Archive of Our Own ^beta

There are things that Liam can never say.

Mostly because no one’s there to say them to.

But also because it’s no good, putting it into words. Too fucking embarrassing, really. He isn’t stupid. He knows what it looks like. How much people pity him for hopelessly pining for Noel, who seems so well-adjusted and goes about his day without having to think about Liam twice before breakfast.

But it’s not, like, real pity. It’s just. Gloating. Fucking spiteful, is what it is.

Noel isn’t so spiteful anymore. Noel agreed. He finally agreed.

Liam’s beside himself.

But it’s also … fragile. Really fucking fragile. A truce brokered by everyone around them. Assistants and PR people and Debbie and his own fucking kids, can you believe that. Also everyone is taking great care they’re never left alone with each other. Not even on the phone if they can avoid it.

They’re afraid that Liam’s going to fuck it up.

No one says it outright, but it’s there.

And Noel … Noel hasn’t even properly looked at him, feels like. He’s all contained, keeps it cool. Smiles and stuff, but he never really addresses Liam, and Liam … Well, he isn’t scared. He’s not.

It’s just that … y’know. This is a good thing and he doesn’t want to risk it.

They’ve talked about it, Debs and him and everyone else. That he can’t slip. Can’t fall back on patterns of previous behavior. Big fucking load of shite that is. So he needs to play it cool, real cool. Needs to be on his best behavior and keep his hands to himself. Show up for appointments – fucking appointments, like there’s a fucking time table with fucking lessons slotted in – sober and on time.

He mustn’t get aggressive or loud. Mustn’t. It’s like he’s in fucking secondary school. He pretty much quit secondary school. No loss.

So, what it amounts to is, they keep telling him he can’t be himself around Noel. And it rankles. It makes him a little mad. Right, a lot mad. Like they’re afraid Noel can’t handle him. Noel can handle him just fine.

He just got sick of it.

And that’s … that’s not really a thought that Liam can afford to have, not when he wants to stay all wholesome and bright and optimistic.

So he plays by the rules. He’s getting really good at it, too. Even on X. He doesn’t think that people really appreciate it enough, all the restraint he’s showing. So much fucking restraint. That’s not rock’n’roll, that’s not him. A part of him even resents Noel for it.

But as much as he hates it, this is his chance to get Noel back, and he won’t fucking waste it.

So. Best behavior it is. He keeps his mitts to himself during the photo shoot. Noel actually squeezed it into his schedule, if you believe that, and they’re both in one room in front of the camera with no one between them.

As much as he wants to look at Noel, as much as he wants to get closer, he can’t. He sticks his hands in his pockets. It feels wrong. That’s not where his hands should be.

He always wants to touch Noel. But he can’t. He mustn’t.

So he doesn’t.

But it suddenly all feels very strange to him. Not the natural order of things. There’s not supposed to be that much room between the two of them. Noel doesn’t even look at him, he just talks to the photographer.

“Have a look?” the guy offers, and Liam leans in, a little, as much as he dares. Noel doesn’t pull away. He just stands there, his own hands in his own pockets, and puts on his trademark smile.

When he directs it at Liam, it hurts. Like them fucking fishhooks with barbs.

Noel never bothered to be polite. What use did they have for fucking courtesy? They’re brothers.

* * * * *

There are things Liam can never say.

You were supposed to be for me, and I for you.

My and me, they’re kind of the same where they grew up.

You were me.

Me what?

Me. Just me.

I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.

The Walrus meant something to him, wasn’t just singing it for nothing. He reckons that between the two of them, he’s the one who likes John more. That, if it came to it, Noel would choose Paul – Macca – over John. Just because John was rock’n’roll, like Liam, and Paul was … well, whatever. All about them tunes and the chord progression. And Paul had that family life shit going on, whereas John … John was the man. The main man. And Paul’s not. Even if he wrote Wonderwall. Yesterday. Point is …

You are me brother.

You are me, brother.

Things he cannot say:

You said we’d live forever. You promised. Where are you?

He feels so lost without Noel. As long as Noel was there, he didn’t have to step up. He could just be. Perpetual child, he heard someone say. Not just the once. People love that about him. Most people. Some people. But Noel didn’t, in the end. But the thing is, Liam never had a choice. He tried that grown-up thing a few times. It works for a while, to the point where he can almost fool himself. But in the end, where other people have brains, he has … ants. They scuttle about and wriggle and tickle like mad. And then he has to get up and do that thing, or that other thing. Fucking mental. But Noel didn’t use to mind so much.

Liam’s so fucking jealous. Of everyone who manages to get along with Noel. Who gets to have him in their lives. Not his kids, of course. The kids are alright. But the Witch. Who is now gone, finally. And all these posh friends of his. Liam doesn’t even know all their names, but they’re fucking cunts, the lot of them. He gets spitting mad thinking of how they all pretend to know Noel.

When they don’t. They just don’t.

Not like he does.

He knows Noel.

It’s just that somehow, he still can’t get him back. And it’s starting to be unbearable. It was painful, and he tried all sorts of distractions, and it worked, kind of. For a while. But now … now he doesn’t think he can go on for much longer.

Noel’s his other half. Simple as that. They are one person, just in two bodies. Noel is the head and Liam’s the heart, and now Liam’s stumbles around half mad and Noel’s heartless. A heartless bastard. But it’s only one soul, between them. That’s the thing no one else ever gets.

How can you live with only half your soul? For a while Liam thought it could grow back. Livers do that, sometimes. Why not souls.

Turns out it doesn’t work that way.

He needs Noel back. And he can’t say any of it, not even to Debbie. But she knows. Everyone knows.

If there are worse things than the other part of your soul telling you to fuck off because you make their life miserable, then Liam doesn’t know what they are.

The thing is, he didn’t. He didn’t make Noel miserable. Not all the time. Only sometimes.

But then the sometimes parts grew. Like lichen or summat. Until Liam only made him not miserable some of the time. And he couldn’t figure out a way to stop doing whatever it was that made Noel so mad. He told himself that Noel would get over it, because Noel always got over it. But it got worse. When Noel actually left, Liam didn’t know right from left and up from down.

Still doesn’t.

That’s also one of the things he mustn’t say.

* * * * *

In April, Noel’s busy in the studio preparing songs for the new album. He’s got a wealth of material, or so he says, which he’s been holding back because it was better suited for Oasis than his High Flying Birds. Even one or two old tunes that were never released which he’s planning to re-record. Liam’s fine with it. Noel keeps sending them to him so he can work on the vocals with his team. But he never mentions getting together in the studio to do the recording.

Liam likes these new tunes, he really does. It’s just that he misses Noel even more now they’re talking again. Talking but not talking. Reunited but not together.

* * * * *

Sometimes he thinks it was the other thing that drove Noel away.

But.

He’s never … Liam’s never done anything. Much. Would have, in a heartbeat. He still wakes with the memory of Noel’s taste on his lips. Doesn’t recall much of the gig they played, but he’s never been able to forget that.

If Noel had wanted, then …

Truth is, he wants to love Noel all over. Like Buttons when she has a place that’s hers. She rolls around, burrows herself in her blankets, digs with her snout, huffing and snorting and grunting and making a real fucking mess of it like she’s part mole. That’s how he wants to roll around with Noel. It’s not even the sex stuff, though, to be fair, he tries to avoid thinking about it because it’s too inappropriate of a reaction to have at his age, but anyways, that’s what he wants. Put Noel in his bed and then be all over him.

And sometimes he thinks that maybe Noel wanted that too.

But memory, he’s learned, isn’t a reliable thing. Maybe it was only in his mind.

He just doesn’t think … that it’s possible, to want someone like he wants Noel, and for Noel not to want him back. Doesn’t seem fair. On a cosmic scale. Or rather, it’s what he used to think. Not so sure these days. Noel no longer seems to want anything from him.

Liam can’t think about that, he can’t. Because if Noel really doesn’t want to be his brother anymore, then there’s no point in any of it, is there.

* * * * *

The rehearsals start in May, just Noel and the band. Liam gets nervous. They’re over there, doing their thing, and probably getting along splendidly.

“You could just drop by,” Debbie says. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

But he can’t.

Instead he messes about at home and drives her fucking mental while she tries to get her work done, and then she sends him out for a walk or a run or to the pub with some of his mates or the kids. He can’t shake the feeling that he’s meant to be elsewhere, but he can’t just show up there. Because what if Noel doesn’t want him there.

The thought drives him mad. Those ants are getting very ants-y.

He spends the days rehearsing all the songs. Or he would, but he can’t overexert his voice, it needs to be in top shape for the rehearsals, so he just recites the lyrics like he doesn’t know them by heart. Like you couldn’t wake him up with the chords to Live Forever and he’d start singing it even before his brain is fully online.

And then he gets a bit of a cold and can’t sing for a few days, and he’s in a right state. Drinks gallons of tea and takes whatever cold medication his mam recommends and wears an enormous fucking scarf when he walks the dog, tucked into the collar of his parka because the scarf is in lavender, for some reason, and he’s not a granny, thank you very much.

A few days later he’s expected in Noel’s fancy studio for rehearsals. So he and Debbie and the rest of his people, who are actually more her people, pile into cars and drive over. Hordes of fans and reporters witness their great entrance, and then the doors to Noel’s fancy studio close behind them and there they are.

He’s never been there before. But he’s seen the documentary for Council Skies that Noel’s kid made. So he doesn’t gawk around like some absolute nitwit.

The studio’s not very big, but big enough. Everything’s already set up. Things pushed to the side to allow for five people to do their thing.

All Liam sees is Noel. Who is standing in the control room as they pass him by, pleasant smile in place. “Look who’s here!”

And so they settle in. Noel shows everyone his studio, all charming and affable. The rest of the band shows up not long after, there’s a chorus of hellos and Noel keeps talking. To his people. To the band. To Debbie.

It’s fine. Liam can deal with it. He walks around and has a look at the kit. Adjusts the mike to his height (it’s already perfect). There’s a collection of tambourines and maracas laid out on the table, and he takes them and tests them which gives him something to do. He picks a maraca. The tambourines all feel too heavy in his hand.

He’s going to stand in front of the mic and start singing, and it’s all going to sort itself out.

It’s going to be fine.

It’s probably going to be fine.

And then the band piles into the studio, plugs everything in and they’re ready to go. Only Noel’s still missing. Everyone else has retreated into the kitchen area, and it’s just them. He can hear Noel give some final orders before he comes into the room. It’s a bit of a tight fit in here, but they’ve had worse. They’re going to change locations after the first couple of weeks, or so Liam’s been told, so they can rehearse with the extras.

He gets a fleeting noseful of Noel’s aftershave as he passes by. It’s distracting. After the photoshoot, Noel’s scent didn’t leave his nose for days. Liam would have given a fucking kidney to be able to smell him properly; he’s only had whiffs.

Debbie had raised her eyebrows at that one post on X where he basically said as much.

“What,” he’d said a little defensively, lying in bed with her. “It’s just the truth, innit? It’s not too weird, is it?”

She snuggled closer. “A little weird.” By which she meant, a lot.

“I know,” he said.

Thing is, he’s always known that what he felt for Noel was different. People don’t understand how different it is. He hasn’t asked for that weirdness either. It’s not like he has those kinds of feelings for anyone else. He’s never wanted to roll around Buttons-style with Paul, and thank fuck. But he can’t really explain it to anyone. Not even to Debbie. Doesn’t seem fair to her either.

So he kissed her instead. “But you love me, right? Even if I’m weird?”

She laughed a little. “Yeah. I love you.”

He held her, grateful that she was there with him because it helped. It helped a lot.

And now Noel’s so close that Liam could touch him, but he mustn’t.

Noel slides into place and picks up his guitar. Turns toward the rest of them. “Everyone ready?“ He meets Liam’s gaze from inscrutable blue eyes. “We’ll do the setlist, take it from the top.“

Which means they’ll start with Acquiesce.

Liam nods. His throat feels weirdly tight.

Someone takes a photo. Noel sharply turns his head. “Cut that shit out, you cunt!” Not having that. But since the cunt in question is their bassist, he probably won’t get fired on the spot.

And then they start playing, and it sounds good. Really good. Liam turns his head to look at Noel, and it’s all the times they were on stage together and it’s none of them. Noel looks down at his guitar, but around the time Liam’s verse is meant to begin, he raises his head and looks at Liam and gives him a little nod.

Liam turns to the mic and opens his mouth.

And nothing comes out.

He tries again, but –

Noel stops playing. So do the others. “All right. Er. Let’s do it again.”

They do it again. Liam’s heart beats too fast. He focuses on the mic and focuses on just the right moment, on his voice where it’s meant to be. Breathes in and …

He just can’t.

This time, when they break off, it’s dead silent in the room. Liam closes his eyes.

“Liam? What the fuck’s going on?”

Liam doesn’t know what’s going on. He honestly doesn’t. He only knows that he can’t sing. For whatever reason, he can’t sing a single note.

He can’t even speak.

He slowly turns his head to look at Noel, who doesn’t even seem angry. Just baffled.

“What’s wrong with you?”

And Liam opens his mouth and shuts it again.

He feels lightheaded.

He wants a drink.

He wants to kick something.

He needs air.

He drops the maraca. It lands with a clatter as he walks out of the room.

What he really wants, his first instinct, is to leave straight through the front door and declare that the reunion is off. But that’s precisely what everyone expects of him. So he can’t. He mustn’t. The next best thing is a flight of stairs leading up to the first floor. The upstairs area is fully furnished but more sober than the ground floor, airy and quiet. Blessedly empty. He finds another set of stairs to the second floor with a locked door at the end of it. He sits down on the landing and buries his head in his hands.

He needs …

He needs his brother.

* * * * *

He sits there for a while because he doesn’t know what else to do. When he hears noises from downstairs, he wonders whether Debbie’s going to come looking for him. And how he’s going to explain this to her.

Someone comes up the stairs. Two someones. And then he hears hushed, familiar voices.

“What the fuck is wrong with him?” Noel.

“I don’t know!” Debbie says. “What happened in there? Where is he?”

“I have no fucking idea! He was meant to sing. And then he just … didn’t.”

“He – what?”

“He didn’t fucking sing. Not a single fucking tone.”

Liam pulls his shoulders in. Trying to make himself very, very small.

“Is there something wrong with his voice, or …?” Noel sounds downright bewildered. “Did he forget the lyrics, or what?”

Liam bristles. Like he would.

“No,” Debbie says. “He’s been practicing for weeks.“

“He has?”

“Every single day.” There’s something in her voice that gives Liam pause.

“Then what’s his problem? What is he on?”

“He’s been sober since February.”

“As far as you know,” Noel says.

Fucking cunt.

Debbie isn’t having it either. “I know because I’m living with him and he doesn’t keep secrets from me. What did you say to him?”

“Me? I said nothing,” Noel says, clearly angry now. “Look, I have no idea what’s got into him. But if this is what it’s going to be like, we can as well call the whole thing off.”

There’s a pause, and he can just imagine Debbie shaking her head. “I don’t know what happened,” she says. “But he’s been worrying himself sick these past months.”

“Worrying?” Noel says, in that tone of utter disbelief. “What about?”

“Everything! He’s afraid he’ll fall off the wagon, afraid his voice will go out. Most of all, he’s afraid he’ll do something that gives you reason to give up on him again. Because he doesn’t know what the rules are. This reunion means everything to him. You know it does. And it’s not because he wants to be on stage. He’s proven he can do it. But I know he’s secretly dreading the tour. It’s so many concerts. His voice has never fully recovered.“

Miserable, Liam puts the heels of his hands over his eyes.

Noel’s reply is too hushed to understand.

“No, not that bad. It holds up well, most of the time, if he doesn’t overdo it. If he doesn’t drink. But you know how hard it’s going to be for him on tour.“

“If it’s that difficult, I don’t get why he would –“

“I can’t fucking believe you!” she says angrily, well beyond a whisper now. Debbie doesn’t swear a lot, not like Liam, but when she does, she’s magnificent. “He does it for you, you idiot!”

Silence.

“Tell me you aren’t that stupid.” It sounds like she’s clenching her teeth. Spitting mad, she is. Liam heartily approves of it. “After everything you and your friends said over the years, you want to pretend you don’t know he’s doing this, all of this, to get you back? God knows why, because all that I see is a man with his head so far up his own arse he can’t be bothered to see what’s right in front of him.”

You tell him, Debbie. His girl. Fucking mega.

“Now wait a fucking second, I …”

“Each song he writes, it’s for you,” she says. “Each gig he plays, it’s for you. Because he loves you. More than he should.”

Liam’s heart does a painful little thing.

“What’s that supposed to mean?“

“You know what it means. You know exactly what it means,” and that appears to shut Noel up proper. “I’m not getting in the middle of that! But you know. And if …” She lowers her voice again, and now Liam’s straining to catch it. If it’s something she doesn’t want to say out loud, it’s probably something Noel doesn’t want to hear, and Liam won’t miss it. “If you love him at all, if there’s any love for him left in you, you need to show him that. And I don’t care how. I don’t care how.”

The sudden viciousness very nearly makes Liam flinch. He imagines her staring at Noel from her wide blue eyes. An expression he knows far too well. It’s a gaze that gives no quarter. Can’t pretend to be dumb under that gaze.

“God knows the man is a piece of work. I constantly fix his messes for him. You know all about that. But I do it because he’s worth it. Because I love him. And he loves me.” A pause as she takes a deep breath. “I know how to love him. But there’s a part of him that isn’t mine to love.”

There is a long silence.

Liam presses the heels of his hands deeper into his eye sockets. So that it hurts just a little. He’s not sure he can stand to hear the rest.

“I can’t believe you went all this way only for the money,” Debbie says, calmer than before but with a quiet conviction that is just as difficult to bear. “I can’t believe you kept that feud alive and running all these years because he means nothing to you. You’re just as obsessed with him as he is with you. So find a way. Bloody find a way to show him that.”

Another long silence.

“Do you know where he’s gone?” she asks after a moment.

“Probably out the back door,” Noel says. He’s lying. Liam can hear it in his voice.

“All right.” Debbie sighs. “I’m going to go and send everyone home. It’s going to be a fucking PR nightmare. But I’ll deal with it. For his sake, not yours! And you … you better think really hard about what it is that you want out of this. Because if it’s just about the money, then you need to be honest with him. You can’t just use him like that. It’s going to kill him if you do.”

And then she walks down the stairs, and there's a lot of noise and arguing as people start to pack up and leave the house.

Liam keeps sitting there, hands over his eyes, and tries to keep breathing and not think of anything.

Footsteps, and then Debbie’s calls upstairs, “There’s a coffee shop down the road. I’ll go and have a latte and a donut. Then I’ll be heading home. If he comes back, tell him I’ll be there. He’ll know what it means.”

Fuck. Debbie. His heart is so full of her, sometimes, that it aches.

It just aches for Noel more.

Always has.

“I’ll tell him,” Noel says.

Debbie’s steps fade away. The door opens and closes one final time, and then everything is very quiet. The entire house is soundproofed; not even the traffic noise comes in.

Slow, quiet steps approach on the carpeted floor and pause at the foot of the stairs.

“Are you going to come down now?” Noel says.

* * * * *

Liam won’t. But he does lift his head when Noel climbs up the stairs. “How did you know –“

“Back door’s locked and you don’t have the code.” Noel sits down beside him on the landing. “Also, I heard you breathing.” Fucking musician’s ear.

“So, is it over?” Are you quitting again? Am I?

It’s like that gay cowboy movie that Nic made him watch once. I wish I could quit you. He didn’t quite get it then. Fucking nonsense. You don’t quit the other half of your soul.

Then, the first couple of years after Noel had gone, Liam almost understood.

“Is what over,” Noel says.

Everything. “Y’know.”

Noel sits there quietly. Probably tries to find he right words, like it’s one of his precious interviews where he’s all self-assured and fucking suave.

If this is where Noel calls it all off, that’s fine. He’ll deal with it. He won’t overreact. He’ll be just as calm. A real grown-up, like. He’ll just go home and –

He’s not sure what.

But Noel says nothing. He just sits there and plays with the ring on his right hand.

“It’s okay,” Liam manages after a moment. He can’t look at him. “You can say it.”

“Say what?”

“No band if the frontman can’t sing, is there.” He messed up proper.

“What are you on about?” Noel says. “You can sing.”

“Can’t.”

“Didn’t –”

“Can’t.”

Noel huffs a laugh. He nudges Liam’s shoulder. “You’re an idiot.” If Liam didn’t know better, he’d say Noel sounds affectionate. “I know you can sing, and you’re going to.”

“Can’t.”

He doesn’t see the eyeroll, but he knows it’s there. “I should go look for Debs,” Liam says, testing the waters.

“Sure, if you want to,” Noel easily agrees. There’s no urgency in his words. Like he would be content to sit up here with Liam for all eternity.

Which is a nice thought. Sentimental. Very unlike Noel.

Noel starts humming a little tune. Very quietly.

It takes Liam a moment to pick up on the familiar melody. “Are you …” He has to lift his head in order to look at Noel because he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Is that …?” Noel keeps humming, and yes, it’s Once. “You … you bloody liar. You said you didn’t like it!”

Noel stops. “That’s not true.”

“You said, people should only hear it once.”

“It was a wordplay. It was advertising,” Noel says, and even Liam can hardly argue with that.

“Why this one, though?”

“It’s a good tune.”

“Didn’t write it by meself.”

“I like the way you’re singing it,” Noel says. “Your voice recovered well,” and that’s a bit of a bummer.

They never talked about it in these terms. About Liam losing his voice and what it meant. “I take better care of it now.”

Noel shrugs. And then he says, “I should have taken better care of you too.”

It’s so unexpected that it takes Liam a moment to make sense of the words. “What?”

“When you were struggling.” He doesn’t look at Liam. “I mean, the booze and the parties didn’t help –”

No they didn’t. Liam shrugs. They were all he had left.

“But I should have paid more attention.”

Fuck if he knows what to say to that. It’s almost like Noel’s apologizing. They don’t do that apology shit. Never have. It’s … something.

Noel sighs. “Liam.”

“What.”

“Look at me, you twat.”

Liam slowly lifts his head.

That’s his brother, right there, grey and pale and wrinkled. Somehow, while Liam wasn’t looking, Noel got old. He’s still the most beautiful person Liam knows. Liam would like to look at him forever. He loves watching Noel. Always has. But watching people too long tends to creep them out. Noel especially. And there were so many fucking pairs of eyes who would catch him at it. So he had to learn to moderate it, do it only in bits and pieces. When he could get away with it.

But he thinks that after not getting to look at him properly for so long, he can maybe push his luck a little. Just a little.

“I’m sorry, yeah?” Noel says, very quietly, so much that Liam thinks he must have misheard. “I know I made it look like it was all your fault, but it wasn’t.”

“No?” Liam says. That’s fucking news to him. Noel should to call the fucking Sun and let them know.

Noel smiles. Liam’s riveted by it.

The smile fades. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Oh,” Liam says and makes himself look away.

“No, I don’t mean …” Noel shakes his head again, sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “When you look at me like that, I always think … What's he looking at me for? Doesn’t feel like I deserve it, you know.”

Liam blinks. “Huh?”

“Like I’d put the stars in the sky for you,” Noel says. “I never knew what to do with that. ‘Cause I really wasn’t … You have to know I was just trying to keep it all together. I wasn’t a bloody hero, you know? Most of the time, I was a right cunt.” He sighs. “And I didn’t take care of you like I should have. You know, I look at Anaïs, and I think about how I’d never just throw her in that fish tank to sink or swim. With all the sharks out there, it’s eat or get eaten. And we didn’t even get to practice like she did. I didn’t know how to take care of anyone back then. Not even myself! Had to learn that first.” He shrugs. “So I guess, when you look at me like that … I mostly see how I fucked up.”

“Didn’t,” Liam immediately says. “I was old enough to make my own mistakes, wasn’t I?”

Mistakes were made. They were his. Noel doesn’t get to take them from him. He wouldn’t have let Noel tell him what to do anyway.

“Not saying you didn’t,” Noel says. “But a lot of what I did back then probably didn’t help.”

Liam stares at him. It’s a little like Noel’s rewriting history. Their history.

“So, it wasn’t all your fault. And, if you want me to be honest …”

“Yeah?” He’s greedy for more.

“Truth is, the band, Oasis, all of that, it was never just about making music. It was … it was ours, you know? And I liked that it was ours. That we built something. That we shared that. Wouldn’t have been as good without you.” And then, after wringing his hands as if he needs to pull it out of himself, like it kills him to admit it, “It’s better with you.” He shakes his head. “Only we made a right mess of it. I wish I could have ended it differently. But I had to end it.”

For once, there isn’t any sort of accusation in his tone, just some distant sort of regret.

“Was it because –“

Noel waits. Lifts an eyebrow as Liam fails to continue.

“Because –“ His throat threatens to close up on him again. “What Debbie said. ‘Cause – ‘cause I love you more than I should?”

Noel inhales sharply. Liam hangs his head.

“No,” Noel says after a long while. “That wasn’t – that wasn’t the problem.”

“No?”

“No.” He huffs. “I’m not saying it wouldn’t have been, if you’d – if you’d pushed. Back then.”

“Then what …?”

“Liam,” Noel says, very gently. “It was everything else. I’m not going to make a list of it because you know. You were there. And I’m not saying it to throw stones. I’m not.”

Which is probably a first, Liam thinks a little meanly. “If it was that bad, then why …?”

“Because I miss the good parts of it,” Noel says. “I miss my brother. I miss – us, when it was good. And I thought, maybe we’re both in a better place now.”

“Oh,” Liam breathes, and it feels like something in him is giving way. “But you – you didn’t want to talk to me. You were all aloof. Like you didn’t actually want –”

Noel shrugs. “Yeah, so I was wary, I can’t deny that. And I … I didn’t quite know how – how to be brothers again.” He gives Liam a little half-smile. “I don’t have all the answers. Shocking, I know.” Liam wants to kiss that smile off him really badly. “Everybody on my side urged caution. They said not to put too much pressure on you. And somehow … It was harder than expected. You’d think, now that it’s finally happening, everyone would be over the moon. But it’s like they’re trying to keep us apart as much as they can so it doesn’t all implode.”

“Debbie doesn’t,” Liam says.

“Yeah, what’s the fuck is up with that bird?” Noel says like he’s got a hard time believing it.

“She’s the top lady,” Liam says proudly.

Debbie knows. She knows and she still helped him get Noel back.

“I’m starting to get that.” That little half smile again. “But she’s worried too. You heard.”

Liam just nods. “So – you wanted more. More than just the tour, I mean. Not more than – but, brothers,” he adds hastily.

Noel rolls his eyes but doesn’t deny it. He nudges Liam’s shoulder again. “C’mon downstairs. I want to show you something.”

He doesn’t wait for Liam’s reply but gets up and walks down the stairs. Liam follows him after a moment. As he’s always followed him. Back to the ground floor and into the empty studio where Noel picks up an acoustic guitar and sits down on the leather couch.

“So,” he says, looking up at Liam as Liam cautiously approaches and sits down next to him. “You want to try that singing thing again?”

Immediately Liam’s throat constricts again. He swallows.

Noel starts strumming and singing softly.

Maybe

I don’t really wanna know

how your garden grows

Liam listens. Something is slightly off. “Did you …?”

Cause I just wanna fly.

Almost without wanting to, Liam opens his mouth, and joins his voice to his brother’s. Very softly, more of a hum.

Lately

did you ever feel the pain

in the morning rain

He stops. Looks at Noel who keeps singing.

as it soaks you to the bone

And then the part where the melody takes him higher. Higher, but not … “You lowered the key.”

Noel stops singing. The chords die down. “Yeah. For most of ‘em, actually. Not just today. All along, for the rehearsals. Which you’d know if you’d bothered to show up, you twat.” But it’s said in the sweetest, most affectionate mockery Liam can imagine.

He wants to hear more of that. Like a songbird, Noel is.

“In case you didn’t notice,” Noel says with something almost like embarrassment, “it’s getting harder for me too, to go that high. Especially when we’re playing live.”

“But you did it for me.”

Noel nods, and it’s like that one little gesture makes the knot finally unravel. “Biblical,” Liam says. “Fucking mega.”

Noel nods and picks up where he stopped. His voice isn’t quite steady.

Liam starts singing along. For a brief moment, it’s awful. His own voice is too grating. Noel starts out too strong. Noel dials it back with the next line, and Liam adjusts to singing along with him. It’s a bit of back and forth before they find a balance, the right way to hold the notes and make it sound good. Noel does the falsetto part, the one that Liam never tried again after Noel took over singing it.

After Noel had gone, there’d been a hole in that song. But now it’s fixed. Slotted right back into place.

Chris fucking Martin can fuck right off.

They sing the whole song. Noel smiles at him as he stops.

“You could have said,” Liam says. He’s smiling too.

“I just did, you twat.” Noel keeps aimlessly strumming his guitar. Chords without progression. It’s so familiar. And Liam has missed it so badly.

Everything inside of him is drawn to Noel. Worse than ever. He doesn’t know what to do with it. Can’t. Mustn’t. But his heart isn’t listening. The heart wants what it wants, an’ all that. So he doesn’t think, just shuffles closer and then puts his forehead against Noel’s shoulder.

The strumming stops.

Liam closes his eyes. Breathes Noel in. Finally. Fucking irresistible.

So this is what it feels like to have his soul back. Like all the ants are now covered in glitter and stardust.

Noel pushes the guitar aside. Liam feels him take a deep breath. Then he turns toward Liam, raises a hand and carefully puts a hand on Liam’s head. Strokes his hair, scratches his scalp with blunt fingers.

Liam melts under his touch. This. Yes. Better than cocaine. Better than anything.

And then Noel stops. Liam makes a tiny noise of protest.

Noel takes another one of these sharp breaths. “Liam.”

“Mhm.” Liam has no intention to move away. Ever.

“When the tour is done.” Noel’s voice sounds weirdly clipped. “And if we’re still talking. Then.” Liam can hear him swallow. “We could go away, if you like. A weekend, maybe. Just us. And –“

“An’ what?”

“Who the fuck knows? Whatever ... whatever happens, I guess.”

For a second, Liam thinks he’s misheard. Or misunderstood. He lifts his head from Noel’s shoulder. “Are you saying –“

“I’m not saying anything,” Noel hastily assures. Ever the coward. Fucking scaredy-cat. “Just. Maybe.”

Liam stares at him.

Noel stares at the wall. At his guitar. At the fucking floor. Anywhere. Just not at Liam.

That wasn’t the problem. I’m not saying it wouldn’t have been, if you’d – if you’d pushed. Back then.

Back then.

“You mean, you –“

“Liam,” Noel says, agonized and a little unsteady. “Don’t make me fucking talk about it.”

Oh. Oh.

Not a maybe then. More of a definitely.

That takes a moment to digest. The ants are very busy for a moment, it’s just black-and-white TV static up there. Still with the glitter. He’s going to need to commission a glam rock parka if that goes on. “And if my voice goes out?”

“It won’t.” Noel shrugs. “But if it does, then we can still go. Just sooner.”

Now Liam gapes at him. “How’s the fuck’s that supposed to stop me from messing up on purpose?”

Noel laughs and shakes his head ruefully. It’s a real laugh too. All good things wrapped into one. Like a bubbling stream and fluffy white lambs on spring-green hills and early morning runs on the Heath. Like an entire bag of pure white powder.

“You won’t.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because you love being on stage too much,” Noel says. “So do I.”

Fair enough. “Only if it’s with you.” It’s been so hard, doing all these concerts by himself. To prove that he could. That he could show up and be all reliable and whatnot. “No fun without you.” He lets himself look at Noel again. The way he wants to.

Their eyes meet.

Noel stills.

For a fraction of a second, Liam sees right into him. And immediately knows two things for a fact.

One: If he leans in now, Noel won’t pull back.

Two: Noel’s scared. More than Liam, even.

He’ll need a bit of a soft touch, then. Like Buttons did when she first moved in. Lots of space and time. Can’t rush that. It’s all right. Liam can be patient, if that’s what it takes. For Noel.

Then Noel looks away, caught-out, and reaches for his guitar. “Think you can sing with me now?”

They do half the setlist together, there in the studio, with no one else around, just because they can. Noel records Whatever just so they have something to give to their team for damage control.

Liam sends it to Debbie. He gets a FINALLY with two heart emojis back. He breathes in relief. His own and hers.

Couldn’t agree more.

It’s a shift in his entire universe.

Life is good.

“So, you gonna kiss me, or what,” Liam says after they’ve finished with Some Might Say and called it a day.

“Don’t fucking push your luck.” But from the way Noel goes red when he says it, Liam might get that kiss even before the tour ends. If he keeps asking nicely.