This is the tenth story in the Rewriting History series, and it follows Illuminate In Style. To minimize confusion, (and it confused me, and I *wrote* it!), please be aware that this story opens with the photo shoot scene that, in the movie, occurred BEFORE Brian went to America and met Curt. In my story, cause Brian and Curt have already met *and* fallen in love, the scene now occurs AFTER Brian went to America. In addition, I segued from there to the media circus scene that precedes The Kiss, sorta melding the two press junkets into the same timeframe. I hope that made sense. This story ends right before The Kiss. I thought it deserves its own story. :)

Oh, and Missy, who draws such exquisite pictures of Jonny's characters, has been inspired to do a piece of artwork for this storyline. Maybe even more than one. I can hardly wait. :)

Warnings: m/m, AU, occasional bad language, considerable spoilers for the movie.

~Silk

*****

Come and Court Me

By Silk

Jerry had years invested in Brian Slade. He wasn't going to give up that investment merely because the little twat's lover had encouraged him to pull rank. So he gritted his teeth and lit another cigar. He would show everyone what it meant to be *professional*.

The press was all aflutter, what with Brian's admission that he and Curt Wild were lovers. Jerry used that excitement and Brian's unexpected announcement to further their interest in Brian.

He grinned inwardly. He was going to parade them before the public like a couple of 40's starlets on the swoon. It really was the most delicious irony. It was exactly what Jerry had in mind all along to promote them.

From the moment he'd seen the chemistry between them, he'd known that there was something dangerous and intense and well worth exploiting between Brian and Curt.. But he hadn't expected either of them to want to go public with their affair. After all, it was one thing to *be* in love, and quite another to have the world as both audience and judge of that love.

It wasn't that Jerry had any compunction about using Brian and Curt's relationship. But having their acquiescence, if not actual permission, made it easier-on his nerves, and Brian's, if he cared about such things.

But he tried not to. Life simply went more smoothly when he didn't care. Rock 'n' roll could be a hellish business to be in at the best of times, but it *was* a business, no matter how much Brian wanted to "tart it up like a prostitute." A tart *was* a tart, even in gildy clobber.

*****

"That man in the white suit," Jerry intoned, punctuating his words with an emphatic thrust of his unlit cigar, "is the biggest thing to come out of this country since sliced Beatles."

"But outside of England...they don't know who the hell he is. *I'm* going to change all that," Jerry declared.

Curt snorted, and Jerry shot him an evil look. "What?" Curt asked, snickering under his breath.

Jerry paced in the opposite direction as he continued to address the small elite gathering of the press, then suddenly whirled around to face Curt again. "And *you*, my dear, are going to be the key."

"I am?"

"He is?" Brian and Mandy exclaimed together.

"Yes." Jerry gave all three of them a moment or two to digest his last statement. Curt and Brian wore much the same facial expression. Suspicious. Neither one of them trusted Jerry as far as they could throw him, and they wondered what he was up to. Mandy, on the other hand, felt exceedingly annoyed that someone else was going to be the center of attention. She had waited impatiently while it was Brian's turn, and now? Now it was Curt's turn.

"You can be the complete antithesis to Brian. Black to his white. Dark to his bright." Jerry lowered his voice, and Curt found himself leaning forward.

"Devil to his angel."

Curt blinked. He glanced at Brian, who shook his head almost imperceptibly, but Curt was so tuned in to his lover that he could almost hear what he was thinking. Jerry's trying to divide and conquer. Don't give him an opening.

Curt allowed his mouth to drop open in that charmingly vacant way that he affected when he was totally stoned. "Gee, man, I thought Brian was a...a...*demon*...or something. Wasn't that your name, babe?"

Jerry rolled his eyes and chomped down hard on his cigar. A collective groan went through the small crowd, but Brian smiled mischievously and posed for them, knowing they were avidly eating up every word. "Ha...as you can see, I didn't choose Curt for his *intellect*."

"But then he has certain *other* attributes that more than compensate," Brian purred. As predicted, the group laughed on cue.

Curt looked vaguely affronted. "Hey, you're not exactly a rocket scientist either."

Mandy smirked behind her hand. "He knows you better than you think, Brian," she burbled.

"Oh, shut up. I hate it when you agree with me. It gives me heartburn."

Jerry's mouth widened into what passed for a predatory grin. "Trouble in paradise so soon, kiddies?" he asked softly.

"Fuck you, man."

"Ah, thus spake the man of intellect," Jerry quipped, reaching out to brush a speck of imaginary lint off Curt's black leather outfit.

"You lay one hand on me, man, and you'll be dead so fast that your legs'll hit the ground before your brain gets the message."

"I wouldn't dream of touching you, Curt. Heaven forbid."

"Good. Cause for some reason, Bri here likes you alive. But I don't have a problem making you *dead*."

"Curt..."

"What?"

"Play nice."

Curt's lips curved into a wicked smile that made Brian's cock twitch in his pants. The white silk was thin and drawn so tightly across his thighs that if he even breathed too harshly, it showed.

"I'm always nice, Bri. You know that."

Brian turned and flung his arms out to his sides, looking curiously like he had in the music video for The Ballad of Matthew Demon. His eyelashes swept down to cover his vividly colored eyes for a moment, then he peered out from beneath them, giving their audience a sidelong glance. "Tsk, such a pretty boy...and still he resists being trained...properly."

Brian's voice was so fraught with sexual undertones that no one could possibly mistake his meaning. Curt's cock sat up and begged to be taken out right there, but Curt managed to suppress his desire to pounce on Brian and claim him quite blatantly.

This was fun. Part play-acting, part manipulation...or was that simply another way of saying the same thing? Whatever it was, they were rapidly proving to be better at Jerry's game than he was.

*****

The media feeding frenzy went on all day and continued into the night. By that point, even Jerry was satisfied with the coverage they'd received. But there was more still to come.

Jerry strolled into the wardrobe room and surveyed the costumes available for the evening's festivities. Something official looking, he thought. With a hat, perhaps. He latched onto the cream-colored suit with the braided epaulets with a smile. This would do very nicely. It was so...Sgt. Pepperish.

When he looked up, he saw Shannon studying him. "Ah, just the person I wanted to see."

Shannon was disquieted by Jerry's unconcealed interest in her. She liked her new job, though she didn't have the slightest idea what she was doing. But everyone, including Jerry, had made it abundantly clear that it didn't matter. She wondered what they would all say if they knew the unbridled passion that throbbed beneath her painfully shy exterior. Probably nothing. Then her dark doe eyes lit up as she contemplated the source of that passion.

Brian Slade.

He was so exquisite. Every time she came in contact with him, he treated her as though she were a piece of furniture. There, but completely unremarkable. But as wardrobe mistress, she had free rein to touch him in the most intimate places. After all, his costumes caressed his body like a favored lover.

He was why she was here. He was why she would stay and endure Jerry Devine's clumsy hands on her.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Devine?"

"Please...call me Jerry."

She resisted the desire to flinch when his hand found her shoulder.

*****

"I'm knackered," Brian declared as he tumbled onto his back on Curt's bed.

"Oh, yeah?" Curt swooped down and startled Brian into a wet, open-mouthed kiss. Brian sighed and wound his arms around Curt's neck.

His cock, which had been dancing attendance on Curt's slightest gesture throughout the day, grew hard despite his fatigue. "Mmm...you want to--?"

Curt rolled off Brian to sprawl across the other side of the bed. "We're not done yet, Bri."

"We could be. If I say so," Brian prompted, as he crept over to walk his hand up Curt's chest.

"This media circus thing is a big fucking deal, Brian."

Brian blinked in consternation. "So? Since when do you care?"

"Ssh, babe," Curt soothed, pulling Brian against him. "I'm just saying...there could be a surprise or two."

Brian's heart thumped. "You're up to something, Curt?"

"Always." They kissed, Curt's mouth sucking on Brian's bottom lip until he thought he would explode if he didn't have him. But good things come to those who wait. Curt held the living proof in his arms.

A peremptory knock on the unlocked door brought them both back to the real world with a thud. "You're not dressed, darlings," Mandy called.

There was something about the sight of her husband lying there, his legs restlessly entwined with Curt's, that was erotic. She wondered at her own lack of jealousy, but then, she asked herself, hadn't she lost Brian a long time ago? And not to Curt.

Their new alliance was too fragile to bear much pressure. But Mandy was willing to try. What else did she have? In a very real sense, she was the most ardent of Brian's hangers-on. At least, she and Curt had that in common.

"Jerry sent me to find you."

Brian frowned. "He shouldn't have. Maybe we didn't want to be found."

"Don't shoot the messenger, Brian. I'm merely relaying a message."

"Which is?"

Mandy rolled her artfully made up eyes expressively. "He expects both of you to make an appearance. After all, Brian, you are the star."

"Am I?" Brian asked huskily.

"Of course. Now get a move on, darling. Shannon is waiting."

When Mandy left, albeit reluctantly, since she clearly wanted to know what they were really thinking, Brian abruptly swung his legs out of bed and sat on the edge. "Y'know, Curt, sometimes I think..."

"What, babe?" Curt asked, running his hand up Brian's back. He could feel the tension returning to his lover's body. It didn't seem to matter that Brian was exhausted. Anger and frustration were powerful motivators.

Brian turned to look intently into Curt's kohl-smudged gray eyes. "For two cents, I'd give this all up and run away with you."

"Where would we go, babe?" Curt continued to stroke Brian's back lovingly, the roughened pads of his fingertips oddly sensual on Brian's tired flesh.

"Somewhere. *Anywhere*. Maybe it doesn't matter. As long as I'm with *you*."

Curt reached up and pulled Brian's head down for a kiss. His thumb caressed Brian's cheek as he kissed him thoroughly, his mouth almost ruthlessly seeking and exploring the sweetness Brian kept hidden from everyone else.

"I love you."

Those words hung in the air long after Brian slowly rose to his feet, taking Curt with him.

It was showtime.

*****

It was a carefully arranged tableau cunningly cast in various shades of silver and gold. The Venus in Furs were strategically placed on the couches that dominated the huge room. Jerry stood in its center, Shannon at his side and looking lost as usual.

"Every great century that produces Art is so far an artificial century. The work that seems the most natural and simple of its time is always the result of the most self-conscious effort."

It was Jerry's shining moment. In a few words, he had made his mission statement. The fact that it wasn't necessarily Brian's agenda didn't bother him in the slightest. He beckoned to the photographer who captured the moment forever.

To Jerry's left, Trevor laughed, his shaggy blond head bouncing up and down with good nature. Trevor rarely spoke, but that wasn't his job. He was content to play the music behind Brian's lyrics. His ambitions reached no further than shagging the brunette who sat next to him on the couch.

Mandy was next, having plopped herself like a ripe tomato in between Trevor and Brian. She looked every inch as glorious as she could have dreamed. A true Hollywood wannabe. It was a pity the effect was wasted on her husband.

Brian lay back, his head lolling appreciatively as a tall dark-haired beauty stroked his hair. He wished it was Curt, but then, he had Curt right where he wanted him. At his feet.

Curt lay on his side on the floor, decked out in opulent gold lame, his head propped up on his hand as he stared directly into the cameras. From time to time, an enigmatic smile crossed his lips, but he never looked back at Brian. Instead, he reached behind him to rub the knee of the beautiful girl sitting in the chair.

"Would you like to join me later, Curt?" she murmured softly.

Curt chuckled, taking the sting out of his next words. "No, thanks. I got a date with my main man, honey."

Brian caught the end of what Curt said and a strangely peaceful expression settled over his appealing features. Mandy turned and saw the way his beauty was transformed...and she sighed. No, he was no longer hers. Maybe he never was.

Perhaps that was why, when it was her turn to enter the spotlight and enjoy her fifteen minutes of fame, whatever underlying regret she might have had suddenly surfaced, lending an unexpectedly acid tone to her little prepared speech.

"What's true about music is true about life. Beauty reveals everything...because it expresses nothing."

End