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He just got off the phone with Liam and tried to not replay the conversation in his mind too much. At first, as if being sent by their Mam, he sweetly asked Noel if he’s coming over for dinner. Noel wasn't planning to yet, despite saying he might, but then Liam said he wants to see him and that he misses him. All the response Noel managed to muster up was a mumbled “me too” for the former, and a heavy silence for the latter. He sealed the phone call with a “see you tomorrow, alright?” whilst staring at his hands as he was fidgeting with the chord.
“Hmph, yeah.” Was the answer on the other side of the line before it went dead.
I miss you too
Liam already rang him three times since he got back, along with their Mam, to ask when he is coming over for dinner. And Noel was only away for three weeks, and also sent them a postcard. “Tomorrow,” he said yesterday, and “yeah, tomorrow,” was his answer today. So really, tomorrow it is. But for now, he was planning on having a quiet evening alone in the flat. That seemed to be the best solution to all the thoughts running around his mind. Sitting cozily on the sofa, listening to some records, having a beer, then nodding off to sleep, with whether to smoke the remainder of his pot tonight or not being the biggest dilemma occupying his mind. No Liam business. That is all he wanted.
He misses Liam sitting next to him, making these Liam-esque comments about a TV programme, a song, or just something he did or saw. He misses his weight next to him on the bed, he misses his hands…
He sat down on the sofa, biting on the skin around his nails. He doesn’t know why he tried to avoid Liam this time. Why he couldn’t tell him he missed him too. What is today’s made-up reason?
The next couple of hours go according to plan, listening to a radio show reviewing the recent football transfers, and even making himself something to eat, whilst definitely not thinking about Liam. So, when there is an unexpected knock on his door, Noel tells himself it cannot be who he thinks it is, it can be a million other different people, just not him. As he hesitantly opens the door, he realises he ran out of luck. A boy of many surprises.
Liam walks past him and inside the flat, with his hands deep in his coat’s pockets, looking around on purpose, as if to see whether something had changed since the last time he was there. He knows nothing had changed; Noel knows he visits the place when he is away.
Liam opens a drawer, then closes it. “D’you have some pot here? right? Borrowed some last time I was here.”
“Hello to you too,” Noel answers, pretending to be offended.
“Uh, yea. Hey,” he says, opening more drawers, "and the pot?"
"Smoked it all right before you came in." Noel smiles and sits back down on the sofa. He can see Liam grinning to himself as he keeps opening and closing various drawers and cabinets, even though he knows exactly where the pot is. As if he tries to leave his marks on the territory.
After he gathers what he was looking for, he joins Noel on the sofa.
“Liked your postcard, by the way.”
“See? And you say I don’t think about you,” Noel replies, jokingly, but vaguely regrets it right after for a reason he fails to understand.
Liam lights his joint without saying anything else. Noel looks at him smoking, watching the curl of his lips around the joint.
Neither of them is talking. He wants to touch him, to give him a kiss. He missed him. But he is not going to say it, not even now. He brushes his hand on Liam's arm instead. Liam hands him the joint instinctively, and he doesn’t even want to smoke now, but he still takes it. Your lips are where his lips were a moment ago.
After a while, Noel’s mood lightens up, thanks to the drugs probably. Liam is sitting with his back against Noel’s side, as Noel tells him about his not-so-interesting new adventures as a roadie. He asks him if he tried any new drugs, a detail he always cares about. After listening intently, he says that he wants the both of them to do E together. Noel promises him they would. Then Liam turns around and gives him a soft kiss on the lips. Noel’s stomach turns a bit. I love you.
Now it is Liam’s turn to tell him what he was up to during those few weeks and what is up at home. The room feels hazy as he keeps on talking. Noel feels as if he is listening to the melody of his voice, instead of the content of his stories. He loves listening to Liam’s voice. But then, as he laughs at something he said, Noel starts laughing with him, despite not knowing why. And then the both of them are laughing together, not knowing why.
Noel brushes Liam’s hair silently.
“I missed you, you know?” Liam says after a while, all serious, sitting on the other side of the sofa.
Noel’s throat feels dry. “I know… I did too.”
Liam lies against him again, and he pets his hair. He just wants to fall asleep with him like that, on the sofa. Without talking or thinking too much. Without all these mental agonies that always arise which unfortunately seem to be looming ahead tonight, just because that is how it always is. The way he is, the way Liam is. The way he touches you, the way your stomach turns whenever he does that.
Liam turns around again. Leaning closer than before. Breathing against his ear. “I love you, you know? Really do”.
Noel doesn’t say anything. He can’t.
Then Liam gets up, and slowly walks into Noel's bedroom. After he hears his bed creaks, he gets up, and slowly walks after him. It all feels too familiar. And to think that your goal for tonight was to not think about him too much. So much for that.
~~
Liam is lying on his bed, in his flat, smoking his pot, with his head in his lap, and is staring either at him or at the ceiling. Noel’s hand slightly touches his hair. He closes his eyes. The air feels hazy again, and Noel feels a bit ill. You always do. He is not sure if it’s the pot or…
“Gimme that,” Noel mumbles and takes the joint out of Liam’s mouth. His fingers linger on Liam’s lips a bit too long.
He lies there for a few more minutes, before abruptly getting up, exclaiming he’s bored. Noel frown a bit, his weight felt nice. Then Liam sits next to him again, with his back against the headboard, and steals the joint back, as if some protest for his boredom. Noel looks at him from the corner of his eye, and then leans his head on his shoulder, closing his eyes. “Can’t do much about that, kid...”
“Let’s do something then.”
“Like what?”
“Dunno”, he shrugs, and Noel doesn’t say anything back.
They just sit like that for a while, in silence. Liam taking slow drags from the joint, and Noel just trying to relax. Then Liam puts the joint aside and looks at him, seeming a bit hurt. He slowly touches his face and his arm, and Noel hates himself as he tries to ignore these touches, as some voice screams in the back of his mind. And then Liam just kisses him. The only way to get your attention. He feels his hand on his jaw and kisses him back. It’s nice. Innocent. Then Liam’s mouth is on his neck and his hand is on his thigh. He gasps.
“Li-,“ he starts.
“Shut up,” he whispers, "now I'm not bored." His hands fumbles with Noel’s zipper and his hot breath against his throat.
Noel shallows. Hard. And really tries to shut his brain up. But then Liam’s hand is inside his trousers, touching the fabric of his boxers, and it is imminent sickness again. He wants to say something but either selfishly or cosiderately enough, he doesn't. He just lets out another gasp.
Liam grins against his lips and kisses him again. Now, Noel goes along with it. It feels good. Fuck your consciousness and that voice in the back of your mind.
His trousers are gone, and so are his boxers. Liam’s hands are on his hips now, with his hot breathe against his crotch. He briefly strokes Liam’s cheek as he kisses his thigh, and then takes him in his mouth. Noel fails at choking a moan and puts his hand in Liam’s hair. Closing his eyes. He has to look at him eventually, so he does, and he looks beautiful. Especially like that with his lips on your cock. Liam looks at him, from under his long lashes, and he closes his eyes again, as he keeps stroking his cheek and moaning.
Who cares. (I love you).
He feels as if he does not deserve to feel this good. Every time Liam’s head moves. Every warm breath against his skin. Every time he feels Liam’s fingers digging into his skin. Your sick pleasure. He tries not to move his hips too much. So you wouldn’t actually be fucking your brother’s mouth. This shouldn’t feel so good.
“God—fuck--- Liam,” he gasps, tugging at his hair.
Then he comes. He looks at Liam: he’s licking his lips, slightly panting. He move Noel’s hand from his cheek to his forehead, moving his hair away from his eyes.
Liam doesn’t seem to care about any of this the same way he does, at least that is what Noel thinks. He is too easy-going, always relaxed, always a bit too close, always loving, touching, kissing. Always on your bed. Liam wears his heart on his sleeve, and Noel thinks to himself that maybe if he were a little bit like him, then it would not be so hard. But it is.
Liam gets up and sits back next to him on the bed. Noel looks at him again. I love you, I love you, I love you, is the only thing running through his mind, but none of it comes out of his mouth. All he can do is look at his brother, hoping maybe there is some telepathic link there. Maybe Liam can read his mind and then he would not have to say anything and they could just look at each other in silence, without any difficulties. But he can see that the silence is bothered Liam. Maybe not today then.
Noel leans closer and gives Liam a soft kiss on the lips. He tastes salty. Noel puts his hand on the back of Liam’s head, putting their heads together: forehead to forehead, mind to mind. And then, Noel kisses him first, and Liam whimpers against his lips.
They both lie down on the bed again in a half-embrace. Noel lies over Liam, with his arm slung over his chest, and his face against his shoulder. “I love you,” he finally says into the fabric of Liam’s shirt.
Noel watches him as he drifts to sleep: watching him breathe, wishing he could climb into his chest and stay there forever.