InsaneJournal

FIC: Of (an endless supply of nicotine, and) us. Curt/Brian, M
Title: Of (an endless supply of nicotine, and) us
Author: lorielen
Fandom: Velvet Goldmine
Pairing: Curt/Brian
Rating: M
Summary: The uncomplicated story of how Curt came to call Brian “glitterhead”.
Beta: The lovely vainwithglitter *squishes* Any remaining mistakes are amine.
Disclaimer: Todd Haynes’, even though I’d treat them much better.

Of (an endless supply of nicotine, and) us

It had first left his lips entirely by accident, following something singularly silly Brian did. It had unexpected annoying properties, and it was catchy. That was the uncomplicated story of how Curt came to call Brian "glitterhead". Pouting got the Brit nowhere; on the verge of despair, Brian had even tried to pretend that it didn't affect him, but it was to no avail. A teasing device at first, the endearment became frequent in a variety of situations, including post-coitus nuzzling sessions.

A few weeks later, there was one fateful afternoon when Curt affectionately declared that only his glitterhead could pull off knee-high purple boots. Everyone in the room paused, took their cue from the throbbing vein in Brian's temple and did not laugh. Curt nonchalantly ignored the glare darted at him, and braced himself for an earful.

There was comfort to be found in how well he knew Brian, Curt thought grimly when the younger man started to scold him, barely had they locked the door. He patiently sat through the first wave of his lover's diva-like distress, the grand finale of which was,

"...please, Curt. For my fragile self-esteem and peace of mind?"

Brian could load the word 'please' with such fucking infuriating condescendence, that it never failed to get under Curt's skin. He eyed Brian as the leaner of the two sat across from him, but kept his voice playful.

"What the fuck happened to 'free your heart of guilt and shame', huh?"

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose.

"My dignity, Curt. I know it may not look like much, but it's still there and you’re making it weep."

Curt rolled his eyes amusedly, but there was an edge to his voice as he spoke.

"Save it. You're not wiggling out of my cheesy affections that easily."

He smiled his best smile and raised an eyebrow teasingly. Brian actually whined, and it was then that Curt's temper flared. He got to his feet in irritation, anxiety uncurling in his chest. Damn. He had been carefully avoiding this for so long, but the words were out of his mouth before he even knew what he was saying.

"You know what? You're just scared shitless." He waited for Brian to look at him before continuing. "Because our relationship is starting to feel like more than just something Jerry thought up to sell one of your whims." Namely, himself. Christ, just thinking of it made Curt clench his hands into fists, wish to curl up in a tight ball and never let the world approach him with smiling promises ever, ever again.

There was a small and extenuating silence. Curt drank in the raw surprise until Brian croaked out a monosyllabic reply as eloquent as his features.

"What?!"

"You heard me. Shit, Brian." He ran a hand through his hair and then leaned forward, supporting his weight on his knuckles. "We have something. There's a fucking lot more to it than booking rooms with a double bed." His tone softened as he went on. "Embarrassing nicknames are part of the whole love thing."

Brian stared at him, utterly expressionless, and Curt knew then that he had hit a nerve. He forced himself to remember that Brian dwelled in a semi-magic world in which nearly all his wishes were granted. That for Brian, there was no distinguishing between want and need. Fuck, Brian used the word 'love' so freely that Curt didn’t really know what he meant when he said it.

He decided he’d better do something before Brian recovered his speech, and lunged at him to draw blood in vengeance for his wounded pride. He moved around the table and sat down, straddling the waist of his unimpressed-looking lover.

"I'm sorry, baby. It was a crude way to put it, but I'm just so sick of measuring up to what Jerry says we should be like, and it’s like you’re doing it without even noticing."

Whether it was because of his heartfelt words or his weight on Brian's groin, the blue eyes were no longer steely. Curt pressed his advantage, cupping the other man's face, his thumb caressing and smudging the rouge of a cheekbone. He lowered his voice to a husky whisper.

"Never mind. The rest of the world can go fuck themselves; as long as glitterhead and wolfboy have each other and an endless supply of cigarettes, it’s all good, eh?"

One corner of Brian's mouth lifted damn near imperceptibly, and there was no longer any tension in the set of his shoulders. Nonetheless, Curt worried still, for mirth sparkled in the blue-haired man's features.

"Almost. How come you get the manly pet name?"

Curt's chuckling subdued as he kissed Brian's cheeky smile, a silent agreement to leave the hurtful topic untouched for the moment.

"Well, it just fit. Unless you can come up with a better one, I'm keeping it."

He leaned down to nuzzle the curve of Brian's neck, purposefully distracting his lover. He had a healthy fear of Brian's sense of humour; the man'd taken a leaf from his wife's book on subtlety.

"I quite like it, actually." Brian tilted his head to one side, moaning as Curt worried his earlobe between his teeth. "Will you howl when you come inside me tonight? I'd like that."

Jesus! As if Curt weren't already throbbing with the mere scent of him. Then something occurred to the American and he pulled back to give Brian a no-nonsense look.

"Only if you promise to never make lyrics out of this."

Don’t perform us. I fucking love you, you prissy idiot. All the things Curt didn’t say but knew Brian had heard anyway. The Brit studied him for a few seconds before smiling charmingly.

"I won't." He breathed against Curt's parted lips.

- * -

*cross-posted to: velvet_goldmine and wolf_spacequeen