This is the forty-first story in the Rewriting History Series, and it follows Madeira's Farewell Drink.

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

~Silk

*****

Loving the Alien

By Silk


"Wake up, Arthur. It's time to go home," Jack whispered to his lover, quite enjoying the peaceful expression he felt responsible for putting on his face.

"Home," Arthur sighed sleepily, instinctively reaching out for Jack.

"Yes, lamb. Home." Jack smoothed the younger man's hair back from his forehead. Arthur stirred, then came awake slowly, focusing his dark brown eyes on the first thing he saw. Jack.

"Jack."

"Yes?"

"Just Jack."

"You *are* tired," Jack said with a smile he reserved only for the lovely boy cradled in his arms.

It took a few minutes to extricate themselves from the taxi, but when they were finally standing on the sidewalk in front of Jack's flat, Jack leaned on the passenger side window, indicating that Curt should roll it down. After Curt obliged, Jack said, "I want to bring Arthur on tour with us. That's not going to be a problem, is it?"

Curt smiled, and Jack could tell this was a *real* smile, not one of those fake ones meant to appease the public or friends who might heartily disagree with you otherwise. "The kid's good for you, Jack. I don't have a problem with that."

"Besides," Brian added, peering over his lover's shoulder at Jack, "he'll have to answer to *me* if he does."

"You're pretty brave since I fed you," Curt said, giving Brian a long, considering look.

Brian pouted, knowing full well the effect that had on Curt and his libido. "You didn't let me have dessert."

Curt's eyes widened even as blood pooled in his groin. He waved weakly in Jack's direction. "Yeah, um, good night, Jack."

Brian eyed him with fat intent, his blue eyes gleaming avariciously. "You didn't say good night to Arthur. That wasn't nice."

"Screw Arthur."

"I heard that," Arthur piped up. "I'm telling Jack."

Jack wrapped his arms around his young companion's neck and kissed him, earning a giggle for his trouble. "*Jack* is right here."

"Stop that," Arthur chuckled, brushing his fingers ineffectually against Jack's cheek. "We're in public."

"Why, so we are." And with that, Jack kissed him again, even more thoroughly than before.

Jack gestured at Curt without breaking away from his ardent young lover, and Curt laughed as he rolled up the window.

"Now where were we?"

"Des-sert," Brian drawled slowly, his long, elegant fingers creeping up the inside of Curt's thigh.

"Are you coming home with me?" Curt asked breathlessly. "I know we didn't talk about where we were going to stay here in town, but I was thinking-"

"Again?" Brian laughed softly, that sputtery laugh that was the aural equivalent of slicking his body with oil and smearing it with glitter.

Curt pulled Brian into his lap and slid his hands down his back until they encountered buttery-soft black leather. "You *are* coming home with me...aren't you?"

When Brian didn't answer right away, Curt buried his face in his lover's hair and tongued his earlobe. "Bri-annn..." he whispered, so softly that no one but them could hear it.

Brian smiled, that mischievous smile that tugged at Curt's heart and wouldn't let go. "Of course. Isn't *that* dessert?"

"Brat. You like teasing me."

Brian snuggled under Curt's chin with a satisfied sound. "Mmm...I want to wake up wherever you are."

They had come such a long, long way. Curt couldn't help but think about that every single time he held Brian in his arms. "I love you," he whispered, his breath wafting hot and sweet over Brian's upturned face.

"I love you, too," Brian murmured as he began to fall asleep.

*****

"I know it's not much-" Curt started to say when he was abruptly interrupted.

"I don't think I've ever been here before. Did Jack help you pick out the furniture?" Brian asked wistfully, running a hand along the edge of the loveseat.

"Bri-"

Brian blinked back tears and softly cleared his throat. "It's okay. I understand. I missed doing that with you. But it was my own bloody fault."

"Brian," Curt said firmly. "I was in no shape to pick out *anything*. Not even this flat. If Jack did everything, it's only because *I* couldn't."

"That was my fault, too," Brian choked out.

Curt gathered him into his arms and held onto him as tightly as he could. "Oh, babe, if I'd known you were going to get upset over this, I would've booked us a hotel room."

"We can't live the rest of our lives in hotel rooms, Curt," Brian whispered against his neck.

Curt sighed and kissed the top of his head. "Do you want me to find us a new place?"

Brian shook his head without looking up. "No."

"Then...can I interest you in taking a look at the bedroom? You're out on your feet, baby," Curt murmured affectionately.

"I'm sure it's fine," Brian said sulkily, refusing to meet his eyes.

"You're not too sure of *anything* right now, Bri. But *I* am. Come and look."

Brian finally made eye contact with his lover, and Curt rewarded him with a gentle smile. He took Brian by the hand and slowly led him into the bedroom. Flicking the light switch, Curt said softly, "No one's ever been in here but me, babe. I swear."

"Don't swear," Brian responded automatically. It wasn't until a moment later that what Curt had said registered. "You never brought anyone else here?"

Curt stroked Brian's hair away from his face. "Nope."

"Not even Jack?"

Curt shook his head.

Brian sniffled and continued to stare at the bed for at least a full minute longer. "Is it comfortable?"

"It's a bed, Brian."

Brian let go of Curt's hand and sank down on the comforter that covered the bed. "It feels good."

"It'd feel even better if you took your clothes off and got under the covers, babe."

"I'm tired."

"I know."

"But I want to shower first."

"Okay. Bathroom's through there."

"I can find it."

*****

Curt was almost asleep when Brian returned. He padded barefoot across the light grey carpet and slipped into bed beside Curt. He was naked, his body warm, his hair still wet from the shower.

Curt opened his eyes to study his lover. With his face freshly scrubbed free of all make-up, Brian looked like a sweet young boy with the countenance of an angel. "Feel better?"

"Mm-hm," Brian said.

"You're getting your pillow all wet."

"I don't care." Brian cuddled closer, his hands kneading the tense muscles in Curt's shoulders.

"You know..." Curt began, rolling onto his back. "...some nights I'd just lie here...and pretend you were here with me."

"I'm sorry I wasn't."

"Me, too." Curt ached for one of Brian's kisses, but he wanted to let Brian make the first move. "But you're here now. You don't know how glad I am for that."

"Yes, I do. I feel the same way."

"Today was a success. *You* were a success. How does that feel?"

"Funny." The word slipped out before Brian could stop it. But it was true. It wasn't that he wasn't accustomed to feeling good about himself, although that was certainly part of it, but whatever success he'd experienced belonged to *Tommy*. Not *Brian*.

In a way, Brian felt as though he'd lost a part of himself. But that didn't make sense. Tommy *was* Brian. How could he explain that he felt inexplicably jealous of himself?

Tommy moved through the world with an ease and a spontaneity that Brian envied. He said and did what he wanted to, and there were no uncomfortable repercussions. People *liked* him. Including Curt.

What if Curt forgot about *Brian*? What if Curt preferred *Tommy*? Brian tormented himself with ruminations that he couldn't control.

Then, as if the emotional bond that connected the two of them lent Curt some special insight into Brian's preoccupation, Curt said, "I love *you*. *Whatever* you call yourself. I told you before, you'll always be *Brian* to me, baby. And in case you didn't notice..."

Curt stopped waiting for Brian to kiss him. It was obvious that Brian needed reassurance tonight. That was Curt's job.

"I've been calling you *Brian* ever since we got home."

"We're home..." Brian repeated.

Curt nodded. "In our bed."

"*Ours*?"

"Yeah, I thought you'd like that part. So...you still up for dessert, baby?"

Without waiting for an answer, he kissed Brian's eyelids shut, one by one, then he moved to place a tiny kiss on the tip of Brian's nose. Finally he kissed his mouth, groaning as Brian opened for him.

"Bri-annn..." Curt breathed his name like it was air.

Brian broke into a smile at last. "Can I move my stuff in tomorrow?"

"Sure."

Suddenly Brian looked shy. "Could you come with me? I don't want to go back to the townhouse at Bijou by myself."

"You don't have to go back there at all, Bri. I'll buy you what you need."

"Thanks, but..." Brian bit his lip anxiously. "I think there's something I have to do there."

"Are you talking about that son-of-a-bitch Jerry and that fucking bitch Shannon?" Curt gritted his teeth and barely managed to keep his roiling emotions under control.

"Yeah."

"What are you going to do?" For two cents, Curt would rip Jerry's head off and piss down his neck.

Brian's response was far more civilized. "I want to fire both of them."

"So send them a fucking telegram. Brian, for God's sake-"

"I can handle it," Brian said.

"Not alone. Not fucking *alone*. Babe, don't you get it? I am stuck on you. Like fucking glue."

Against his will, Brian smiled again, this time with a radiant sweetness that made Curt want to bundle him up and hide him away from the rest of the fucking world. "You're losing what's left of your vocabulary, Curt."

Curt sighed. "Do you have to do this before we go on tour, Brian? What if they retaliate? Or worse?"

"What could be worse than those two leeches getting away with what they did to us, Curt?" Brian asked quietly.

"You'd have to give up being *Tommy*," Curt said somberly.

"Shit," Brian swore, punching his pillow for good measure.

"Of course there *is* something else you could do."

"What?" Brian asked in an exasperated tone.

"You could send me and Jack."

"You'd kill them."

Curt snorted derisively. "Not if Jack's there."

"What if something happens to you?"

"I repeat. Not if Jack's there."

"Hmm...."

Curt brushed his fingertips across Brian's mouth. "What are you thinking about so hard now?"

"If I'd known that firing Jerry and Shannon would be such a turn-on, I would have done it sooner."

"Does that mean I can kiss you again?"

"I hope you're planning on doing a whole lot more than kissing."

"I dunno, babe. I'm..." Curt interrupted himself with an expansive yawn. "...getting awfully tired."

Brian climbed on top of Curt, pressing his naked flesh against his lover's with an anticipatory groan. "I can make it worth your while to...stay up."

"I bet you can..." Curt drawled, spreading his legs so that Brian's cock aligned almost perfectly with his.

"Mmm..." Brian wrapped a hand around both of them and stroked slowly, maddeningly slowly, which, as could have been predicted, drove Curt crazy.

"Brian, I swear to God, if you don't move your pretty little ass-"

Brian tantalized him further by grinding his hips into Curt's groin. Then just when Curt was ready to toss Brian onto his back and abandon all semblance of restraint, Brian licked Curt right on the chin and proceeded to slide his tongue into his mouth.

Curt panted, "Baby..." when he was finally able to gasp for breath.

That was when Brian started to thrust against him, his hips pumping furiously now to bring them both to climax in record time.

"Oh, my God," Curt cried.

Brian snuggled peacefully against Curt's sweat-slick body and closed his eyes. "*Now* we're stuck together like glue."

End