Thank you SiriusBlackfan5405 (thanks for the nice review! I hope you can view the chapter now), JulezB (I suck at grammar, thanks for the pointer. Does anyone know how I can change it, now?), Dude Wheres My Cheese (LOL! Poor spiders! Thanks for review me and tolerating my laziness! PS: ANYONE WHO LIKES LUPIN/TONKS OR HAN/LEIA READ THIS PERSON!), Winterlove4 (I agree, that was very selfish of Mandy. And they are just the cutest couple ever! I hope this chapter satisfies!), wiseupjanetweiss (thank you! I live off good reviews like yours!)

Disclaimer: unfortunately, I don't own these characters, though I wish badly I owned Curt Wild! And maybe Brian, too, so I can watch them be cute together!

Angel

Chapter three: Curt and Brian

"Bri?" Curt whispered, scanning every inch of Brian's face with his eyes in disbelief. He wanted to trace the curves of Brian's features with his fingers, just to make sure it was him, to make sure this wasn't some cruel joke of his drunken state. Brian suddenly looked very nervous.

"It-it's Tommy--"

"No," Curt growled, "You don't look like goddamn Tommy to me."

"Can't we continue somewhere more private?" Brian offered, ignoring Curt's remark. Curt noticed that same distant look in Brian's eyes, that distant look from that horrible night he wished had never happened.

"Oh," he said, feeling poisonous rage bubbling, "is Tommy afraid of being assassinated?"

Brian gave Curt a dangerous look and sat down at the table that Curt had spent the last ten minutes drinking at. Curt pulled out the chair adjacent to Brian's and looked at the floor.

"I--I'm sorry," he said, still not meeting Brian's gaze. "It's just—I missed you."

He looked up and gave Brian a sort of sad smile.

But Brian didn't return it and instead said coldly, "Well, you should have thought about that before you drove away and left me."

"What!" Curt said, unchecked rage exploding, "me left you! You're delusional! You were gone way before I drove away. You were lost in that damn Demon!

"Yeah?" Brian said, his quiet seething making an obvious contrast to Curt as he leaned foreword, "well what about you? You stopped caring about our music, you forgot about our fans. It was obvious by the way you were singing you had stopped putting effort into your songs, that you would rather waste our time spending forty hours," thirty-six, Brian quietly told Tommy, "on two bloody cuts!"

"Or maybe," Curt fumed, "I had more on my mind. Like love, for example."

"What did you want me to do?" Brian had lost his cool composure now and was raging madly. "Go along with some crazy scheme of yours and forget all about my music?"

Curt's voice was quieter, shaking not with rage as much as with hurt, "All I ever wanted was your love, and you know that. But you only had love for Maxwell fucking Demon."

Curt was positively brimming with hurt and rage and looked like he might overturn a few tables. Instead he looked away from Brian, swallowed, and tried to melt back into his chair. Brian turned away as well and took a deep breathe.

Curt felt guilt gnawing at him again and realized he was doing something terribly wrong. He had waited nearly ten years for a moment to talk with Brian to fix all the mistakes he had made and take back all the things he had said and hadn't meant. And now that he finally got the opportunity, he had spent it arguing over pointless matters of the past. There was nothing either of them could do about what happened, but maybe Curt could make the future a little better. The awkward silence was making him absolutely crazy and his eyes darted around looking for a place to land. He glanced at Brian and looked away, embarrassed, only to sneak a peak at him again. God, Brian was beautiful. The dim light from the bar haloed his features, enhancing his voluptuous lips and deep blue eyes.

Like an angel.

The waiter appeared suddenly, startling them both.

"Here's your champagne, sir," he said, placing the glass in front of Curt. Curt didn't remember ordering champagne, in fact, he knew he didn't. But, hey, it wasn't the worst mistake a waiter could make, and Curt decided not to waste the opportunity even though he felt Brian looking at him.

"Thanks," Curt told the waiter and turned to Brian, giving him one of his prettiest smiles. "To the loveliest man in Europe," Curt said and raised his glassed slightly towards Brian before taking a large gulp. A little bitter, but it left a nice warm feeling in his throat and that was all that mattered. Brian felt hypnotized by his former lover as a wave of nostalgia hit him with brutal force. This wasn't fair, this torrent of emotions rushing through his body that had become so accustomed to being numb and distant to the real world.

"Don't say that," he said weakly, knowing it was a poor rebuke, but he really couldn't stand the way Curt was looking at him.

"But it's true," Curt replied simply, enjoying being able to watch Brian with such ease and without having to pay for a ticket. "You look like," he paused for a moment to look down at the floor, wondering if he'd be able to get the words out again without loosing his composure. He looked Brian directly in the eyes so Brian might understand the sincerity of the words as he said, "you look like an ang--"

But just at that moment the jukebox hummed to life and Tommy Stone's voice filled every crevice of the bar. They both snapped to the source of the sound and when Curt looked back Brian was gone. Curt jumped to his feet.

"Brian!"

He had grabbed his makeup bag and bolted like a frightened deer. Idiot, idiot, idiot. What were you thinking? He had just been under Curt's spell, that's all. He had forgotten who he was for a moment. That was the only explanation to why he had come to close to grabbing Curt by the collar of his jacket and smashing his lips against Curt's. Fool, he had to get out of here. He thought he heard Curt call his name, but all he could think about was getting out. OUT. O-U-T.

He came to a jolting stop as he snagged something and fell back into it. Curt had a hold of his arm and a look of confusion stamped on his face.

"I--", Brian began, and realized they were standing only inches away from the cursed jukebox. "Let go of me!" he yelled and Curt hesitated only a moment before he released his grip. Brian pulled himself away but now had less of a desire to run and just stood there watching Curt. "I—this is stupid," Brian said, infinitely calmer now but a struggle raw in his voice. "I am Tommy Stone now. I have millions of fans that rely on me to remain that way. I have a band that needs me to sing for them; I have gigs set up for months ahead." He was in his element now, he was Tommy Stone again. He calmed down considerably. "I just came to tell you to stop coming to my concerts and leave me alone. I am not Brian anymore, you have to realize that. Okay?"

Curt nodded slightly, playing distractedly with the jukebox, not daring to look at Brian's impatient face. "Yeah," he nodded again, "alright. I won't go to Tommy's concerts." He straightened out and looked Brian in the eyes. There was some familiar look in Curt's eyes he had seen often, but Brian couldn't quite remember what it was. Curt went silent and Brian thought Curt might be waiting for him to talk. There was something very uncomfortable about this, something nagging at Brian, but he couldn't see what was wrong.

"Well, I've gotta go now--" Brian said, observing Curt cautiously. Yes, there was definitely something wrong here. This was all too easy.

"You can go," Curt responded, "but first…" Curt pressed a button on the jukebox and a song jumped to life that drained the color from Brian's face. "First," Curst repeated, except with a smug smile this time, "you're gonna have to dance with me."

Brian opened his mouth to protest but Curt snatched Brian's makeup bag faster than an expert pickpocket and raced through the bar.

"Curt!" Brian yelled and sped after him, "Curt give that back to me!" But Curt was pasted all reasoning as usual and jumped on an empty table, with little more force than he expected and almost slipped off. Brian stopped short at the table and growled, "Curt, get down from there right now and give me my bag."

"Brian," Curt mimicked, "get up here right now and dance with me!"

Brian noticed people were beginning to turn to the source of commotion and knew he had a very limited amount of time before people began putting two and two together, thanks for that recent outburst by that damn reporter.

"Curt," he warned, "people are staring--"

"Then I'm gonna look like a damn fool dancing up here by myself."

"Curt--"

"Bum, bum, bum," Curt sang the words of "Satellite of Love" into a spoon while he spun around the table and Brian felt his resolve melting and his heart quickening. Oh, how he wanted to get up and dance like the old days with not a care to innocent observers. But times had changed now. Things were…different, stricter. Why couldn't Curt see that? But then again, wasn't it Curt's obliviousness to what others thought of him what drew Brian to Curt in the first place? That obliviousness that Curt was clearly displaying as he took off his shirt and twirled it in the air. The small audience in the bar laughed and Brian put his hand over his mouth to hide his laughter. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He banished his thoughts and once again tried to persuade Curt down.

"Curt—can we continue talking somewhere more private?"

"I don't want to talk," Curt replied stubbornly with his arms folded across his chest like a child. "I want to dance. Now, either you get up here right away, or I'm gonna have to force you up."

"Curt, will you just--" but Curt had already jumped onto the floor and swooped Brian off his feet. "No--I---you're impossible!" Brian struggled against his bonds and suddenly remembered a certain day at the beach—

Curt let him down on the table but kept his arm hooked around Brian's waist so he couldn't get away and began dancing and singing with his face against Brian's, "Satellite of love, Sat-el-lite of…" Brian got lost somewhere in Curt's voice that drowned all other sounds out of his ears, the soft feeling of Curt's cheek brushing his own, Curt's warm body against his. He didn't know how long he allowed it to go on, but after a few moments Brian snapped back. Tommy Stone snapped back. Hell, he was so confused. He pulled himself away from Curt so violently that he almost slipped off the table. Curt gave him a confused look which melted into one of hurt.

Curt cleared his throat before he said, "Bri, am I gonna have to call a priest to exorcise Tommy Stone?" Brian turned away from Curt and without a moments warning broke down into sobs. Curt was there quickly to the rescue and wrapped his arms around his lover. It was impossible to describe Curt's embrace. Impossible to describe that kind of comfort, that security. That feeling that no one else can give you that makes all your fears wash away as though they were mere grains of sand up against the pull of the tide.

Brian's looked up at him with sad deer eyes and stammered, "I…I…" Where to begin? I'm sorry. I missed you. I love you. I will never let it happen again…which was most important, most immediate? But when he gazed into Curt's eyes he felt all his uncertainty dissolve.

"You don't have to say it, mate," Curt smiled and brought Brian into a soft kiss that started innocently enough but soon exploded with a passion that had been caged and hidden for much too long. The little audience in the bar they had forgotten about cheered. When they broke apart Curt was afraid he might die of an exploding heart. Has anyone died from loving too much? He hoped not, because if anyone did he was sure he would meet his doom on that table. But then again, it must be a wonderful way to die. Feeling excessively giddy, Curt gave the audience an exaggerated bow. Brian laughed like he used to in the old days, and, god, did it feel good to laugh again. He suddenly noticed a girl in a red jacket standing next to the table with a pen and paper in hand.

"Excuse me," she said, "aren't you Tommy Stone?"

"Tommy who?" he asked pleasantly and watched her smile fall. She mumbled a never mind and started to scurry away.

"I'm Curt Wild," Curt offered to her, but she just gave him a confused and empty gaze and continued on her away. Curt might have been disappointed but Brian was laughing that glorious rich laughter that his ears had been aching for for such a long time.

"Shall we continue somewhere more private?" Curt said hopefully, hooking his arm in Brian's.

Brian smiled.

Everyone had already gone back to ordering their drinks and talking politely so no one noticed when the two mysterious characters disappeared out the back door, like figures in a dream, the only evidence of their presence was a small makeup bag lying abandoned on the table.

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I know, I know, crazy fluffy, but it couldn't be helped. Please tell me what I did, good or bad, I don't care, any type of feedback is loved. Review for me, and I'll return the favor!