Chapter Text
“Noel?”
You don't answer right away, but that whisper could get louder, you've been through this before.
It's such a quiet night; the voices in the street have finally died down and the starlight shines dimly into your shared bedroom. You feel a refreshing coolness – the window is open and a light breeze stirs the curtains.
“What?”
“Are you in love with me?”
“Shush, and don’t talk nonsense,” you say too hastily, before he's even finished his sentence.
“‘Cause, like, I think I'm in love with you.”
You don't say anything for a while.
“You're just drunk.”
“But you kissed me. And ...”
It's a good thing it's dark, so Liam can't see your cheeks burning, flushing with redness. You've always cursed the way your skin does that.
“That was a mistake.”
Liam had been lying on his back, gazing at the ceiling, but now he turned on his side, and Noel could see out of the corner of his eye that he was staring at him.
“I liked it. I wanna -”
“Shut up. Be quiet.”
“- wanna do more.”
Your heart is pounding so frantically that he must be able to hear the sound.
“And I realised ...”
“What?” You're listening with bated breath.
“That I like you.”
“Stop it, L-.”
“More than anyone else.”
You clench your fists so tight your knuckles nearly crack.
“I want you.”
You're too short of breath to answer that.
“Do you think about me, when you're with girls?”
That gets you to turn your head.
“Liam! What the fuck d’you think you’re on about?”
“I do, I think about you.”
You wish he were smiling. That this whole thing was nothing more than a taunt. But he's not.
“So, then, uh. What ... ”
Your voice trails off.
Liam props himself up on his elbow.
“What do you think about?”
“I dunno. A lot.”
“A ‘lot’?”
He shifts backwards, back against the wall.
“I can tell you, if you come over an’ lie down over here.”
“No,” you say.
He sighs in disappointment.
“But why?”
“It's not right.”
“But you wanna,” says Liam, raising his voice a bit now, and you shush him.
“But you wanna,” he insists a little more quietly - as though you just hadn’t heard him the first time.
“Doesn’t matter. It ain’t important.”
“It is fucking important.”
“How d’you reckon that?”
“If you don't do it with me, I'll do it with someone else. Another lad.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You know what I'm talking about …”
There's silence for a while. He must’ve found that confession hard to make.
“What's the point, then?
“Hm?”
“What'd be the point of getting another lad to shag you?”
“'Cause I'd pretend it were you.”
“Jesus, Liam ...”
It's just excruciating. Torture.
“But I haven't done it yet.”
“What about all your birds?”
“Haven’t done it with a lad,” Liam clarifies, red-faced.
“Have you given any thought to how we're would - how we could ever live with that, Liam. Really thought-?”
His movement is so swift that you don't have time to push him away or move as far back from him as you can on this narrow bed. He's on your bed in a flash.
“What's the big deal?”
“‘What's the big deal?’” you ask, raising your eyebrows in consternation.
“Yeah. What's the big deal?”
“We're fucking brothers, that's the big deal,” you hiss.
“So? What's the big deal in that?”
“You must be out of your mind.”
“Noely ...” The bottom lip is jutting out.
“No!” you reply. “I'm not doing it.”
“But, c’mon, please, please, please ...”
There's a rustling sound outside, but you don't immediately recognise where it's coming from.
“Shhhhh! Shut up.”
“Please,” he adds more quietly. “Just one kiss.”
He reaches for you, but you turn your head away and his lips hit your cheek, an innocent gesture Liam’s made a dozen times before.
It doesn't stop him – he wraps his fingers around your jaw and pulls your face back towards him.
His tongue passes over your lips, and then, you find yourself opening your mouth slightly. Liam moans softly in relief and you grab his hand, squeezing it hard to keep him quiet.
How long have you dreamt about those lips. About him ending up in your bed. About how he'll offer himself up to you. About how you'll make him yours.
Your tongues touch wetly and you open your eyes to see his closed lashes.
“Noel.”
“Uh-huh?”
His hand slides down your stomach, tugging up the old, over-laundered t-shirt you usually sleep in on warm summer nights.
You catch his wrist.
“Stop it.”
“I can make you feel good. I know I can.”
His fingers reach for the elastic of your boxer shorts and trace over it.
“And you can make me yours,” he says, as if reading your mind – because that really is all you want. You want it so badly.
“How do you figure that?”
He opens his mouth, letting out a quiet sigh as his trembling hips touch yours. You keep your gaze on his face.
“For real, Noel, I can, I-”
“No, Liam.”
His quiet moan of frustration pierces your heart.
“They’ll hear us,” you whisper.
“I'll be quiet.”
“The fuck you will.”
“Why’s that?”
You hesitate, but then you decide to spit it out.
“’Cause it hurts.”
Liam narrows his eyes.
“An’ … how would you know a thing like that?”
Shit.
“I ...”
“What - what’re you sayin’?! Have you done it with someone else?”
“Liam, I’m fucking twenty-three.”
“But you’re not gay.”
“Well, neither are you, but here you are.”
“That’s different.”
“Is it fuck ‘different’.”
“It’s different, innit, ‘cause you’re me brother.”
You shake your head wearily.
“How the fuck does that change things?”
“I love you. I don't need other lads.”
You laugh quietly, you can’t help it.
“Five minutes ago you were threatening me with other lads.”
He's lost for a second.
“I wasn’t being serious. It was just, uhm ...”
“Manipulation?”
“Right.”
Silence. You’re thinking.
“... Alright, then,” you say quietly; pretending to relent, as if you hadn’t been doomed to give that answer as soon as this conversation started. Long before, even.
Liam’s eyes grow wide.
“You - mean it?”
“I suppose I wouldn't want you to do it with anyone else.”
“So you want to do it with me?”
“Yes, Liam.”
He gently pushes your bangs from your forehead before leaning in and kissing you again. It's a soft, tender kiss, like Liam himself. Like the Liam that no one sees but you.
He takes this moment to swing his leg over, and seat himself on your thighs; you involuntarily hold him down so the bed doesn't accidentally creak.
“You’re so eager for it.”
His arse slides roughly over your dick, which is unfortunately beginning to show interest.
He nods, adorably enthusiastic.
“You don't even know what it’s gonna feel like.”
“I think it's gonna be fuckin’ brilliant.”
You're smiling wryly.
“Why d’you think that?”
“’Cause it's you, innit?” he says.