Noel and Liam going to a random party while on tour. They start bickering about nothing in particular until eventually Noel fucks off for a bit to mind his own business. They're in an unfamiliar place, miles and miles away from everything that they know; but he's not his brothers keeper. He's got his own charcuterie board of coke and tits and weed to worry about and he's sick of the needy little asshole nipping at his heels every step of the way. He ends up fancying some townie girl, snogging her out on the porch, letting her whirl him around the light post in the reflective rain wet rock of the cobblestone streets. He's on cloud-fucking-nine when suddenly there's a commotion from the house. Lots of yelling. He figures it's our kid, when isn't it? But when he goes back in; ready for the inevitable row; it's bonehead giving it to some pantsless bloke Noel's never seen before. He comes over; tries to figure out why everyone's gone suddenly mad- and finds that it is Liam, just not in the way he thought.
He turns and sees a dark room, the door swung open casting light onto the vague mound of a person on the crumpled up cotton sheets. He walks in, hands white knuckled and his eyes huge and gluttonous for some grasp of understanding. Bonehead still has the bloke by the collar of his pleated shirt, the fellas prick soft and swaying between his legs in a way that's horribly human- ugly and pink, like an animal. Bonehead tells Noel, "This fucker was puttin' it on Liam, right, thought, thought maybe it was-fuck, but nah, it wasn't, it wasn't right. He's completely out of it. You've got to do something, Noel."
Liam is completely slack there on the bed, face mushed up halfway onto the pillow and a little sliver of drool escaping the thin slit of his lips leaving a dark patch below him. His kecks are down, the flat expanse of his ass glazed in a curious glisten. Noel tries to nudge him awake, fingers trembling. He quickly attempts to pull up Liams jeans over his boxy waist but it's a pain, and still, he doesn't move.
Noel mutters wetly under his breath in disbelief.
"Kidda, wake up. Liam... Get up. Really, now I mean it. Liam. Hey, c'mon.."
The pantsless bloke is swearing, apparently having gained his bearings back.
"He wanted it, mate, fuck you-!"
"Did you drug him? You fuckin' drug him?"
"I didn't fuckin' drug him, listen, he's drunk, you're crazy-"
Noel comes over and suckers one right between his eyes; right into nose where the cartilage breaks way with a spongy sounding snap. Blood burst out in an instant; a jammy cascade of pulpy red down those ugly lips that are curling up in pain- but it isn't anything to him, it's nothing at all. Noel keeps going, he goes until somehow they've dragged each other to the streets and their bodies are twining over the wet stone like they're caught up in some kind of repugnant dance. White billows of hot breath sucked in through broken teeth, Noels knuckles are bleeding just as furiously as every other part of himself. He's pulled away in a daze, a meandering crowd of onlookers hooting and hollering at his pageantry of rage- when Boneheads back to him. They've got to help Liam.
There's a few women in the room around Liam now, brushing his sweat slicked bangs back and trying to comfort him even though he isn't awake to accept any of it. The band wraps a knitted blanket around his limp body, buttons his jeans up, starts lugging him out to the streets where they hail themselves a cab.
In the morning, it seems Liam's got no memory of the night before. He emerges from his room no less perky than usual, if not wincing a bit when he walks too heavy. A weird twinge in him he can't care to place. Probably slept wrong, maybe ate something bad that's hurting his stomach. Nothing a nice cuppa and a hot shower won't fix. Liam doesn't know why the band is giving him this odd look; like-like he's got a hole in his britches he just hasn't noticed yet and they're too embarrassed to go on and tell him about it. He keeps trying to fancy himself up in his reflection but nobody is saying owt- especially Noel; who's practically twisting up his body to be as far away from Liam as physically possible. Tapping his foot, biting his fingernails. Liam points out his busted up knuckles with an innocent air of intrigue, and Noel blanches; all the color spooled out of his face into a sickly, paling gray.
How's he supposed to look his baby brother in the eye, into those horrible, baby blues, and say 'Look, Liam, I've really got to tell you. Last night someone caught you being raped by another man'?
He slaps Liam away, suddenly mortified and furious at the thought.
Of course it all spirals into an evitable fight, how can it not. That's all they know how to do, isn't it? Burn each other alive, pour gasoline on the flesh, sear the other ones bones to blackened ash and then broil that alongside everything too. Some bastard stuck it in his little brother like a pig on a spike and of course it all lands on Noel to deal with the aftermath.
No, that isn't right- he blames him.
Because it's Liam's fault, isn't it? Acting like a God, spreading himself out into the world in one great, loud smear. Taunting dolly lashes and self-imposed immortality. Look at me, love me, play with me. Of course you got fucking raped, you idiot. What did you think? What did you think was going to happen, really?
And Liam doesn't believe him at first. Of course he doesn't. But then why did Bonehead look so awfully sad this morning, and why did Guigsy flinch from meeting his hand when they both reached out for the pepper shaker, and why did Tony refuse to meet his gaze?
Unless everybody knew except for him.
"I bet you were fuckin' gaggin' for it, kid."
He twitches away from Noel like his words can divvy up inside the parts of him that are already emptied out and ruined. And maybe Noel wants that. Wants to crawl into the wounds made by another and lick the oily drip from the hallowed out walls inside until that hurt is his too, and there's nothing left of Liams that he doesn't completely, and utterly own. If he can just fill up that part of him, add to what was taken- then maybe that shared hurt will become something other than this.
And Noel doesn't even know if it's love or hate that perpetuates this filth inside him- this need. Is it love towards his brother and a compassion he doesn't know how to express or is it hate for all that he can't have, hate that someone peeled into the soft supple plump of their bellies and gobbled them up again.
FUCK YOUR BROTHER AND YOU WILL BOTH BE CLEAN AMEN!
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