This is the eleventh story in the Rewriting History series, and it follows Come and Court Me. This was really quite a bit harder than I thought it would be to write. I hope that this does justice to what is probably my favorite scene in the movie. :)

Warnings: m/m, AU, spoilers for the movie, including actual dialogue. (You'll know it when you see it. :) )

~Silk

*****

Essential Dreaming

By Silk

"The Aesthete gives characteristically cynical evidence, replete with pointed epigram and startling paradox, while explaining his views on morality in art."

Brian stared into the faces of the press, rabid hounds that they were, mesmerized by the ease with which they bought Jerry's premise. The secret to being a star *was* knowing how to behave like one. Hey, kids, let's put on a show. And what a show Jerry had planned.

His dark gold ringmaster costume sparkled and glittered under the artful lighting. In every sense of the word, this was a media circus, and Brian was at its center. For a second, he felt claustrophobic, as if there wasn't enough air to breathe, but he forced himself under control, taking heart that Curt was in the audience. His Curt.

"Brian! Brian! Brian! Maxwell Demon is the story of a space creature who becomes a rock 'n' roll messiah, only to be destroyed by his own success. Are you saying this is *your* destiny? Are *you* Maxwell Demon?"

"Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask and he'll tell you the truth."

"Brian! Is it your belief that all dandies are homosexual?"

"Ha! Nothing makes one so vain as being told one is a sinner."

The questions were, of course, rigged. As were the answers. Jerry was nothing if not thorough. He painted Brian as some sort of latter-day Oscar Wilde, but Brian wasn't sure that the analogy held. Part of him felt frozen in place, his reactions to all of this simmering beneath the surface. He chewed on his lower lip, the only visible sign of agitation that he'd shown so far. None of it felt *real*. *He* didn't feel real.

He felt submerged. Drowning in the sea of carefully orchestrated adulation that was undoubtedly Jerry's finest work. Until *he* came. Curt. His very own disruptive influence who didn't know that he wasn't supposed to interrupt the proceedings.

"Hey, guys, watch out. Excuse me. Careful now. There you go."

He watched dispassionately as Curt made his way through the crowd. He felt Jerry's censure and Mandy's disapproval like it was a physical entity, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Curt was coming.

And God help him, but his heart still wanted to sing whenever Curt appeared.

"Coming through, coming through," Curt said in his distinctive low growl. People parted, the initially puzzled looks on their faces soon replaced by knowing ones. Oh, it's Curt Wild, those looks said. You know what they say about *him*. And *Brian*, they added.

"Tell us, Brian. Are the rumors true when they say you and Curt Wild have some sort of plans up your sleeves?"

Brian hid his own lack of awareness behind a pert expression. "Oh, yes," he said too brightly, earning him a scowl from Mandy's direction and an enigmatic glare from Jerry. "Quite soon, we actually plan to take over the world."

He had no idea what Curt was doing. But he could forgive him anything if he merely glanced at him with those kohl-lined eyes. Curt stepped up onto the platform, the twin glasses of champagne sloshing back and forth on the tray he held up. As Brian took one of the glasses, Curt raised his glass with one hand and threw the tray down with the other.

"Excuse me, fellas, while I raise a glass to the loveliest man in Europe."

Brian tossed his hat onto the ground and called out playfully, "And they say it's not natural."

Everyone laughed, the laughter growing and growing until it was a cacophony of sound that was both too loud and too obtrusive to be anything but surreal. Glasses in hand, they circled one another like predator and prey, until they abruptly stopped to brace their wrists against each other and drank from each other's glasses, flinging them away after just one sip. The raucous laughter faded away...and soon there was nothing but silence as the young couple gazed intently into one another's eyes.

A silence that Curt broke with heartfelt words that pierced the veil of Brian's seeming indifference.

"The world is changed cause you are made of ivory and gold. The curves of your lips rewrite history..."

Curt's whisper trailed off meaningfully as he willed Brian to remember the first time he had spoken these words to him.

Brian's lips parted as though he would speak, but he found that he couldn't. There was nothing he could say that would do Curt's instinctive poetry justice. Then suddenly Curt's mouth was on his, his tongue nudging Brian's lips apart.

The world went away when Curt kissed him. And yet, Brian had never felt more *real*.

He kissed him back, his inner anxiety momentarily held at bay by Curt's reassuring caress. Nothing this good could last. Surely they would burn themselves out like the bright stars they aspired to be, only to blink out into oblivion when they were done. He wanted too much, and he knew it.

Curt tugged on his bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, and Brian gasped, the unexpected intrusion taking him by surprise. His fingers slid into Curt's hair and he anchored himself there, his tongue restlessly seeking its mate.

It went on and on...and still it never betrayed the essence of the dream that Brian held in his heart for him and Curt. With a suddenness that was truly shocking, Brian realized that he had kissed Curt before, but he had never given himself to him with complete abandon like this.

To relinquish control was not in Brian's nature, no matter how unassuming he seemed.

Words of love ached to spill themselves from his lips, and that too was unlike anything he had ever felt before. "Curt..." he thought he whispered, but he couldn't be sure.

The world was watching, Brian thought, but hard upon the heels of that came, Let them watch then.

And they did. Their cameras captured the moment forever, the sounds of a multitude of shutters clicking all at the same time making Curt wince. But it was the light of a hundred flashes going off right in their faces that irrevocably broke the mood.

Curt turned and squinted at the cascade of flashes, scowling in annoyance at the faceless photographers responsible. "Hey, man..."

Brian felt as though he'd been wrenched from the gates of Paradise, only to be hurled at the booted feet of Perdition. The cameras caught his confusion on film. But that wasn't the picture that found its way into the newspapers.

*****

They called it The Kiss.

It was one more fucking symbol to Jerry. His unerring instinct for what titillated the public's interest served him well. Money poured in. Tour dates were scheduled. He could afford to look the other way when Curt entered the room now.

Because of The Kiss.

Now there was no compelling reason to kill Curt Wild. Curt Wild was just that. A wild man with the heart of a poet kneeling at the altar of a demon who wore the face of an angel.

Who cared if Curt was fucking Brian Slade? Only everyone. And they couldn't get enough of them.

*****

"I wrote a song for you."

Curt's fingers drifted down Brian's naked back to flutter briefly at the base of his spine. "Your skin is so perfect," Curt murmured.

"Did you hear what I said? About the song?"

"Yeah, babe. I heard. Pardon me for being distracted by the finest ass I've ever seen," Curt said, brushing his lips against his lover's hip.

"It's called 'Baby's On Fire'."

"Oh, yeah?" Curt rolled onto his back and stretched his arm across his face. "Who's Baby?"

"You are."

Curt chuckled, a low, dark sound that made Brian shiver. They were in Curt's bed. As usual. Brian rarely slept in his own room anymore. He had no idea what Mandy thought of that. In fact, to be perfectly honest, he hadn't looked back since the night he'd come to Curt.

"And *why* am I on fire?"

Brian crept along Curt's body until he found a comfortable place to settle, propping his chin up on both hands to stare at him. "Would you like me to show you?" Brian asked seductively.

"Nahhh...I've got a pretty good idea," Curt teased, loving the way Brian's eyes grew hot when they lit on Curt's face.

"I've got this thing I want to try out...onstage."

"Oh? What kind of thing?"

"The kind of thing you like to do to me," Brian whispered, biting his lip.

"I like to do *lots* of things to you, Bri. You're going to have to be more specific."

"I want to go down on you while you're playing," Brian said quickly, as if he feared Curt's censure.

"Oh, yeah?" Suddenly Curt dumped Brian off him and rolled over, trapping him in a predatory embrace. "So if *I'm* Baby...and *I'm* on fire, why are *you* going down on *me*?"

"Cause it's *my* song," Brian said defiantly. "And are you actually complaining about getting a blowjob?"

Curt shook his head, and it was as if the sparkle and glitter fell away, leaving behind a somber man who knew better than to look a sun god right in the eye. "The sex is good..." Brian raised an eyebrow. "...*great*..." Curt amended. "But I want-"

"What do you want, Curt?" Brian asked in that husky whisper that Curt dreamed about.

"More..."

"More what?"

"More than...sex."

"What about...love?"

"What about it?"

"Do you want it?"

"More than I want to breathe."

"If I give it to you, will you take good care of it?"

"I'll guard it with my life, babe."

"Will you give me yours in return?" Brian asked, suddenly realizing that their entire conversation was taking on the quality of a series of vows.

"You've already got it, Brian," Curt said, the look on his face so unexpectedly tender that Brian sighed.

"I love you, Curt."

"I love you, too."

"Sometimes I think...if all *this* went away..." Brian indicated the lavish surroundings with a wave of his hand. "I could still be happy...if I had *you*."

"You'll always have me, babe."

"That's an easy thing to say, Curt. But not so easy to do." Brian hid his face against Curt's chest, his lips gratefully caressing the smooth expanse.

"Who said being together had to be *easy*?"

Brian affectionately rubbed his cheek against Curt's shoulder. "Well, if seeing the real me first thing in the morning hasn't scared you off, maybe nothing will."

Curt pulled back to kiss him, certain that the man in his arms *was* the be-all and end-all of his heretofore meager existence. "I love you, babe...and you should know that *nothing* scares me."

"Nothing?"

"Well...nothing except the thought of losing you."

"You say such beautiful things to me."

"You deserve them."

"How?"

"You saved me from myself, babe, at a time when precious few people actually gave a shit."

Brian smiled without looking up, and Curt felt rather than saw his eyelashes graze his skin. "Of course I give a shit, Curt. I love you," Brian said quietly.

"Do you? Do you *really*?"

Brian *did* look up then, his light eyes warm and reflective, something Curt had rarely seen if ever. "Sometimes I think...I must have *dreamed* you. How could I *not* love you?"

Curt felt tears sting his eyes as he realized the sincerity of Brian's declaration. "Sometimes all we have are our dreams."

Brian kissed the corner of Curt's eye with aching slowness. "Then we must cherish them all the more for having been brave enough to dream them."

End