This is the thirty-fifth story in the Rewriting History series, and it follows Beauty Reveals Everything.

Warnings: m/m, AU, occasional bad language. No spoilers for the movie.

~Silk

*****

Shiver and Sing

By Silk


"Have you heard from Jack?" Brian asked, spreading strawberry jam on his toast.

They had brought their breakfast outside to the beach. It was a pretty day, and it wasn't excessively hot. So Curt, who seemed possessed of a curiously romantic soul of late, commandeered the kitchen to provide a picnic basket full of goodies.

It wasn't often that Curt *enjoyed* his fame, but this was one of those times. Money bought many things and being able to give Brian treats like this when he felt indulgent was a definite perk.

"As a matter of fact, I did. This morning. There was a rather cryptic message from Harry at the desk." Curt bit into a slice of heavily buttered toast with a blissful expression. There was nothing like English butter. Must be the cows.

Brian frowned. "Really? What do you suppose that was about? I hope Jack's all right."

"Baby, Jack is *always* all right. It's his permanent state of being."

"Well, you know him better than I do."

"Trust me, Jack's like a fucking *cat*. He *always* lands on his feet."

*****

Jack's feet were under the covers. In his bed. In his flat in London.

He yawned sleepily as he slowly woke up. Then it happened. His foot touched something. No, it was *someone*. More specifically, it was someone's foot.

He stopped in mid-yawn and forced his eyes to focus. There was a man in his bed. A strange man. A *lovely* man. But still and all, a strange one.

He poked the strange man's foot. "Hello? Who are you? And what are you doing in my bed?"

Suddenly a head popped up wearing a beatific smile. "You invited me," the young man said quite cheerfully.

"I did?"

All at once Jack became aware that he wasn't wearing any make-up. Quelle outrage! It simply wouldn't do to be seen au naturel. "I never let *anyone* see me without my make-up," Jack commented frostily.

Arthur blinked at the older man. "How do you wash your face then?" he asked with an innocence that couldn't possibly be faked.

Jack pressed an elegantly manicured hand to his face and peered through his fingers at Arthur. "Arthur, right?"

"That's me. Arthur Stewart."

"Of course. How could I forget?" Jack muttered under his breath. He was at a loss to explain to himself how he had become involved with what he could only call Curt Wild's castoff.

"Sooo...can we do it again?"

"Again?" I don't remember doing it the first time. Jack pondered the wisdom of getting out of bed. Being seen without make-up was one thing. Being seen utterly naked was quite another.

"Did we...?"

"Uh huh," Arthur was only too glad to enlighten him.

Jack groaned. Oh, my God. "Was I good?" No, that couldn't possibly have come out of *his* mouth.

"What am I saying? I'm *always* good," Jack said crossly. "Were *you* good?"

Arthur gave him the most blindingly beautiful smile, and Jack knew he was in serious trouble. The tug at his heartstrings felt real. He was being romanced by a rank amateur...and he *liked* it.

"It was my first time."

A virgin! Jack's mind reeled in shock. He'd taken a virgin to bed. Jack's innate compassion compelled him to question Arthur further. He couldn't bear the thought of being responsible for how someone else would feel about sex for the rest of his life. He had delusions of grandeur where his own sexuality was concerned, but he never slept with anyone who couldn't give as good as he got.

"Are you...how do you feel?"

"Great," Arthur beamed.

"Really?"

Arthur nodded slowly. He propped his head on his hand and stared at Jack raptly. "You're beautiful. Even without your make-up on."

Oh, God, he'd forgotten. No make-up. Jack tried to hide his face, but Arthur reached out and pulled his hands away. "You really are."

"Arthur, you're a nice boy, but-"

"Is this the part where you let the kid down easy? Tell me I'm just one more fucking one night's stand? Well, it wasn't like that."

Jack almost jumped at the underlying violence in Arthur's voice. He sounded surprisingly intense for one so young. "Why don't you tell me how it was?" Jack asked softly.

Arthur rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling. "We met after the concert. I went up on the roof with Curt Wild."

"I remember."

"He sent me away-"

"I'm sorry-"

Arthur snapped his head around to face Jack, his dark eyes flashing. "Don't say that!" After his initial outburst, Arthur seemed to grow calm again. "Curt told me about how it was with him and Brian."

"He did?" That surprised Jack. He thought he knew Curt well now, but he had to admit, he hadn't given him enough credit.

"Yeah." Arthur sighed. "As bad as he was hurting, he wouldn't take me in Brian's place. He said he couldn't. Cause it felt like betrayal."

Jack abruptly realized that he no longer felt uncomfortable lying here next to Arthur. Sans make-up. Sans clothing. There was something about him that was so genuine, it made his heart ache to think of letting him go.

"That sounds like Curt. He can be incredibly noble on occasion."

"Then I went downstairs and saw you."

"You ran into Brian first," Jack gently reminded.

"Yeah, but-come on, he's Brian fucking Slade. No way he was going to look at *me*."

"But he did, my dear. He was quite jealous of you, you know."

"He *was*? Brian Slade was jealous of *me*?"

Jack nodded. "He thought that you and Curt..."

"Oh!" To Jack's complete delight, Arthur colored furiously. "Brian Slade was my idol. I worshipped him and the ground he walked on."

"Yet you went with Curt," Jack prompted.

"I wanted him," Arthur mused out loud. "But now I think...maybe it was just a way of being close to Brian. I mean, Curt Wild, Brian's ex-lover. What a rush, man."

Jack reached out and cupped Arthur's chin. "No. You saw the pain in him and you wanted to make him feel better, even if it could only be for a little while."

Arthur gazed at Jack in awe. "How could you know that?"

"It's what I see in you. In your heart."

Jack's words were tender, but the kiss that followed was even more so. A delicate plucking of Arthur's lips that led to another sigh, this one of huge proportions.

"I love you."

"I know." Jack raked his fingernails along the side of Arthur's face. "I'm too old...or too jaded to believe in love at first sight. But I think..."

Arthur unconsciously held his breath.

"...that to deny what's right in front of me would be very foolish indeed."

Arthur pulled Jack's hand to his mouth and kissed it. "Did I do that right? You taught me so many things last night, I can't remember half of them."

"Ah, but the half you do remember is *perfect*," Jack whispered.

*****

Curt had butter on his bottom lip. It was driving Brian crazy to sit on the opposite side of the blanket from him. So he moved. Right into Curt's lap.

"Hey!" Curt exclaimed, nearly dropping his slice of toast.

Brian wrapped his arms around Curt's neck and kissed him fervently, smearing the butter on his mouth before licking it off with equal abandon. Passion flared briefly between them, but passion could never take the place of the tenderness that they shared now.

When Brian released him, Curt chomped enthusiastically on his toast. "You know what's nice about no longer being an also-ran in the music biz?"

Brian murmured, "You were never that."

"Yeah, I was. When I was too doped up to know what I was pissing away. But what I mean is...I love being able to give you all this...stuff."

Brian shook his head, an easy smile coming to his lips. "Curt, I *had* all this stuff...and it didn't make me *happy*."

Curt grinned. "Yeah, but you didn't have *me*."

Brian curled up in his arms and sighed happily. This was where he belonged. Where he had *always* belonged.

End