Archive of Our Own

September 1995 

Dull, throbbing pain in the temple made Damon stir in his bed. He tried to open his eyes, but the eyelids felt too heavy. Damon made a conscious effort to pry them open and was almost blinded by the brightness of colours around him. 

After a few blinks his eyesight almost returned to normal. In front of him there was an ugly neon pink wall, decorated with red hearts and fat baby angels. Damon moaned and hid his face in the pillow. 

The events of last night slowly took shape in his head. Blur were on yet another American tour, once again trying to appeal to the public that didn't give a flying fuck about their music. This time however there was more excitement around their arrival, undoubtedly caused by the whole Battle of Britpop nonsense. The echoes of the conflict reached far beyond Britain, and Damon wasn't sure how to feel about it.

There were some crafty people eager to cash in on the hype, like that Las Vegas businessman who paid a shocking amount of money to have both Blur and Oasis perform in his club on the same night. Damon had to admit that his plan worked, because yesterday that club was packed to the brim. Many expected a heated argument or even a fight to break out, but things between bands were surprisingly civil. Of course they exchanged barbs backstage, but everyone agreed to hit the local bars together after the show. That was the last thing Damon remembered, himself in a bar with a drink in one hand, his other arm slung over someone's shoulders.

Another pang of pain made Damon open his eyes. He slowly turned his head around, his eyes once again assaulted by the neon pink. That was most certainly not his hotel room. How on earth did he even get here?

Something stirred behind him and Damon suddenly was aware that he wasn't alone in the bed. He looked down and noticed two very interesting things. First, there was someone's arm around his waist, a strong, masculine arm with stubby fingers that looked weirdly familiar. Second, he was completely, absolutely naked.

Strange sense of guilt and disappointment took over Damon. Getting wasted and hooking up with strangers, both women and men, was nothing new to him, but he usually remembered at least something about his partners the morning after. This time his mind was pristinely blank.Damon carefully turned his head to take a look at the person behind him.

There, on silky pink sheets, tightly hugging his waist, was none other than Liam Gallagher himself. He was soundly asleep, his breath slow and even, his dark hair strewn all across the frilly pillow. Damon felt his lips stretch in a smile. That was much better than what he had expected.

Damon couldn't recall when exactly did he get a not-so-small crush on Liam. At first he was mildly amused and irritated by this strange Manc kid who entered every room like he owned it and hurled insults at anyone who looked at him the wrong way. Later this amusement turned into admiration, of course Liam was cocky, blunt and rude, but he was also open and sincere, without pretense that permeated everything in music industry. He was more real and honest than anyone Damon knew, and he couldn't help but be charmed by it. Not to mention that Liam was really good-looking, with bright blue eyes and pretty full lips. Damon too often found himself admiring him from afar.

Damon let out a dreamy sigh. He kept his feelings close to his chest, not sure if Liam was even interested in blokes like that. Now it was apparent that he was, so maybe that could be a start of something good. Of course a drunken shag wasn't the most perfect beginning of a relationship, but Damon was sure that they could make it work.

Scratch in the throat interrupted Damon's romantic thoughts. He desperately needed a drink, his mouth felt drier than the desert around Vegas. Damon reluctantly got out of Liam's surprisingly tight grip and got up on his shaky legs. On the other side of the room there was an ugly table with curved legs, a terrible copy of baroque furniture. Thankfully Damon wasn't really interested in the table's aesthetic merits, he was drawn to the bottle of water that stood on it.

After a few steps Damon leaned on the table, breathing heavily like he had just ran an entire marathon. He silently swore to stop drinking so much, a promise he knew he wouldn't be able to keep. Damon opened the bottle and drank half of it in a few greedy gulps. Cold water went down his throat, instantly making him feel a little better.

Damon was about to put the bottle back when he saw a piece of paper laying on the table. Intrigued, he picked it up. The text was rather short and simple, but it took a few re-reads for its meaning to sink in. It said that as of yesterday Damon Albarn and William J. P. Gallagher were joined in lawful wedlock with their mutual consent.

Damon closed his eyes and shook his head. No, this couldn't be real, it must've been some sort of a prank, like those joke money they sell in party stores. He scrutinized every inch of the paper, trying to find any sign of forgery, to no avail. The certificate appeared to be one hundred percent real.

Another wave of headache mercilessly attacked Damon. He moaned quietly and massaged his temples, hoping to send it away. How could this have happened? He had done a lot of stupid stuff while drunk, even got jailed once, but this was on another level of idiocy. Damon was rather sceptical of the whole institute of marriage, but apparently it flew out of the window when he got wasted enough. How could he drag Liam into this mess?

A low grumbling sound echoed from the other side of the room. Liam's hand was patting the side of the bed where Damon layed a few minutes ago. Having found nothing, Liam sat up and rubbed his eyes.

Panic took a hold of Damon's mind. He frantically searched for a place to hide the paper, but the stupid table had no drawers. Liam opened his eyes and looked straight at Damon, who suddenly became very aware of his nudity.

- G'mornin', - Liam's voice was low and raspy from sleep, but the smile on his face was bright and sincere.

- It's already good afternoon, I think, - Damon couldn't help but smile back.

Liam hummed something and got out of bed. He was just as naked as Damon, but it didn't seem to bother him. He stopped about a step away from Damon and took a very long look up and down his body.

- That's one nice view, – he smiled once again, without a hint of shame in his eyes or voice.

Damon felt the blood rush to his cheeks. The paper started to rustle precariously in his tight grip.

- Watcha got here? – Liam took the certificate from his hands.

Damon watched helplessly as Liam read the paper, his expression going from confused to surprised to something else he couldn't decipher.

- Wow, - he scratched the back of his head. – I don't remember that at all.

Liam didn't sound angry or disgusted, which eased a bit of tension in Damon's shoulders. He watched the sunlight fall on Liam's messy hair, making them look like a halo. The puzzled expression on his face made him seem painfully young. Damon sighed and closed his eyes. No, he couldn't trap Liam like that, he deserved to get married by choice, not by a drunken mistake.

- Yeah, neither do I. Don't worry about it, we can go annul it any time, - Damon tried to sound calm and casual, but his voice trembled a little.

For a brief, fleeting moment something changed in Liam's expression. The twinkle in his eyes dimmed and corners of his mouth went down, but in a split second everything returned to normal.

- Yeah, sure, we can, - Liam's voice sounded dull. His eyes darted across the room, as if trying to avoid Damon's.

- Wait, what time is it? – his gaze fell on Damon's watch that somehow stayed on his wrist even after an eventful night.

- 14:47, - Damon squinted, his vision still a bit blurry.

- Fucking hell! We're supposed to meet by the bus in ten minutes, Noel'll kill me if I'm late! – Liam rushed to the pile of clothes on the floor.

They spent the next few minutes awkwardly shuffling through that pile, trying to identify which clothes belonged to whom. Liam hastily put his clothes on, not even trying to appear put together. His hand was almost on the tacky glided doorknob when Damon called him.

- Wait! When are we going to deal with it? – Damon picked up the certificate and shook it in the air.

- Fuck, - Liam cursed softly and patted his pockets. He took a small notepad and a pen out of one of them and quickly scribbled something.

- Here, that's me number. Ya can call me when we'll be back in London, alright? We'll figure something out by then, - he tore one page out and handed it to Damon.

Damon nodded automatically.

- Alright, bye! – with these words Liam left the room.

- Bye! – Damon waved at him, but the door was already closed.

Damon threw both papers on the table and fell backwards on the bed. On the light blue ceiling right above him there was yet another baby angel, much larger than the ones on the walls. Damon had only just noticed a golden bow and arrow in his hands.

It wasn't an angel after all, it was a cupid.

Damon moaned and hid his face in his hands. He was completely screwed.

October 1995

Light bulb above the counter flickered as Liam finished his beer. He looked at the poor old thing with a strange sense of sympathy. It seemed like he wasn't the only one at the end of the rope.

Liam was never prone to melancholy or pondering his feelings too much, but lately his life felt like one big, sad joke. It was like he found some monkey's paw that fulfilled his every wish, but put some twisted spin on it. He became a real rock'n'roll star, the frontman of the best band in the entire world, but now he couldn't get away from his annoying, controlling cunt of a brother who happened to be in the same band. He got to shag the man of his dreams, but he didn't remember a single thing about that night. He even married that man, who made it very clear that he wanted nothing to do with Liam.

His huge, stupid crush on Damon Albarn began years ago, on that rainy night Liam first saw him on stage. He knew very well that his feelings were doomed, that pretty posh southern boy would never even look at him twice, but he still couldn't help himself. Liam tried hard to catch every single Blur appearance on radio and TV, even though he didn't like their music at all, just to see Damon again.

Later, when they were actually introduced to each other after Blur concert in Manchester, he was super nervous, like a teen on his first date. Unfortunately Damon picked up on it and joked about Liam being star-struck. Of course Liam couldn't leave it like this, so he called Blur music shite. Surprisingly enough Damon laughed, and so was born their so-called rivalry.

They spent over a year like this, not really enemies, not quite friends, locked in this never ending game of trying to best each other in everything. This strange dance of egos wasn't what he really wanted, but it was real and exciting. And of course Liam had to slip up and ruin even that. Every day since that night in Vegas he wondered how did he even get Damon to sleep with him. Maybe his drunk self spoke as smooth as Cicero or some other clever dead cunt.

Even the briefest memory of Vegas made Liam feel guilty. He lied about being late for the bus, the band was supposed to board it a whole hour later. He just panicked when he saw that damn certificate and ran away like an absolute coward. It was very wrong to keep Damon chained to him like that, but a part of Liam desperately clinged to that illusion of them being together, no matter how pathetic it was.

He tried his hardest to avoid the divorce talk even when both bands got back to London, making up excuses why he couldn't meet Damon. Thankfully Damon was also quite busy, so they've spent almost a month being married, but it would end today. They were supposed to meet up here, in this shitty pub, go to the register office together and apply for the marriage dissolution. Liam sighed and ordered another beer. He got married drunk, it was only fitting to get wasted before divorcing.

The front door opened and Damon entered the pub. The room instantly became brighter, as if he brought some daylight to this dark, smoky place. Liam wondered if he was the only one who saw it.

- Sorry for making you wait, - Damon plopped on the seat next to Liam.

He breathed heavily and his cheeks were pink from running, making Liam's heart sink even further. Was Damon really in such a rush to get rid of him?

- Don't worry. Are we headin' out now? - Liam grumbled, staring at the bottom of his glass.

- Actually, there's something I wanted to show you, - Damon reached somewhere underneath his coat and got out a neatly folded newspaper.

Liam watched him spread the newspaper out on the counter. One article was encircled by a bright yellow highlighter.

- Financial Times? – Liam read the title of the newspaper. - Is that what ya read in yer spare time?

- It's not mine, I nicked it from Dave, – Damon replied defensively.

- Look here, - he continued, pointing at the highlighted article.

- Revisions in tax allowances? – Liam threw a puzzled look at Damon. To him, taxes were about as interesting as drying paint.

- Yeah, look here: «Couples married before October 1st this year may apply for a tax allowance if both spouses are below the age of thirty-five». We're eligible for this! If we stay married til the end of the year, of course, - the last sentence was a bit quieter than the previous ones.

Liam started intently at the letters and numbers on the page, as if they could answer all the questions that were swarming inside his mind. Damon wanted them to stay married, but not for the reasons Liam would prefer. It was clearly a business proposition, not a romantic one. Liam frowned. No, he wanted this marriage to be a real thing, not some clever financial scheme. He should refuse and go on with the divorce, it would be more honest.

- Look at this graph, if we submit that form before the end of the month we can save up to... – Damon continued, oblivious to Liam's inner turmoil.

- Yeah, I agree, - Liam interrupted abruptly.

Damon looked at him in confusion.

- To the tax thing and to the marriage thing. This stuff, it makes sense, right? Savin' money and all that, – Liam rambled, gesturing at the newspaper.

He knew next to nothing about taxes and couldn't be arsed to learn more, but he was more than eager to keep this proximity to Damon, however flimsy it was. Maybe, just maybe, he could make Damon fall in love with him for real if he tried hard enough.

- Are you sure? Won't this be an inconvenience to you? – Damon frowned a little.

- 'M not seein' anyone at the moment if that's what's ya talkin' about, - Liam looked right in Damon's eyes.

- Oh, that's great! - Damon's wide grin easily outshined the poor lightbulb.

Liam had no idea that he was so passionate about taxes.

- Let's celebrate our non-divorce then, - Liam tapped his fingers on his glass.

- Only if you're paying. You still owe me for that hideous room in Vegas, remember? – Damon laughed brightly, his posture instantly becoming more relaxed.

Liam smiled for the first time this evening. Nevermind paying for the drinks, he would buy Damon the fucking Buckingham Palace if it made him laugh like this.

November 1995

A cloud of cigarette smoke left Damon's lips, dissolving in cold London air. Damon leaned on the stone wall, feeling its coldness even through the thick coat. He threw a glance on his wristwatch and frowned. Liam was really taking his time today. They had a lot of plans for the evening and being late could fuck them up.

They began to hang out together more after their failed divorce. Before it Damon spent days avoiding Liam, desperately trying to find a good reason for them to stay married. That tax thing was a literal last minute blessing, a nice, plausible reason to prolong the marriage that didn't scream desperation. He really couldn't thank Dave enough for bringing that paper to their studio. He still couldn't quite believe that Liam actually agreed to it, but he did, and the past weeks were absolutely wonderful. Damon was seeing Liam almost every day or talking to him on the phone when their schedules were too packed. They walked the streets of London, drank in pubs or just sat on benches in parks, sharing cigarettes and secrets.

Spending time with Liam was surprisingly, shockingly easy for Damon. Sometimes it felt like they had known each for years, and it was exciting and scary at the same time. Liam felt like a breath of fresh air in his life, and Damon wasn't willing to give it up, no matter how wrong it was.

A very familiar figure appeared in the alley, instantly making Damon smile. Liam was approaching him fast, his shoulders hunched forward, his steps wider than usual. Damon noticed one suitcase slung over his shoulder and another one rolling on the pavement behind him.

- Hi! – Damon waved at Liam, getting only a curt nod back.

- Fuckin' shite-eating wanker! Useless cockney cunt! – Liam hissed, throwing both suitcases on the ground.

- Excuse me? – the cigarette almost fell out of Damon's mouth.

- Me landlord, that is. He evicted me, - Liam got a cigarette out of his pocket.

- How, what happened? – Damon automatically brought his lighter to Liam's cigarette.

- That greedy cunt almost doubled the rent. I told him that he should fix the fuckin' kitchen faucet before even thinkin' about raising it so much, and he had the nerve to say that I broke it! – Liam gesticulated wildly, lit cigarette dangling dangerously between his fingers.

- And? – Damon nodded in sympathy. Liam told him a lot about his tumultuous relationship with the landlord.

- He said that I must pay extra to get the faucet fixed and I told him to shove it up his arse, and now I'm here, - Liam took the first drag.

- Wow, that sucks. I'm sorry, - Damon carefully patted his shoulder.

- Don't be, the flat was shite anyway, - Liam smiled briefly, but his eyes remained serious.

- So, what next? Are you gonna stay with Noel?

- Fuck no, I already see enough of him every day, we'd kill each other if we lived together. Nah, I'll find some other place. It's London, there are hotels and inns at every fuckin' corner here, - Liam exhaled a cloud of smoke.

Damon's tongue reacted faster than his mind.

- You can stay with me if you want to, - he immediately bit the inside of his cheek after saying that.

Liam inhaled sharply, letting too much smoke enter his lungs. He coughed raspily, almost bending in half. Damon patted his back, feeling guilty and embarrassed. What was he even thinking about, ambushing Liam like that?

- D'ya mean it? – Liam wheezed, finally letting all the smoke out.

- Yeah, the rent's been terrible lately, I was looking for a roommate anyway, - Damon said quickly, avoiding looking in Liam's eyes.

It wasn't even completely a lie, he thought about getting a roommate a few times, but never really bothered to reach out to anyone.

- That's … nice, very nice, thank ya. I mean, it won't be there too long, I'd get outta yer hair when I find a new place, - Liam's voice was strangely quiet.

- You can stay as long as you want, - Damon's tongue once again overtook his mind.

Liam didn't respond, but his wide smile made Damon feel a little warmer.

                                       ~

They spent the best part of the evening trying to find space for Liam's stuff in Damon's flat, so it took them too much time to realise that something was wrong.

- Damn, it's chilly here, - Liam shivered as he was putting his toothbrush next to Damon's. – Can ya close the windows?

Every single window in the flat was firmly closed. Damon touched the radiator, which turned out to be ice cold. He looked at the clock on the wall and swore quietly. It was late already, there was no point in calling the heating company. Damon sighed and opened the closet to search for his last hope for a warm night.

- Whatcha doin'? – Liam exited the bathroom, breathing at his freezing fingers.

- The heating doesn't work and no one will be here to fix it till tomorrow, so I'm looking for... ah, here it is! – Damon took out an old space heater.

The initial wave of excitement died as soon as he looked at the switch near the bottom of the heater. It was broken, Damon meant to have it fixed last winter, but completely forgot about it.

- It's broken, we're fucked, - he moaned, running his fingers through his hair.

It was a disaster, a complete failure. He wanted to help Liam, but all he had to offer now was a flat that was getting colder and colder every minute.

- Lemme take a look, - Liam crouched over the heater. – It's just jammed, I think. D'ya have any tools?

Damon nodded in surprise and got out a tool kit that had never been used before. A few minutes later the heater was up and running, radiating the long awaited warmth.

- Wow, didn't know you could do that, - Damon looked at Liam in astonishment.

- It's nothing, we often had to repair stuff back at home, - Liam smiled proudly.

- Thanks, - Damon mumbled, hoping that he didn't look too flustered.

Having Liam fix something for him was strange, but very nice. It almost felt like they were a real family, solving their problems together. Damon had never gotten to this stage with any of his partners, and it excited and scared him.

- Yeah, ya would freeze to death without me here, posh boy, - Liam laughed with the mischievous glint in his eyes.

This was a familiar territory, their usual game of banter Damon had no intention to lose.

- Oh, how can I thank you, my guardian angel? – he said in a dramatic tone, throwing his arm around Liam's shoulders.

He expected Liam to laugh, to reply with some witty quip, but it didn't happen. Instead he stared into Damon's eyes seriously, almost solemnly. His lips moved a little, as if he wanted to say something, but no sound came out. They were so close Damon could feel Liam's warm breath on his skin. He closed his eyes, waiting for something to happen.

- It's time to go to bed, I'm knackered, - Liam moved away from Damon, leaving only a ghost of his breath between them.

- Yeah, sure, the bed is all yours, - Damon said, trying to hide his disappointment.

Of course Liam didn't want to kiss him, he was just imagining things.

- Isn't it yer bed? – Liam tilted his head a little.

- It will be yours for the night, I'll sleep on the couch, - Damon tried to leave, but cold fingers caught his arm.

- Like fuck ya will! Ye've got no other heater, yer living room'll turn into a fuckin' fridge overnight, - Liam firmly squeezed his wrist.

Damon bit his lip. Liam was right, he didn't fancy spending the night in a freezing room, but making Liam do it would be terribly rude.

- We can share the bed, y'know. It'll be warmer that way, - Liam's voice was strangely soft and quiet, not like him at all.

Breath hitched in Damon's throat. He thought that he misheard the words, but Liam's attentive gaze suggested that it wasn't the case. Liam's words were real and sober, not a hallucination, not an alcohol-fueled mistake.

Damon exhaled, trying to calm down his rapidly beating heart. Liam was just being rational and sensible, sleeping together was really the best way to preserve heat, there was nothing romantic whatsoever about this.

- Yeah, great idea, it makes sense, - Damon replied, sounding unnaturally chipper.

Later, after an honest attempt to brush his teeth and take a shower with ice cold water, Damon awkwardly stood beside the bed in his pyjamas and warm socks. Even with the heater working the room was still quite chilly.

- Everythin' alright? – Liam peeked from the pile of blankets and covers on the bed.

- Yeah, - Damon nodded absent-mindedly. He couldn't understand why did he feel so weird right now.

He already had sex with Liam once, so sleeping next to him fully clothed shouldn't be a problem at all.

- C'mere, - Liam beckoned him and Damon couldn't resist, crawling into the bed beside him.

He used to imagine this moment very differently, certainly without warm socks, ideally without any clothes at all, but he really couldn't complain too much.

- G'night, - Liam mumbled, his eyes already half-closed.

He put his arm around Damon's waist casually, like it was the most normal thing for him to do. The image of that morning in Vegas turned up in Damon's head, instantly making him feel a little warmer. The awkwardness disappeared, like it was never even here.

- Good night, - he whispered in Liam's ear. He could really get used to falling asleep like this.

December 1995

- And then I wake up, and there's snow everywhere, can you believe it? - Damon's voice on the other end of the phone line sounded almost giddy with excitement.

- So much snow overnight? No way, yer pullin' me leg, - Liam snorted into the phone.

He was back in Burnage for Christmas, happy to finally have a few days of rest. Damon went to Colchester to spend time with his parents, and Liam was totally, absolutely fine with it. There was no reason for them to spend Christmas together, they weren't a real family after all, even if Liam wished they were.

- No, I'm telling you, it's really pretty, like a Christmas postcard! – Damon exclaimed defensively.

- Won't believe it 'til I see it. Take a photo or it didn't happen. -

I don't have a camera! - Then yer a big fat liar! – Liam smiled. Teasing Damon was just too much fun.

- You know what? Now I'll borrow one and take a million photos just to rub them in your face! – Damon didn't sound mad despite his harsh words.

- Alright, go on then, - Liam still couldn't stop smiling.

- I wish you were here, - Damon's words surprised Liam. – I mean, you're better with photography than me, I bet you'd take really nice pictures, - he added hastily.

- Damon Albarn recognizing that someone's better than him, never thought I'd see this day, - Liam's playful tone concealed the warmth he felt. He was glad to know that Damon missed him even a little.

- Oi, shut up! – Damon laughed on the other end of the line.

Liam joined him in laughter. He missed Damon much more than he wanted to admit. He feared that living together would be awkward, but it was surprisingly peaceful. Damon cooked very well, didn't have too many annoying habits and had a truly impressive stash of liquor, and it was everything Liam could've wished for.

Liam especially loved those quiet evenings when neither of them was busy. Usually they'd make a dinner together or get a take-out and rent an old film, or just put on some record and chat about everything and nothing in particular. Sometimes Damon would play the piano, usually some classical piece Liam pretended to recognise. These evenings were warm and peaceful, like tiny islands of serenity in their crazy lives.

The only problem Liam had unfortunately arose every morning. The heating was fixed a long time ago, but neither of them wanted to move to Damon's old squeaky couch, so they just kept sleeping in the same bed. Waking up next to Damon and not being able to touch him the way Liam wanted was the sweetest torture imaginable. He really hoped that Damon didn't take notice of his long morning showers.

Someone's voice called out Damon's name on the other end of the line.

- Sorry, I've got to go now, I'll call you later, bye! – Damon said hastily.

- Bye, All-Bran, - Liam intentionally mispronounced Damon's surname just to elicit one last laugh from him.

The call ended, leaving Liam feeling warm and content. He went down the hall to the living room, humming a whimsical tune under his breath. In the living room his Mam and Noel drank tea with biscuits and watched TV.

- Ya talked so long yer cup has gone cold, - Mam said with a hint of disappointment in her voice.

- Don't worry, I'll drink it like this, - Liam took a seat on the sofa next to her.

- Yer spending a lot of time on the phone these days, is someone special calling? - Peggy's question took Liam by surprise.

- Nah, it's probably just his fake husband, - Noel chimed in, his eyes fixed on the TV.

- Shut up! – Liam hissed at him. He never told mam about his situation with Damon, and Noel knew it very well.

- What, is it not true? Have ya moved outta his place yet? Or are ya with him for real now? – every question felt like a nail hammered in Liam's coffin.

Anger made Liam's blood boil. He confided in his brother once and all he got was a stab in the back. Noel always turned into an insufferable grump around holidays, but it didn't give him the right to make everyone around him miserable.

With a loud war cry Liam hit the back of Noel's head with a sofa pillow. Noel took another pillow and smashed him in the face, feathers flying all across the room.

- Stop it right now, both of you! – Peggy yelled.

Liam and Noel put the pillows down, but it didn't stop them from glaring daggers at each other.

- Noel, why don't you go to the store? We're out of milk, I believe, - mam's tone left no room for objections.

Noel reluctantly got up and shook his head to get feathers out of his hair.

- Stop lyin', at least to yerself, - with these words he left the room, leaving Liam alone with Peggy.

Liam gulped heavily, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. His mam was the sweetest, kindest person he had ever known, but she was also very religious. She knew that Liam was attracted to men, but she probably never thought that he'd get married to one while blackout drunk. What if she wouldn't approve of it?

- Fake husband? Is it true? – she didn't sound angry, which gave Liam a little courage.

He sighed, looking everywhere but at her. Liam felt the same guilt and shame he felt years ago when he broke mam's favorite tea cup and tried to pin it on Noel. There was no point in lying to her, not then, not now, so he just told her everything as it was, from Vegas to present day.

- Are ya mad at me? – he asked at the end, surprised by how childish it sounded.

- What? No, of course not! I just wish ya told me everything earlier. I barely see ya these days, I wanna know what's going on in yer life, - she took Liam's hand in hers.

Liam felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off his chest.

- There's nothing to tell here, it's not even a real marriage. He doesn't like me like that.

- I wouldn't be so sure about that. If he didn't like ya, why would he call every day?

- Cuz we're mates, - Liam replied weakly.

- And ya wanna be more than that? – there was no judgement in Peggy's eyes, only interest and understanding.

Liam nodded.

- Then tell him! Liam just scoffed. If he confessed to Damon, he would surely be kicked out of the flat and they would never talk again. What they had now wasn't quite what Liam wanted, but losing it would still hurt like hell.

- Don't be shy, I'm sure he won't reject such a handsome boy! – mam wildly misinterpreted his reaction.

- Mam, stop it! – Liam felt the blood rush to his cheeks.

- Just be a little braver and everything will be fine. I think he likes you, didn't he want to share some award with ya?

Liam remembered that day very well. It was Brit Awards and Blur sweeped four of them, leaving only one for Oasis. Damon looked annoyingly beautiful that day, singing about shagging girls and boys, dangling the stupid awards from the stage. Liam was so pissed off at him that he took his words as mockery, but what if they were sincere? He had no answer to this question.

- Yeah, he did, - Liam replied pensively.

- That's what I'm talking about! Yer Damon looks like a very nice boy, though he's terribly thin. Are ya not feeding him at all? – Peggy gave him a judgemental look.

- What? No, he cooks for both of us really well. Not as good as ya, of course, - Liam hastily added the last sentence.

- Do they even have any decent food in London? Bring him here the next time, I'll teach him to make a proper shepherd's pie.

Liam was out of words, maybe for the first time in his life. The image of Damon here in Burnage, chatting with his mam and learning her recipes, was too warm and sweet to be true.

- I'll try, - that was all he could say.

- Of course ya will. I won't let you two go hungry, - Peggy smiled so warmly it made Liam's eyes go wet.

He leaned forward and hugged her, burying his face in her shoulder.

- Here, here, - she patted his back. – Everything will be fine, just ya wait.

Liam didn't know how much time did they spent like this before Noel appeared.

- Milk's in the fridge, - he entered the room, tossing a pack of cigarettes Liam's way.

These were his favourite ones, which in Noel's language meant an apology or something close to that. Any other time Liam would tell him to fuck off, but right now he was in such a hopeful mood he let it slide. If mam was right and he had even the smallest chance with Damon, he would do his damnedest to use it.

January 1996

Top of the Pops backstage was, as usual, a loud, chaotic mess, full of people running back and forth looking for someone or something. Damon leaned on the back of his chair, lazily looking at all the hustle and bustle through the half-open door of the dressing room. His bandmates sat beside him, lively chatting with Oasis fellas.

Lately the relationship between two bands was surprisingly peaceful, almost friendly. Damon didn't know what was the reason for this unexpected truce, but he was nonetheless glad.

Across from him Liam was pacing from one corner to another, like he always did when he was nervous. Damon came up to him, hoping to calm him down.

- Everything fine? – he asked, finally making Liam stop.

- Yeah, yeah, great, - Liam stopped, but there still was clear tension in his posture.

Damon frowned. That wouldn't cut it, he had to do something to lighten the mood.

- Chill out, it's not even a live performance. Is standing next to a mic and opening your mouth that hard? – Damon said tauntingly.

- Speak for yerself, I'm gonna show off my piano skills tonight! – Liam said proudly.

- Piano skills? I'm dying to see that! – Damon laughed.

- I bet yer gonna love it, - Liam said in a low voice that never failed to send goosebumps down Damon's spine.

Damon looked away from Liam's eyes, noticing an eyelash fall on his cheek.

- Wait, there's something on your face, I'm gonna get it for you, - Damon swiped it away with his thumb.

Liam didn't say anything, instead he caught Damon's hand in his and pressed a light kiss to his fingers. Damon's heart skipped a beat. Lately Liam had been more affectionate with him, and he didn't know what to make of it. It was probably nothing, just a sweet, completely platonic gesture, but it still made Damon's mind run wild, imagining things he absolutely shouldn't even think about.

The room fell eerily silent. Damon turned his head to see that eyes of all their bandmates were on them.

- What? – Liam said defensively, tightening his grip on Damon's hand.

- Nothin', - Noel said, grinning widely and stretching out his hand.

Damon shivered. Happy Noel somehow looked much more unsettling than the usual grumpy one.

Noel dangled his hand in the air. Graham and Alex, both looking like they just ate a lemon, handed him a hundred quid each.

- That's alright, - Noel put the money in his pocket. - Let's go, we've gotta be on stage soon.

Liam didn't move, still holding Damon's hand.

- C'mon, Romeo, you'll see yer Juliet later, - with these words Noel dragged Liam away.

The rest of Oasis got up and left, laughing at Noel's stupid joke.

- Idiots, - Damon scoffed.-  What's going on, did you owe him money? – he asked Graham and Alex.

- They lost him money, to be precise, - Dave answered instead of them.

- More like you lost us money, - Alex glared at Damon accusingly.

- What? – Damon had never been more confused.

- You just had to canoodle with Liam, didn't you? If you managed to keep your hands off each other just a little longer I would've won, not that prick.

- What are you talking about, we weren't canoodling... wait, you were betting on us?! – realization hit Damon like a ton of bricks.

He took a close look at his friends. Not a single muscle moved on Dave's face while Alex's split into a grin. At least Graham had the decency to look somewhat sheepish.

- What the hell is wrong with you? – Damon asked exasperatedly.

- It's not just us, Oasis guys are in, too, - Graham said quietly.

- Oh thanks, it makes everything so much better! – Damon crossed his arms in front of his chest. – Why did you even agree to this, you know very well that there's nothing between us?!

- Yeah, sure, that's why you're living together, - Alex scoffed.

- It's actually a very sensible arrangement, I explained it to you a million times!

- Ah, of course. Does your sensible arrangement include sleeping together? – Alex looked right in Damon's eyes.

- That's none of your business! – Damon yelled louder than he intended to.

- So it is true. I should offer Noel a new bet, maybe I'll win this time!

Damon flipped a bird at Alex. He was a lost cause anyway, there was no use talking to him. Damon looked at Graham, hoping to find some understanding. -

This is the most ridiculous I've ever seen you act, - Graham didn't mince the words.

- It can't be so, you've known me since I was a teen, - Damon huffed in disbelief.

- Yeah, exactly, - the look on Graham's face didn't promise anything good for Damon. – You melt into a puddle the second you see Liam, it's fucking pathetic. And he's not any better.

- You're taking the piss. Anything to justify your stupid bet. Me and Liam are just mates, nothing more.

- How's that divorce going then? Wasn't it supposed to be this month? The clock is ticking, – Graham crossed his arms, mirroring Damon's pose.

- We're working on it, - Damon looked away.

They did plan to divorce soon, but something always came up. At first their schedules were just incompatible, then Liam got sick, then Damon had a headache which he may or may not have exaggerated just a little, then the weather was just too terrible to go outside. Almost none of it was his fault.

- When, between snogging and staring into each other's eyes? Quit this bullshit, Damon, you two are in love.

- We aren't snogging! - You were just five minutes ago, - Alex remarked.

Damon didn't want to dignify him with response. If he and Graham wanted to behave like immature idiots, Damon would just let them embarrass themselves.

- No, we weren't. I was helping Liam and he was just... grateful. It's perfectly normal behaviour, - Damon said as confidently as he could.

He shot a pleading look at Dave. He was the oldest, the most reasonable of them, he would surely understand Damon's plight.

- Yes, it is. For people who love each other, - Dave's words sounded as final as a death sentence.

The room once again fell completely silent.

- I need some air, - with these words Damon stormed out of the room without looking back.

He paced down the hall, not really caring where he was going. He didn't know what was going on with his friends, what on earth caused them to revert to such idiotic childish behaviour. They were supposed to be on his side, not to ruin his mood mere minutes before the performance.

Damon stopped by some door, leaning his forehead on the cold wall. His friends weren't completely wrong, no matter how angry he was at them. He was in love with Liam, and this feeling only grew stronger with each day they spent together. Damon was almost one hundred percent certain that it wasn't mutual, but there was this tiny sliver of hope that made everything even more torturous.

Somewhere behind the door he could hear loud cheers of the crowd. Damon closed his eyes, trying to remember the layout of the studio. If he was right, behind this door was the small corridor that led right to the dancefloor. He opened the door and went there, beckoned by the crowd yelling and cheering for Oasis.

The band was already on the stage, dutifuly pretending to play the first notes of Don't Look Back In Anger. It wasn't a bad tune, even though Damon vastly preferred ones sung by Liam. He had no part in this song, but he was nevertheless on the stage, sitting behind the piano. With a completely serious expression Liam pretended to play the instrument, making absolutely nonsensical movements like a child that had seen the piano for the first time in his life.

Damon couldn't help but smile at this ridiculous display. That was one way of mocking the phoney show that only someone with Liam's charm and confidence could pull off.

Suddenly Liam turned his head, as if he sensed Damon's presence. He smiled widely and winked at Damon, before returning to «playing». Damon returned the smile, instantly feeling warmer. It was amazing how Liam always managed to lift him up when he wasn't feeling well.

Damon sighed and looked away from the stage. That was exactly why he had to put an end to this fake marriage. He felt like a thief, basking in Liam's attention and care when he had no right to do so. Liam deserved to find his love, someone who would make him happy, and it clearly wasn't Damon. He turned and went back into the corridor, leaving the extatic crowd behind.

February 1996

Liam opened his eyes and squinted, trying to adjust to dim morning light. Next to him Damon was still asleep, with his adorable mouth slightly open. Liam fought the urge to kiss it, as he did every day for the past few months, and carefully got out of bed. He quietly went up to the door and opened it, throwing a cautious glance at Damon. He didn't appear to be disturbed by Liam's absence in any way, still sleeping soundly. Liam got out of the room and carefully closed the door. The first step of his plan was executed perfectly.

Liam wasn't very proud of this plan, but unfortunately it was the best thing he managed to come up with. He did his damnedest to come up with various excuses to not get divorced, but eventually he ran out of them. They agreed to go to the court today, on February 14th. The irony wasn't lost on Liam, but he was in no mood to ponder it right now. It was time for action, not for empty musings.

Liam entered the living room and approached the big old cupboard. His plan, when broken down, was rather simple:

1. Get up early without awaking Damon

2. Find the marriage certificate

3. Hide it so they can't go to the court today.

It wasn't the most fair or mature thing to do, but it was Liam's last resort. If he managed to postpone the divorce even just a few weeks, maybe this time would be enough to make Damon fall for him. Maybe Liam was just projecting his own feelings on him, but lately it really felt like Damon was warming up to him a little, with all the long looks and lingering touches they shared. All he needed was just a little more time.

Liam opened the creaky cupboard door without making too much noise. That meant that the most difficult part of his plan was over, it must be a smooth sailing from now. Fortunately there was a perfect place to hide the certificate right inside the cupboard. There was this narrow, barely noticeable space between the drawers and the cupboard wall that always somehow drew in various objects, from money to cigarettes to sometimes even vinyl records. For this unique quality they nicknamed it the blackhole.

Liam looked at the shelf where the certificate was supposed to be, only to find absolutely nothing. He rubbed his eyes and looked once again, but nothing changed.

Liam took a step back and frowned. He very distinctly remembered Damon putting the certificate on this exact shelf, making the point not to lose it. Maybe it accidently slipped somewhere else.

Liam looked at every shelf, opened every drawer, even went through Damon's entire record collection, but the certificate was nowhere to be seen. Cold, sticky panic took over his mind. Where could this damn thing be? His gaze ran all over the cupboard. There was only one place he hadn't checked yet.

Liam crouched in front of the cupboard. There, right inside the blackhole, he could see one very familiar paper. His glance shot up the cupboard, right at the shelf where the certificate was supposed to be. It was too far from the blackhole, it was very unlikely that the certificate got there by chance.

Liam once again looked at the blackhole. The paper was positioned there very neatly, as if lodged in on purpose.

- Why are you not sleeping? – the voice behind his back startled Liam.

Damon stood in the middle of living room, just a few steps away from Liam. His hair was messy from the sleep, sticking out in all directions.

- Just lookin' for something, - Liam carefully got the certificate out.

The suspicion started to form in his head, but he needed to prove it.

- Wow, it was here? That's crazy, it must've slipped in accidently or something, right? – Damon looked like a deer in headlights, beautiful and startled.

- From that shelf? Not very likely, - Liam couldn't keep the smirk away from his face.

- That's what I'm talking about, crazy, yeah? - Damon's laugh came out stifled.

- So ya didn't put it there? - I have no idea what you're talking about, - Damon's eyes darted all across the room, avoiding Liam's gaze.

Liam got up, feeling his heart beat faster and faster. This was a pretty solid proof, all he needed was the final confirmation.

- Yer a shite liar, All-Bran, - with these words he crossed the distance between them.

Damon looked away again, but he made no effort to get away from him. Liam put a hand on his neck, pulling himself up a little, and kissed Damon with all the love and passion he kept inside all these years. Even if he was wrong, even if Damon would never return his feelings, he would still have something to remember forever.

Liam didn't want the kiss to end, but he eventually had to break away. Damon's eyes were firmly closed, his expression unreadable.

- I don't wanna divorce ya. Not today, not ever, - Liam said with fervor. He needed Damon to hear him now more then ever before.

- Please tell me you aren't taking the piss, - Damon said, his eyes still closed.

- No, real and genuine, me, as always, - Liam was slightly offended by the assumption.

Damon finally opened his eyes and looked at Liam.

- Pinch me, - he demanded.

- What? – Liam's mouth fell open in shock. He heard of all that kinky stuff and wasn't against exploring it, but he didn't expect it to be so sudden.

- I said pinch me! Please, - he added softly.

Liam gave his arm a half-hearted pinch.

- Real, - Damon smiled brightly. – Not dreaming.

He put his hands on Liam's face, gently caressing his cheekbones before pulling him in for another kiss.

- I love you, - Damon whispered when they parted, his eyes shining bright like stars on clear night sky.

- Not fair, - Liam frowned. – I wanted to say it first.

- Everything's a competition with you, - Damon playfully shook his head.

- Don't pretend that ya don't like it, - Liam's hands slipped down to Damon's waist.

He buried his face in the crook of Damon's neck, peppering it with light kisses, breathing his confession right into his skin. His lips almost reached Damon's earlobe when Damon laughed softly.

- What's so funny? – Liam asked between kisses.

- We did everything the wrong way. Shouldn't a confession happen before the marriage?

- Does it really matter?

- I suppose not. Though I wish I could remember it.

- Remember what? – Liam frowned, breaking away from Damon's neck. - The wedding, and everything that happened after, - Damon's cheeks turned the loveliest shade of pink when he said it.

- Let's not forget anything this time, - with these words Liam dragged him to the bedroom.

September 1995

The door swung open and two men entered the bar, filling the room with loud, obnoxious laughter. Ludo glared at them disapprovingly. He didn't like tourists, they were too noisy and rarely tipped well. They were a rare sight in his bar and he liked it this way, it was a proper place for working people, not one of those flashy establishments on the Strip.

The clearly inebriated duo, oblivious to Ludo's disapproval, plopped on the stools right across from him.

- Nah, there's no way ya can outdrink me, I'm Irish, - the dark-haired one proudly puffed out his chest.

- Is it a challenge? - the other one smirked.

- If ya want it to be. Hey, what's the strongest stuff you've got 'ere? – the Irish one turned to Ludo, trying to snap his fingers.

Ludo turned away to hide his smirk. Not just tourists, foreigners who think they can handle real American liquor. Thankfully he had just the perfect way of dealing with this lot. He got a special bottle from under his counter and poured three pairs of shots.

- What's this? – the blond one asked, skeptically eyeing the tiny glasses.

- That's all ya got? – his friend scoffed.

- It's called Bean Spiller and I'm not legally allowed to serve you more, - Ludo crossed his arms, feeling gravely offended.

It wasn't one of those bright fancy cocktails that were all looks and no substance, it was a real thing, an old family recipe that had been passed from generation to generarion.

- Bean Spiller? That's fucking ridiculous,– the blond guy raised an eyebrow.

- Yeah, really loosens up your tongue, so be careful if you have any secrets, - Ludo's warning was completely serious.

This liquor made people really talkative but it thankfully wiped out all the memories of a few hours after its consumption. Ludo often drank it himself when he felt the need to unwind.

- I've got nothing to hide, - the blond said way too quickly.

- No secrets for me, - the Irish one added.

Ludo smirked once again. People who claimed to have no secrets were always the ones with the weirdest skeletons in their closets. He watched with great amusement as the duo downed the shot glasses with a truly alarming speed. He was sure that a few minutes later both would be under the table, but they kept on chatting and laughing, as if they were completely sober.

Ludo was busy with other customers, so he didn't notice when the tourists disappeared. They left a few bills on the counter, much more than what he charged them, so he wasn't too upset about that. He went outside to take out garbage and have a smoke when he noticed two figures right beside his garbage bin.

Surprisingly enough he could recognise them. The blond and the Irish guy were making out like their lives depended on it. Ludo couldn't help but laugh. So much for having no secrets.

The two broke away from each other and the dark-haired one said something that made the blond laugh loudly. Something about them made Ludo feel strangely nostalgic. His days of sneaking behind bars were long over, but there certainly was something nice about such displays of young love.

The blond leaned a little down, clearly trying to initiate another kiss. Ludo cursed quietly. Sure, love was wonderful and all that, but they were still blocking his way to the garbage bin.

- Get outta here! – he yelled, hoping to attract the lovers' attention.

Startled, two men turned their faces to him. The brief flash of fear on their faces quickly turned into relief. They rapidly took off, laughing as they ran away. Ludo chuckled and finally threw the garbage into the bin. Tourists were truly weird.

                                      ~

Tori looked at the clock on the wall, only to see that there were still fifteen minutes before he workday ended. She sighed and tapped her fingers on the table. When she just started working at this wedding chapel, she was beyond excited. What could be more beautiful and romantic than uniting loving hearts? The reality was more harsh then she expected: long hours, meager pay, demanding brides and grooms and their numerous relatives, each with their own way of making her life miserable. At least she had tomorrow off, that much she could look forward to.

The door flew wide open and two people entered the chapel. They were holding hands as they gingerly approached Tori's table. Judging by the uneven walk and strong alcohol smell, both were drunk as skunks.

- Good evening, can we get married now? – the shorter of the two asked her, smiling brightly.

Tori threw another glance at the clock. «Evening» was really stretching it.

- Good night, of course, do you have an ID? – she put on the politest smile she could muster. She secretly hoped that they didn't have any documents, so she could just send them away. Why did these assholes have to come here so late?

- Yes, of course, - the taller one said, much to Tori's dismay.

Never before had she done all the necessary paperwork so fast, her boss would've surely been proud if she was here to see it. The only roadblock came from the soon-to-be-wed couple, who loudly argued about who would take which last name after the wedding.

Tori stared at them intently, not so subtly clearing her throat. The pair continued to argue, completely oblivious about everything around them. She barely resisted rolling her eyes. They would likely be back in the chapel to annul the marriage tomorrow when they sober up, there was no need for all this fuss.

Five minutes later it was finally decided that they would both keep their last names. After a long audible sigh Tori conducted the briefest, most rapid ceremony in her life.

- You may now kiss the groom, - she said, feeling great relief.

The pair wasted no time, pulling each other in for a long kiss. Both were absolutely beaming when they broke away from each other. Tori hated to admit it, but it looked kinda sweet.

- Thank you so much! – the taller one gratefully nodded at her. - Yeah, thanks, - the shorter one smiled as he dragged his husband to the exit.

Tori smiled as she watched them leave the chapel, their fingers tightly intertwined. Her job absolutely sucked, but it certainly had a few good moments. For some reason, she had a feeling that those two won't be coming back for annulment tomorrow.

.                                    ~

Eros stared down at the hideous honeymoon suite, just like he did every day for many years. He was a mere depiction of an ancient god, and a pretty poorly done one, but he still inherited some of his prototype's power and consciousness. Right now he saw yet another couple in a tight embrace, laughing as they clumsily tried to take off each other's clothes. One would thing that such a picture would please the god of love, but seeing it every day year after year made took all excitement out of the act.

The couple, finally free from their clothes, sat on the bed. Eros expected them to immediately get to action, but it didn't happen. The dark-haired man lovingly caressed his partner's face, a small smile playing on his lips.

- Still can't believe it's happening, - he mumbled, tracing the other man's cheekbones with his thumbs.

- Neither can I, it's like I'm dreaming, - the blond man confessed, running his fingers through his partner's hair.

There was something oddly familiar about the way they reached for each other, something Eros couldn't quite put a pin on. The blond turned away, trying to hide his yawn.

- Are ya tired? – his partner asked. - No, not at all, - the blond said a little too fast.

- Don't lie to me, Day, - the dark-haired man shook his head. - It's alright if ya wanna sleep.

- Really? You won't be mad at me? Didn't you want a shag?

- A shag can wait, we've got all the time in the world now, - he reassuringly patted Day's shoulder.

They laid down on the bed, still in tight embrace, whispering confessions in each other's ears before falling asleep. Eros looked at them curiously. His bow and arrow were just a decoration, he couldn't inspire love like the real god supposedly did, but he could certainly sense it. These two mortals were absolutely, hopelessly in love.