This is the thirty-seventh story in the Rewriting History series, and it follows Swagger or Sway.

This was supposed to be hot, hot, hot, but you know those boys, they started hot, got heavily into the angst, then miraculously at the end, things got interesting again, but in an entirely different way. (I should give up trying to explain myself. :lol ) And yes, I know I'm a tease. But the story itself is just below. So there. ;)

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

~Silk

*****

Style Always Wins

By Silk


Swaggering was hard work. Brian finally got the strut down cold, but every time he did it, he'd fall helplessly into Curt's arms, full of soft laughter and even softer kisses.

"You're enjoying this, you little monster," Curt growled when Brian pressed his leather-clad body up against him for the sixth time.

"Damn straight I am."

Curt pricked up his ears at the Irish-inflected voice that came out as smooth as Irish whiskey. "Brian?"

Brian wound his arms around Curt's neck and leaned his entire weight on him. "You mean *Tommy*," he corrected, his voice going down as sweet as Irish cream.

"*Whoever* you are, you'd better kiss me again," Curt said hoarsely.

The lightness of Brian's eyes contrasted nicely with the darkness of his hair now. His hair, which had always shown a slight tendency to wave, curled around his ears before brushing the top of his shoulders. Both of them had gained weight over the past month, the pounds filling in the shadowy crevices that were the only physical mark of the time they'd spent apart.

Brian moved gracefully within Curt's embrace, his hips undulating in a sensual rhythm unique to him. "Want to dance?" he asked.

"That depends. Define dancing."

"That's for me to know and you to find out," Brian teased, his brogue becoming stronger as his confidence grew.

"I like you this way."

"What way would that be?" Brian asked, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. Curt had not seen him this playful in months. It was like trying to catch a sunbeam dancing on the grass. Bright and seemingly insubstantial...but oh, so very powerful.

"Happy..." Curt ducked his head and kissed him before he could run away. "You're happy, babe. Aren't you?"

Brian relaxed along the length of Curt's lithe yet muscular frame, clearly enjoying the feel of his lover's hands sliding slowly over his hips. "Mmm...I think so," he answered with a sultry smile. "Are you the one who did this to me?"

"I think so," Curt echoed.

They stared at each other in rapt silence for several moments. Then Curt said, "Lesson's over, babe. You're officially *perfect*."

Brian rolled his eyes, flashing Curt that hot look that made him want to bury himself deep inside Brian. "No one's perfect, Curt."

"You are," Curt said, no longer teasing. His expression grew somber as he contemplated the young man in his arms. "But I can't take the credit for that, Bri. You did it all by yourself."

Brian shook his head. "I had help, baby. I wouldn't be here right now if it wasn't for you."

"Maybe..." Curt nudged his lips apart and kissed him thoroughly. But as he drew back, he caught Brian's bottom lip and tugged on it gently once or twice, apparently reluctant to relinquish that contact. "But I like to think you would have come back to me on your own...someday." He kissed Brian again, this time more chastely, almost reverently. "I *need* to think that, Bri."

"I wish I was good with words."

"You are, baby. You write beautiful songs."

Brian's eyes darkened as his face grew bleak. "But I can't tell you how I *really* feel." Brian twined his fingers in the long blond strands that fell over Curt's shoulder. "And I want to...so badly," he added in a whisper.

Curt pushed Brian's hair out of the way and trailed a series of tiny kisses along the side of his neck. "You do," he breathed, resting his forehead against Brian's so that he could look deep into those beautiful blue eyes. "Every time we make love...you tell me more and more..."

"I don't know what you see in me, Curt...that you can love me this much," Brian whispered.

Curt's soft gray eyes shone. "I see *you*. I always have."

"You're not going to make me cry. I'm too happy," Brian said with a sniffle.

"I'm glad, babe," Curt responded, burying his face in Brian's hair. He wasn't crying either. No fucking way.

*****

The remainder of the week passed quickly. Too quickly. It was time to leave the hotel and the beach and the unreality of their romantic idyll behind. Neither one of them was ever going to be ready for that.

So they retreated to their own private places deep inside, and they pretended that it was just another day. "Hey, thanks for packing."

"No problem," Brian said, searching for the car keys. "Do you want me to pay the hotel bill?"

"Already taken care of, babe."

"Well, this is it, then."

"Yep. Time to hit the proverbial road."

"This was...um...nice." Brian donned his sunglasses, his eyes so camouflaged by the dark lenses that no one could see them. Not even Curt. *Especially* Curt.

"Yeah. Nice." What a mild word to describe what had turned out to be a month-long honeymoon in every sense of the word.

"I'll drive."

"Okay."

There was absolutely no reason to feel sad about leaving Brighton. It was a holiday, a series of moments out of time. It had brought them closer together than Curt had ever thought possible. But that didn't mean that going back to London was a bad thing.

They had to learn how to deal with the real world. But once the tour was over...Curt had plans to bring Brian back here. It was where everything began. And then, when things looked completely hopeless, it was where everything started over.

*****

"You sure you want to do it this way?"

"Yes. It's the only way I can be sure," Brian answered.

He took off his sunglasses, disclosing that he had carefully lined his eyes with kohl. While his hair wasn't yet as long as he wished, it was the longest it had been in four years. The color was a curiously warm shade of dark brown, glinting with latent red and gold highlights that Brian wasn't even aware were there.

He wore a plain white cotton T-shirt, certainly the least glamorous thing he had ever owned, over tight black leather pants which clung to his thighs and hugged his crotch, just the way Curt said they would. Although his other clothes had been equally revealing, albeit in their own way, Brian still felt remarkably exposed.

But he took a deep breath as his new leather boots struck the floor with a thump. "Harry said they're all in there."

"Yeah. The record company's real high on the Berlin record. I think they called Jack in, too."

Brian grabbed Curt's hand and pulled it to his face, sliding the cool fingers against his hot skin. "For luck."

"You won't need it, babe."

*****

Brian strode into the conference room where the executives from Curt's record company were meeting, confidently taking his rightful place at Curt's side. Their eyes glided cursorily over Brian's lean form. "Who's this, Curt?" Harry inquired, just the way they'd planned.

Harry had to admit, if they hadn't let him in on what was going down, he never would have guessed that the man sitting next to Curt was Brian Slade. He had a feeling he was going to enjoy the next few minutes.

"This is Tommy Stone. He's a...good friend."

One of the more officious types at the table said, "You know we don't allow strangers into our meetings, Curt."

"Tommy's not a stranger, man. He's...*special*."

"Oh," the man replied, belatedly realizing that Curt was introducing them to his new lover.

"Talk to the man, Tommy," Curt said in his distinctively low growl.

Brian smiled and tossed his hair, giving the man in question a decidedly flirtatious look. "I'm...traveling...with Curt."

"You're going on tour then?"

"Aye."

"Hmm...your accent. You're not from around here, are you?"

"Oh, I'm not English. I'm Irish. That's quite another thing."

"Do you sing?"

"Sometimes. I've been known to write an occasional song, too."

"Will you be joining Curt onstage?"

"If he asks me nicely," Brian quipped, darting a brazen look at his lover.

That was something they had never talked about. They were so preoccupied with making sure that Brian would be unrecognizable as *Brian*, they hadn't dared to think that he might be allowed to play with Curt.

All eyes turned to Curt. Curt flushed, then grinned rapaciously. Slinging an arm around Brian's waist, he said, "I'd *love* to play with you. Anytime, anywhere, *babe*."

Suddenly there was a brief commotion at the door. It was Jack. As always, he had to make an entrance. Poised and fashionable, Jack Fairy glided into the conference room as though his feet weren't meant to touch the ground.

But that wasn't what got Curt's attention. Jack wasn't *alone*. Curt wasn't the only one sporting a brand-new significant other. Jack was with someone.

Someone Curt recognized.

Arthur Stewart. The kid from the theater. At DOG.

Now how the hell did that happen? Curt wondered, his hand tightening around Brian's waist.

Brian leaned over and whispered, "You're staring."

Curt nodded. "Hey, Jack. How are you?"

"Never been better. And you?"

"The same. Um...who's the kid?"

"I might ask you the same thing."

Brian almost fell out of his chair. Jack didn't *recognize* him? Curt dropped his arm from around Brian's waist and leaned forward, bracing both elbows on the table in front of him. "This is Tommy."

Jack's dark eyes didn't so much as flicker. "How quickly they forget," he said, obviously meaning that Curt had moved on. Away from Brian.

"I don't think you understand, man."

"No, I don't think *you* do." Now Jack sounded almost...angry. That could mean only one thing. They had done such a good job of convincing everyone that Brian was Tommy that Jack believed it, too.

"We need to talk, man. *Privately*."

"Could we please get back to discussing the tour, gentlemen? Your love lives surely can wait," Harry said, hoping to head off certain disaster.

Jack settled into a seat across the table from Curt and looked daggers at him.

Curt rubbed a hand over his chin. It was going to be a *long* afternoon.

*****

By the time the meeting was over, everyone was tired and edgy. The tension between Jack and Curt was palpable to them all, and there wasn't a thing that Curt could do until he could get Jack outside.

"Curt," Brian whispered as the meeting finally broke up.

"I don't want to come between you and Jack. Your friendship with him is too important."

"It'll be okay, babe. Once he knows."

"Once I know *what*?" Jack demanded.

There was nothing like being at a loss for words when a six-foot tall drag queen was hovering angrily over you.

End