Magical Thinking
Title: Magical Thinking (1/2)
Pairing or Characters: Noel/Julian
Summary: Noel wakes up at an ungodly hour with a few things on his mind, but is he the only one?
Word Count: 2,361
Rating: NC-17 overall
Warnings: RPS
Disclaimer: As far as I know, Noel and Julian own themselves and are definitely not mine - the content/events here are purely fictional and a result of a fairly twisted imagination. No harm intended, the author is writing for fun and no profit.
Author's Note: a thankyou to heartrachel for feedback and kind words of encouragement along the wayPart 1
Noel shifted in the darkness. His still sleep-clouded brain processed the information it received as his hand swept over the space next to him. Firstly, the 1000 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets were absolutely worth it. He briefly wondered about an outfit made of the same material, or better yet a whole character. Best file that away. Even in the wee, still hours, if Noel was conscious he was working. Well, at least his brain was working. Sometimes he wished that he did dream at night and not just in the day. Imagine what he could do if there were eight more work hours available to him?
Eight might be pushing it these days. All of the press before the tour, taping Buzzcocks, finishing everything so he actually had a show when the tour started. Eight hours was a luxury Noel was struggling to afford.
The area of sheet closest to him was cold. Not just “lacking body warmth cool” but proper, “exposed to the air” cold. Eyes still closed, Noel’s thoughts turned, as they often did, to what exciting things might be happening just beyond his reach.
The king size bed hadn’t been his idea.
“What on Earth would we need that much space for?” he’d asked pointedly. He had then been quietly assured that he would love it once it arrived and the matter was settled.
Fine.
In truth, the most important thing for Noel when it came to his sleeping quarters had nothing to do with the accommodations. Instead, Noel prioritized his need to have someone in the bed with him. The rather vast expanse in which said person could be located now that they had a mattress the size of France? It had a tendency to give him slight panic attacks.
Noel’s hand found his phone before he located the source of natural warmth he was looking for. An image from the memory center of his brain;
“gone visiting friends. last minute, I know. back on saturday. x”
Just beyond his reach was more cold, though supple, sheet.
Fingers continued their path, over the contours of the phone, making their way to one of the innumerable pillows Noel had surrounded himself with in the night. Without a body tucked around or into him, he made do with what was available. It wasn’t the same.
His touch ghosted lightly over a pillow case, softer even than the sheets. Warmer as well, for having been closer to him. Noel inhaled, catching nothing more than his own scent in the air. Not unpleasant, but he could remember when breathing in on a night like this, even shallow breaths, would fill his nostrils with the intoxicating scent of cigarettes and whisky and light his senses on fire. A whiff of his own shampoo was boring. Most things, when held in comparison, were boring.
Noel willed his eyes open, easier now that he knew what he was going to, needing to, gaze on. He stared out through the windows that made up most of the wall opposite him, traveling over grass and cement to the house across the way. He hadn’t bothered with the curtains before climbing into bed. Noel knew full well only one person realized that they had this view and would notice if those curtains were open or closed. His eyes alighted on his target. The curtains there seemed open as well. Then again, it was 2:30am and he was feeling an increasingly desperate need that they, in fact, be open.
A little voice he generally attempted to keep at bay tickled his eardrum. He lowered the duvet from around his shoulders, pushing until it came to rest at his waist, still watching the other window.
“This is fucking ridiculous” he muttered, silently, lips never moving.
Noel suddenly felt shy, the way he did in the last few minutes before he went on stage. There was something more, or different, though. Shyness mixed with…embarrassment? That was probably it, a grown man staring into the distance hoping to will some action into happening? There was a term for that, he thought, wasn’t there? He just couldn’t recall it at the moment.
“It’s been a long time. Why would tonight be any different than last night?” he continued on, silent as ever.
“I just think it might, alright?” the voice countered.
Fine.
The flash of light in the darkness caught Noel by surprise. His eyes darted from the bare windows to the screen of the phone lying next to him. His fingers reversed their route back and deftly swept the message icon from left to right, leaving impossible words in their wake.
“I know you’re awake. I can feel those blue orbs fixed in my direction. The house is too quiet and I can’t sleep. If I’m right, neither can you. It’s been a long time.”
~~~
Soft light from the streetlamps made its way into Julian’s living room. He watched as shadows danced on the walls and floor. He imagined creatures made of white shadow that were innocent and good, but had been cursed to look as though they were made of darkness so that no one would love them. Julian did not think about the words he had just sent careening through the airwaves and he definitely did not think about what would happen next.
Deep within him, Julian still held the belief that if he thought too much about the things he wanted they would fall apart, or never come to pass at all. Years ago, after an appearance on Jonathan Ross where he’d made that known, someone had told him the proper term for such nonsense. Not that he could recall it now. It was 2:34am and he had tragic shadow creatures to focus on.
He brushed his fingers against the worn leather chair he’d dropped into after poking that bit of screen that read “send.” Memories of collapsing into the same chair, breathless and shaking, when it occupied a joint work space crept their way into his mind. Julian quickly moved his other hand back to the glass of whisky on the table next to him, dousing those thoughts before they could consume him.
It was like being lassoed by starlight, this pull he felt. Julian couldn’t explain it if he tried. Even now, nearly twenty years later, it baffled him. It made no logical sense for Julian to just know he was being watched from the bedroom across the way, but he did. At least, he was fairly sure.
Maybe someone had stitched magnets with opposite poles into their bodies. Time, distance, partners - none of it mattered to those magnets. They would tear through the fabric of time and space itself to be together. Even if one of them were strong enough to remain in place the other would come, faithfully, searching for its mate.
Nothing else would bring about an end to this tightening, aching need that was coursing through him. For a little while in the beginning he had tried to find an alternative but it was no use. Julian would eventually, and always, succumb and lose himself in the known antidote. When he’d stopped fighting it, when they both had, Julian experienced a sort of ease with himself he hadn’t realized was possible. Eyelids drooping slightly, Julian exhaled and his head fell back against the chair as he remembered the highs that antidote provided. The ache he felt in his very core intensified exponentially.
Having abandoned the glass, Julian had the bottle to his lips and tilted upwards when he felt a pulse beneath his leg. He swallowed hard and winced, simultaneously letting the pad of his thumb skate around the screen to open the message.
“there’s a lot of stars out tonight, yeah ?”
Julian’s shoes were on the sidewalk before the light on his mobile had even dimmed.
~~~
A familiar creaking sound floated up the stairs and into the bedroom. The phone dropped from Noel's hand as he cocked his ear to focus in on the symphony of sounds he knew would follow. The clunk of a deafbolt and soft thuds - one, and then another - as shoes were left in the hallway. The muffled clattering of keys being shoved back in a pocket. Noel tried not to hold his breath while he listened and counted the stairs as they were climbed. There. Just there, the sixth step groaning from the weight of anything heavier than a piece of bubblegum. Failing to correctly take Julian's stride into account, the other man reached the door a full four beats before Noel had expected. The twist of the doorknob made his heart jump.
Even though he was sitting up now, the arrangement of the bed relative to the door meant Julian was all the way in the room before he could see Noel properly. Every muscle in his body, save one, stilled as Noel came into frame.
Sometimes, on very rare occasion, when the lighting and positioning of his face and body were just right, Julian would swear Noel was in his twenties again, perched on a chair at the pub and grinning like a loon while Julian did his set. This was one of those moments, and his breathing hitched at the memory of that first night.
If Noel noticed the stutter, he didn't let on. He'd gotten up to throw on an old t-shirt and striped pyjama bottoms and then sat down on the bed to wait. His back pressed against the headboard, Noel's knees were pulled to his chest and his chin rested atop them. Arms draped around his legs and locked there by one hand around the other's arm's wrist, it was a position of submission. Despite Julian being in his bedroom at such an hour, when both men's female partners were away, regardless of feeling like he was teetering on the edge of the world, Noel still had to be sure that this was what he thought it was before he delivered the "x" he'd intentionally left out of his message. He had to be sure that, like so many things between them, where the night went from here was a decision made together. It was his partner's line, and Noel would wait patiently for it to be delivered.
*click*
As the door closed behind Julian both men's heads turned. Distracted by the figure on the bed, Julian seemed not to have realized what his hand was doing. Looking around the room now, eyes adjusting to the lack of light, he noticed odds and ends Noel had been working on. Even with an entire studio devoted to that purpose, Noel would always bring work home with him. His imagination could not, would not, be contained. Julian stepped delicately around a painting and made his way to the small couch across from the bed. Moving a sequined pillow to the side, he sat down.
It was an old dance. Noel's muscle memory kicked in and led him through the steps. Bare feet slid down the lenght of the bed while his hips shifted to allow his torso to move forward. Noel's right foot made contact with the floor first - toes, then the ball of his foor, and finally his heel. His left foot followed suit and his hips shifted again. His body faced the windows now, but his eyes hadn't left the other man in the room. Noel stood and straightened himself. Still never breaking his gaze, he padded softly across the floor until he was in front of Julian.
If he moved in the slightest, Julian knew that his knees would touch Noel's legs, but that wasn't the contact his skin was screaming for. He stared at the blue spheres above him. Christ, even in the semi-darkness he could see those azure tones, beckoning him like swimming pools or the ocean itself. Maybe it was the proximity, or that fact that his senses were heightened with anticipation - Julian was keenly aware of Noel moving his feet so they were just should width apart from one another. The younger man's balance in this moment amazed Julian. He expected one, or both, of Noel's hands to reach forward and grasp the back of the couch as he raised his knee, Eyes still locked, Julian felt Noel's folded leg come to rest against his upper thigh. Noel sensed Julian's body tensing slightly as he raised his other knee up and onto the couch.
"I'm not gonna fall" he tried to say with his eyes. "And anyway, if I did, it'd be straight into you so it's fine."
Noel felt hands on his hips, guiding him downwards until he was sitting. Staring into Julian's eyes was making him dizzy. He needed to hear it, needed Julian to say the words already. The dance was ending, would the music go on? His own hands drifted upwards and settled on Julian's shoulders as he leaned forward. His forehead came to rest on Julian's and as he inhaled the faint air of whisky and cigarettes settled on his tongue and in his lungs. He couldn't keep his eyes open any longer.
"Please" he silently begged with every cell in his body.
Julian watched his own fingertips as they rubbed a small circle through the pyjama pants over Noel's hip where the tattoo was. Small and done in white ink on his pale skin, it took a trained eye or insider information to know it was there. Julian had both. Noel felt Julian's head tilt slighty as he moved his mouth so that it better aligned with Noel's right ear.
"But in my eye no star like thee" he breathed in a barely audible whisper.
A whimper escaped Noel's lips before they found Julian's. The restraint he had exercised so far was gone now those words had been spoken. The two men drank each other in as though they were wanderers lost in the desert, dehydrated and desperate for water. Teeth clashed and nosed bumped until they found their rhythm, forceful kisses then morphing into gentle pecks. It would be all over before it started if they didn't slow down.