lives looking forward, so they can’t start looking back now.
There’s just the eternal present.