Keep Holding On

Keep holding on
Cause you’ll make it through, we’ll make it through
Just stay strong
You know I’m here for you

The rush of adrenaline was still buzzing through his veins, making him feel like he was floating as he walked the short path from the stage to his dressing room; he could still hear the chanting of the fans coming from behind the curtains, their pleas for another song were enough to fuel that burning desire inside him to just turn around and go back to play for another hour or two. Yet, there was another small voice that was trying to make itself known and be heard, whispering him to hurry up so that he could, at least, spend a couple of hours with his family.

And, for the last couple of years, Nick’s family had been Brian and Baylee.

A smile was about to shine upon his face as Nick reached the dressing room and opened its door: Baylee’s play was about to finish so he thought that he could just go there and wait outside, another and final surprise of a day that had been already so full of them: they could grab dinner on their way back to Brian’s, no, their apartment there in New York and wait for the very last minute to share a bittersweet goodbye before jumping on his tourbus and drive through the night for the next destination. Even if a part of him wasn’t and would never be able to leave without feeling like he was leaving behind a piece of his heart and his soul.

Still so busy making plans and with all those thoughts inside his mind, Nick failed to notice, at first, that the room wasn’t empty as usual but there was a different scent flying in the room, a perfume that could only belong to one person and that made him long and think of home and love, family and affection and so many other things and emotions that Nick couldn’t always identify, for they always changed from situation to situation: sometimes there was longing and absence, that hard feeling he had to fight over the last weeks and that had made his heart clench as if it physically hurt to stay so far away from Brian; sometimes it was happiness, pure and genuine happiness because it meant that they were together and he was back inside his arms.

Just like in that instant, the moment when Nick inhaled that scent that reminded him of home, of the warmth of the sun and the light breeze that would carry on air that laughter, so rare and unique in the whole universe; his eyes followed that trail, landing their gaze to the figure sitting down the couch in the middle or the room, a leg propped up on the other knee and a guitar held as a protective shield, fingers just brushing the chords without creating notes or melody. Brian’s face was turned to the window, his expression lost and always so unreadable, no matter the amount of years Nick had known him and despite the fact that they now shared not only a life together, but even their own souls and hearts: Nick felt like they were more than just partners and lovers, best friends and any other definition that he could use or find in a dictionary; sometimes it felt like they were just two halves of the same being, like they were always meant to be together even if it took them half of their lives to understand it.

And yet, Nick still wasn’t able to read the older man, at least not as much as Brian was able to. Maybe it was because he had never been that much emphatic; maybe it was because he had spent so many years of his life trying to undo all his own troubles, and the scars left by fate and destiny, that he had missed chance after chance to learn something of the man he would then chose to love and be with for the rest of eternity. Or, much simpler, Brian was such a master in hiding his emotions and his feelings so well and so deep, so far away that even him couldn’t reach them anymore in the desperate attempt to try and solve the mystery that was his voice.

So for a moment Nick just stood there, his shoulder against the doorframe, and observed those lines that were so impossible and difficult to miss and that told something he had thought it might have been going on during those months of absence and distance. Although he had wanted so badly to be wrong and, a part of him, really and still believed that the worst could and had to be over their shoulders and so far away from their lives. And yet, there it was: the expression of longing, melancholy, nostalgia and heartache written on those lines and features Nick loved so much as Brian’s fingers kept caressing the guitar’s chords as if they could bring him some sort of peace.

Or a solution.

Once Nick had thought that loving Brian was going to be the most difficult and complicated mission of his entire life, given how little he had known about love or about to be in a serious and adult relationship. Or maybe it had been the fact that Brian had always been his superhero, that one person he had put higher above anyone else and always tried his best to follow his steps and example. That had been one of the reason why he had fought so much those feelings getting stronger and stronger inside him but... but he had never been so relieved about being wrong: loving Brian had been always so simple, no matter how hard or complicated the circumstances around them were because all Nick needed to do was just being there for him, supporting and fight him when he was so stubborn not to see that he was just hurting himself; loving Brian was simple because Brian loved hard and put all his trust and faith in one’s hands, Nick’s hands, and, for the first time, Nick wasn’t just a kid, afraid and scared of not being worthy or equal: they were partners, in the literal meaning of that word and, sometimes, that meant to stay in the shadow and intervene only when it was really necessary.   

“That sweater looks better on you than on me.”

That was how Nick made known his presence, loving the fact that Brian was wearing one of the sweaters he had drawn for the merchandizing and ended up keeping one for himself: it was too big for the other man, a combination of Nick’s being taller and a loss of weight that had gone unnoticed by most of people. But not by Nick, who knew every single inch of that skin and couldn’t be fooled so easily. Another sign that things hadn’t been easy, another sign that Brian’s mind had been so troubled to forget even the basic needs.

“Because I’m All American.” Brian quoted Nick’s album, his voice dropping into that southern accent that was like honey for Nick’s ears, a tone able to make his knee’s weak and his heart flutter, as if a butterfly had decided to try its wings inside his chest. It wasn’t just the accent itself, because the same reaction didn’t happen when it was Kevin or someone else using it; it was the man using it, the echoes of things and words that had been said with that warm, round accent that made Nick feel like it was still the beginning of their relationship: a little guy dealing and standing in front of his crush, the man who held his heart for so many and many years, pouring his love into broken words and hoping it would be returned.

Nick couldn’t help but laugh at that pun, closing the door behind him and finally going to sit down next to Brian.

“What are you doing here?”

“You said that you didn’t want me to go. – Brian stated as a matter of fact. – And I didn’t want to leave too.” He added in the end, shrugging and then returning to play some sort of unknown melody with the guitar.

Yes, Nick hadn’t wanted him to go, and it hadn’t been just something he had said only for the fan’s sake, who obviously kept waiting for Brian to appear a second time or stay on the stage until the end of the show. No, Nick had actually wished silently that someone would hear his plea and let it happen somehow, let the man stay for another hour because it had been months since they had seen each other for more than a couple of minutes, a life together complicated by the distance and that sudden move to New York for Baylee’s role in Broadway: they had managed to squeeze in some days together, a weekend here and three days there, but it hadn’t been enough. It would never be enough when every and each day spent apart felt like he was missing a part of himself.

And the same could be said about Brian, who had missed Nick like one would miss a part of his own body: sometimes that feeling of absence had been so hard to resist and fight because it had felt like as sharp fingers clutching his heart in a grip so tight that he had feared his old problems had been back; sometimes Skype calls hadn’t been enough, they couldn’t have been enough because there was so much he had wanted to confess, so many troubles and thoughts he had wanted to lay down and out in the open because they were managing to suffocate him, taking away that small voice he had been left with.

Though Brian already knew that Nick had sensed that something had been wrong during those months, even if he hadn’t called him out or tried to make him talk. And, in a way, he was grateful for that because he had needed that time, he had needed to figure things out on his own instead than being pressured not to make his lover sick with worry. 

“But I thought you’ll be back at the theatre for Baylee.” Nick replied honestly, though it was hard to hide all the excitement and happiness seeing the man there.

A shadow passed over Brian’s face, a dark grey cloud that Nick had learned its meaning after many and many discussions and fights: it had never been easy for Brian, at the beginning, to find the perfect balance between the two people he loved most in the world; in the end, he had always felt that weight of regret or being guilty for not spending much time with one or missing some important steps with another. Now it was different, now Nick was a little bit much more mature and felt he was no more in competition with Baylee, with Brian’s own son, for his affection and dedication. He had learned that in the hardest way possible and, probably, part of the blame and weight that Brian had put on himself for their situation had been one of the reason his voice got trapped inside that complicated web, whose strings were still trying, albeit weakly, to pull their owner back inside their trap instead than release and let him free.

“I’ve been to that show every day. I’ve seen it and rehearsed  so many times with Baylee that I could probably go on stage and play the substitute if...”

“... if you weren’t taller and older to play Baylee’s role?” Nick added, interrupting Brian before he could say something worse, something more serious and something that the old Brian, the one proud of his value and talent, wouldn’t even dared to think of.

A smile curved Brian’s lips, a soft and tender light brightened up those blue eyes and, for a moment, it felt like nothing had changed or happened; for a moment it felt like they were still those two clueless men who kept running around each other and make the other blush because they didn’t know how to be more than friends. How to say something that would make them cross the line instead than walking so close to it.

“I was about to say something more like I would totally suck and ruin every song with... you know... my voice.” As pronouncing those last words, Brian’s gaze fell on his lap, unwilling to let Nick see those flashes and sparks of embarrassment and shame that he still couldn’t fight or keep at bay. Especially after all those thoughts that Nick didn’t know.

Yet.

Nick’s hand fell on Brian’s knee, squeezing it in a sort of caress that wanted to reassure and imply that it wasn’t that the case, that there had been improvements and Brian could never ever fall in the category of those people couldn’t sing or suck at it terribly. Yet, that would had been a sort of white lie because of what had happened on stage that night, how Brian had struggled like they had made a jump back in time, back to those first stages of trying to find the right therapy and solutions.

“Now...”

“Don’t. – Brian stopped Nick immediately. – We both know the truth. I don’t need to be coddled or lied.”

“I wasn’t about to lie, Brian. I don’t think that the fans, tonight, gave a damn about your voice. I could barely hear myself with how much they were cheering or just being excited by your presence.”

Silence fell between the two of them, an air of tension that Nick wanted to cleanse by reaching out and wrap Brian inside his arms, reassuring him in the only way he knew he could: he had never been good with words, he had always had problems with meanings and saying the right things at the right times and with Brian... with Brian he knew he couldn’t make any mistakes. He didn’t want to make them, that had and would always been the difference: he wanted to be whatever the man needed him to be, even if it would be being a shoulder to lean on and let him ranting and finally taking out all the shit he kept inside for who knew how many months. So he didn’t get closer, sensing that Brian needed some sort of space, physically and metaphorically. He didn’t reach out but he stayed there, sitting just little inches away from him, knowing that there was another reason why Brian had stayed and waited for him. Something serious, something that he hadn’t found the courage to talk about on the phone and that something had nibbled his soul, mind and conscience until Brian couldn’t take it anymore. Or, as Brian was trying to learn through the last years, until he was reminded that he wasn’t alone anymore and that he hadn’t to face everything on his own, because  Nick wasn’t that little, irresponsible and selfish guy Brian had took under his wings and vowed to shield from everything, even himself if it was necessary.

The only contact, the only gesture Nick did try to do was keeping his hand on Brian’s knee, his fingertips tapping the fabric of the jeans in a rhythm that he had learned was calming and soothing, a sort of “I’m here and I will be here even after, no matter what you are about to say.”

“You know... – Brian started to say, his gaze going back to the window and to the reflection of the lights of that city he was learning to love so much and so deeply. - ... after all those years, after all the ups and downs, I thought that I had found some sort of balance. I may have given up the idea of finding something, a cure or just a solution, that could finally put an end to this misery, but I didn’t give up that hope to get better, to reach some sort of new normality: I just had to work, right? That was what I kept telling me. I had to keep working and working, shrugging off the bad days and just holding onto the good days, the getting better days. But...”

“But?” Nick dared to ask, his hand itching to climb up to Brian’s cheek and brush away that one and only tear that was leaving a solitary trail on the skin. It hurt him, physically hurt him, to see his partner, his lover and companion, still so heartbroken and in pain over... well, Nick had learned that there was no exception, he just couldn’t stand seeing the man he loved in such a state, brutally aware that there wasn’t nothing he could do to make the pain go away.

Brian inhaled and exhaled, not bothering to wipe away the tear and just focusing to find the right words so that Nick could understand the root of his problems, that boiling center that had never stopped burning and whose flames had already destroyed and reduced to ashes parts and shreds of a soul that was never going to recover.  

Or brought back to life.

He just had to learn to live with what had been left and try to do the most of it. And that had been the part he had struggled the most with, learning and accepting that he couldn’t be perfect anymore. And that had left him lost, utterly and completely because, at first, it had seemed an impossible mission. Brian had tried so many times, he had spent so many nights wide awake, watching the hands of the clock ticking away the time and his mind rushing around thoughts and words that didn’t match up. How could he explain to someone else what it felt to know, to be fully aware, that a part so important of himself was gone forever? How could he explain that to Nick, the only one person who had never stopped believing that he would do it, he would prove everyone – fans and doctors, critics and haters – that he could be that voice again? There hadn’t been an answer to those questions and, yet, Brian had staggered to reach out and ask for help: partly because his own pride wouldn’t let him even admit it and, partly, it had been because he hadn’t want to ruin Nick’s happiness with his own despair and desperation but he realized that he couldn’t keep that up: it had come the time when he needed to talk to someone, only so that he couldn’t risk to fall in that black and so attractive pit that already one time had managed to swallow him up.

And that someone couldn’t be no one else but Nick

“Promise me. Swear it to me. Next time you feel like that again, next time you can’t see the light at the end of the darkness, you’ll come to me. I don’t care if I won’t be able to understand. But you have to talk to me. No more hiding until it’s too late, okay? We’ll find a way. We’re going get through it together, okay?”

No matter how hard or how much it could hurt him, Brian had made that promise not only to Nick but even to himself and there wasn’t any going back now: he intended to keep that promise, although it might take him time and time before finding the courage and the strength to put off his mask and let Nick see his damaged soul, to witness the result of a war that, now Brian knew and accepted, it was never going to end.

“Some days it hits me so suddenly that I don’t have even the time to protect myself from the blown, I can’t tell myself that it’s okay if I’m not that person anymore. If I’m not that voice I used to be. Some days it happens, you turn on the radio or you stumble upon a old video and...”

Brian’s voice broke off, those muscles around his throat squeezing so tightly as if it was just a game for them, as if they still didn’t managed to cut all the oxygen and air off. But there was another reason for that abrupt break and it was because of those damned words that couldn’t be found: Brian simply didn’t know how to explain that hurt, that pain that was able to suffocate him and bring him back to that black angle of his mind where all the monsters sleep, those voices that would taunt him because he wasn’t going to be that voice he was listening to.

His fingers found Nick’s and started to trace lines, circles and figures without a name on the skin, damp and dry at the same time after hours of being up on a stage with no worries at all, just singing and enjoying staying up there because his voice wasn’t going to abandon him suddenly and that was why Nick would never be able to comprehend Brian’s pain and that feeling of absence. Not because he didn’t care, not because he didn’t want to but only because some things couldn’t be known if they weren’t lived, just like Brian hadn’t be able to understand how drugs, alcohol and his family’s drama had taken a hold on Nick’s life and tainted it for so many years.

Months ago Brian would have just kept silent because he couldn’t still see the difference between not being able to understand and not wanting, not caring as he had thought during his dark moments: during those days Nick’s words of comfort and reassurance would only make him more frustrated and angry, ending up in fights and discussions that would only waste energies away.

But now...

Now Brian was ready for letting Nick to see that part of him, he needed him to understand or, at least, grasp the edges of that grey and gloomy cloud he had brought with him that night.

Now Brian was ready to need Nick and his comfort so he could stand up once again and face whatever was waiting for him.

“How can I explain to you, how can I make you feel this ache and this hole that come back to life when I say that I miss it, that I miss my voice? How can I make you understand this without sounding bitter or resentful? Or, worse, jealous and full on envy? Because I miss it, Nick. I miss it so badly that sometimes I wish it was gone definitely so, at least, I don’t have to hope and see that bird try to fly but ending up falling down after a short time, its wings broken and burned irreparably. – Another tear fell down and, this time, Brian had to bite down the soft skin inside his mouth to prevent a sob to escape along with it. – I miss it. But I can’t have it back. I’m stuck.” Brian closed his eyes, thin curls of hair falling down on his forehead and an air of defiance wrapping him into an invisible and inapproachable bubble.

Nick felt each one of those words had been punches, blows that knew exactly where to land so that they could hurt the most, so that they could deliver and provoke the most damage possible. Those words couldn’t be objected, couldn’t be denied because they held a truth that he hadn’t want to acknowledge consciously and willingly: hadn’t been he the one who fought the most about not giving up hope? Hadn’t been he the one that kept feeding the flames, whispered that things, that Brian’s voice, could go back to its peak and return to be that beautiful sound he had first fallen in love with? Every time his partner had struggled, every anxiety and panic attack, Nick had been there to remind Brian that he could make it, that he was strong enough to get back on his feet as if there hadn’t been any storm able to make him fall. Nick had been the first that hadn’t wanted to accept the truth and, at the same time, he had been the one holding and raising that high and impossible standard that Brian had tried so hard to reach because he hadn’t want to disappoint him.

Fail him once again.

Nick took the guitar from Brian and placed it delicately on the coffee table in front of the couch; then, without saying anything, he reached out and took the other man inside his arms, not knowing exactly what he was supposed to say. And, maybe, there was nothing he could say because Brian was right: there was no way for him to understand what it felt hearing what his voice had been reduced to and miss the old one, miss that part of him that had been and still was his job. He could never been able to understand the length and depth of that pain and heartache but that couldn’t mean that he had to stay there, frozen and unmoving as he watched the best part of himself drifting away, disappearing under the pressure and stress that everyone expected from him.

Including and most especially from Brian himself.

Because that was one of the most important lessons Nick had learned while being with and loving Brian: those strong shoulders, that now were trembling for the strain to keep their position and didn’t giving in, had always held the weight of the world. Brian’s world: every mistakes he had ever made, every heartache and suffering, every decision that had to be made but had seemed so wrong because someone was going to be hurt... all of that, and much more, had found its place on that back and sometimes Nick had wondered how it was possible that Brian had been able to hold it together for so long. In truth, he had envied and be jealous of him since, in that time, he wasn’t even able to keep a hold of himself and understood that the most difficult and hardest decision was the wisest at the same time. And then, one day, when his mind had been finally free of drugs and that self pity that had managed to make him angry with the world, and the older man especially, Nick had realized that Brian had to do it because there was no one that ever took the time, or the care, to notice the first cracks in his perfect image; that day, during that discussion, started from a simple song and escalated into something bigger and nuclear but that had managed to bring them closer than ever before, Nick had realized that, maybe, they weren’t that different and that even a person like Brian needed someone to run after him, to care for him and to fight for and with him.

That had been the day that Nick had realized a desire, hidden so deep inside his soul: he wanted to be that person. He had wanted to be that person that wasn’t going to let Brian run away with his demons, let him withdraw and hide inside himself because he didn’t want people to think and believe that something was wrong with someone so hold together. Brian had been able to fool so many people and most of them, Nick included, had let him get away with it because there was always someone or something much more important to deal with. It hadn’t been easy learning to love Brian the way he deserved to; it hadn’t been easy  proving to Brian that he wasn’t going to be left alone with carrying that weight on his shoulders because there was someone with him this time, someone willing to share that weight. It hadn’t been easy and, even in that moment, it was still difficult for Brian to simply let himself go: at first he had tried to resist that hug, tried to escape from those arms that wanted to trap into a position he rarely accepted so easily: his pride, that side of him that couldn’t accept to show any weakness or any gesture of comfort, screamed inside his mind, trying to remind Brian that he had made it through all those years on his own, without crying and asking comfort to someone else.

But it wasn’t a stranger holding him. It wasn’t a someone who had just happened to pass by and had seen someone in difficult or in needing. In a second that stretched into infinity and eternity, a soft voice started to whisper that it was Nick the one hugging him as if he wanted to hide him and his tears, the one trying to hold him together while he was fighting so hard to erase those thoughts and poisons from his mind; it was Nick and it was okay to let go for a moment, to uncurl the fists that gripped so tightly the hems of Nick’s shirt that the skin had became white from the strain and just breathe. Ragged breaths but still able to let the tension out and let in that silent and infinite support that only someone who knew him, really knew him and had seen the darkness still eating away his soul, could give so freely and so strongly.

“That’s the reason why you’ve stopped with therapy, am I wrong?” Nick asked after what seemed millennia and hundreds of seconds of silence; one finger brushed away the blonde hair from Brian’s forehead and lips replaced their place, leaving soft touches and caresses.

“No, you aren’t. – Brian replied with a sad smile, his face still buried in the special spot between neck and shoulder. It was so easy staying there, in a way it calmed him and made him feel so safe and sound that there was no holding back anymore. There, in that place that had quite became his sanctuary, Brian was ready to tell the truth. Every single part and small details of it. – How did you know that?” He asked, though a part of himself already knew what Nick’s answer, for the same reason he was able to tell when Nick was struggling with his sobriety or when he needed to be reminded about how much he was so different from his family.

“You’ve stopped talking about it. At first I thought you just didn’t want to talk about it and I wasn’t going to pry in case things were rough or not going well. But after awhile I figured you weren’t going anymore and that meant that something must had happened...” Nick’s voice trailed off, losing himself in the echoes and memories of the moment when he realized that something hadn’t been right with his partner. The first instinct, as always, had been to leave whatever he was doing and take the first plane to New York, ready to fight with everything he got to find out the truth, even if he had to use claws to dig so deep that scars were likely to be left between them. Especially after that dark period when he had almost lost Brian, after he had almost missed all those signs that had talked about something so deadly serious. But not this time. This time had been different because Brian hadn’t left everything to hide away in hope to disappear from the world; this time Brian had focused all of his energies on Baylee, so easily eager to show affection and curiosity about what Nick was doing or what they were talking about that Nick had decided that it was better to wait. Wait and let Brian come to him when he felt ready.

“Why didn’t you ask me about it? Were you afraid about what the answer was going to be?”

Nick kissed the top of Brian’s head before placing his chin there and stretching his long legs so that they could be both comfortable: in that way, Brian ended up being completely sprawled over Nick’s body, draped over him like a blanket or like a child that didn’t want to let go of his favorite teddy bear.

“It wasn’t like the last time. And I know that you don’t particularly like being attacked about something you are still trying to figure out.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you. Or that I didn’t want to share my worries. Honestly, I just accepted my condition and tried to see if I could do something else. I told myself that if I couldn’t sing anymore, if I couldn’t recover or just being acceptable, then I could just focus all of my energies into something else.”

“Baylee’s musical. Your musical, the one you’ve been working on for so long and never let me read it.” Nick added, remembering how always excited Brian had sounded whenever he would talk about those two things. Or mostly the first. That had been the reason why he hadn’t been worried that much because, maybe, that was what Brian might needed: to know that he was more than just a voice.

“Yes. – Brian answered, not commenting the part about letting Nick reading what he was writing. Mostly because he still didn’t know if it was actually good at it. -  And, for the first months, it was good. No, not actually good but it was a good compromise: I wasn’t worrying and overstressing myself about not being able to get better and I had something that occupied all of my energies. There wasn’t time for regret, there wasn’t time to stop for a moment and try. I thought it could work, you know? I thought that it could be my new life, just being a dad and still, somehow, being part of the music world.”

“But it wasn’t enough, was it?” Nick’s question went directly to the point because, in the end, he and Brian weren’t that different: they needed to sing, they needed to be on a stage and have all the attention pointed towards them. And it couldn’t be enough, just standing behind the curtains and never getting the chance to have a proper last bow; it couldn’t be enough because Nick knew that Brian, the Brian that still lingered somewhere behind all the scars and the mess, would never want to be remembered as someone who had to step aside instead than deciding that moment himself.

“I was so freaking happy and proud of Baylee. I am. But... there was this voice, so small and yet so difficult and impossible to dismiss, that kept hissing and whispering how it wasn’t fair that I couldn’t do the same; there was this part of me that longed to sing once again, no matter how strangled and rough my voice would sound.”

“You realized that you can’t just quit like that.”

This time, Brian shifted until he could prop himself up and look into Nick’s eyes. There was a light, a different shade of blue that told that he knew it, he had always knew what was going to happen if he would go on stage for even one time. That was the reason why Nick had never confronted him about giving up therapy and all that crap doctors kept telling him: he had a plan in mind and knew it was going to work because... well, because now Nick wasn’t that younger man who was afraid to dare and look more into someone’s else mind and soul instead than focusing only on himself; because now Nick was aware and very conscious to be part of something that nothing could ever be able to divide, something so intricate that had bound two souls together as if they were one being. Now Nick was starting to understand Brian more than he had ever did before and had the strength and courage to act and take the lead, instead than always being the one following.

“You knew.”

“I love you. So I know you, I know you were just tired and angry, although you were never going to admit it.”

“Life is unfair, we all have learned that. I wasn’t going to cry again over something that couldn’t be changed magically. And telling you that... – Brian shrugged, a tight smile that couldn’t hide all the sadness and frustration of those last months. - ... I didn’t know how to admit it. I didn’t know if I was ready to say that I don’t want to stop being who I am.”

“But now you are.” Nick stated. He had seen the transformation happening under his eyes while they were still singing: at first Brian had been timid, almost shy to let himself go and stop worrying about notes and how they would sound; then, in a blink of an eye, it was like the real Brian had step up and taken the stage, trying melodies that maybe hadn’t came out perfectly but showed how much more comfortable and at easy the man was while fans screamed, applauded and cheered for him.

“Yes. – Brian replied. – Thanks to you and your plan.” He added, brushing his nose against Nick’s with a smirk that never failed to turn Nick’s stomach in a pool of warm sea and love.

“I didn’t do anything. I just...”

“Stop being so modest. It doesn’t suit you. – Nick couldn’t help but grin at those words, not just because they were so damn true. But because Brian was looking at him and smiling and who wouldn’t be able to resist and not smile back at him? - You knew. You knew that if I went up on stage and sing, I would probably reconsider everything. I would probably find the motivation and courage to try once again. I would probably found out that I was missing something else, something that I still can have even with my voice in this state.”

Nick couldn’t reply even though he wanted to say something or, at least, take away that tone of voice that spoke of longing and despair, of months spent denying a part of himself that was so deep rooted that it couldn’t be strapped away so easily and without pain. Nick couldn’t reply and, at the same time, Brian didn’t even give him the time, shifting and changing position so he could sit up, even if it made him a little far from Nick. But their contact didn’t break, their hands stood one inside the other and their fingers couldn’t and didn’t want to stop playing with each others.

“I miss it. God, if I missed the stage! – Brian stated and stressed in that southern accent that made Nick feel butterflies and trembles that had nothing to do with worries or being scared about his partner. – I missed the adrenaline, the high from the fans and I love, I freaking love staying up there and knowing that, somehow, I’m still able to make them happy. And when I’m there, when I’m singing, everything... everything used to disappear, you know? I don’t feel like I’ve already given all that I’ve got and... – Brian shook his head and Nick couldn’t stop himself to raise a hand and curl one of those around his index finger. - ... I’m not gonna quit.”

Nick didn’t reply at first. There was a bubble of excitement and worry all tangled up together, that fear that he had always had to bury somewhere deep inside because he knew that one day... when things got bad, quitting had always seemed what Brian couldn’t stop think about.

“And I’m gonna stop being this version of myself who keep feel sorry for himself.” Brian kept going on, coming closer to Nick.

“You have all the rights in the world.”

“Keep crying over spilled milk doesn’t make it disappear magically. Someone has to clean it.”

“It’s a strange metaphor to use...” Nick commented, his brow frowned as he tried to understand what Brian was trying to say.

“I mean... I can keep being angry. I can be depressed, heartbroken and hopeless, stop the therapy and pray for a miracle. But all of that is just gonna make the situation worse not better. The only thing that can help me is keep going, keep holding on and accepting whatever success, or failure, will come.”

Without even wasting time to search inside his mind for something to say, Nick captured Brian’s face with his hands, lips crashing on lips and let his own emotions tell how much proud and in love he was with him. And because it was seriously a challenge, every time, resisting to those lips that should be illegal or, at least, should just belong to him and no one else. Panting breaths filled the air, the only sounds apart from those small yelp of pleasuring pain when teeth would found a particular and sensible spot, drawing sparks of something that had been held inside for too much time, a desire and longing to be together that distance had only made grow stronger and bigger and now was finally finding its way to escape. The first kisses were slow, though, painfully caresses that wanted to reminiscing how those lips tasted and felt against them, how they would put up a game of run and seek before finding each other again; then the temperature of atmosphere raised up, making it impossible for the body to stand still and not be part of that reunion: Nick’s hands travelled around the neck, grabbing a hold of Brian’s hair and pushing him so close and against him that he ended up with his back against the cushions of the couch, Brian’s body laying upon his and his hands stumbling and fumbling with the buttons of Nick’s shirt.

Time stopped its course, seconds and minutes got frozen as those two souls were finally reconnecting and remembering how it felt to be as a whole, two parts that had to be divided because life made it complicated, although nothing could ever be able to stop and divide them. Nothing, not even the distance and all the hard times they had faced, had been able to diminish that passion that sparked every single time they were together in the same room. And, in those moments, Brian didn’t have to wonder or think too much about what it was right or wrong, what he should or shouldn’t do: being with Nick, being as one and whole being, interconnected and so intertwined that no one could tear them apart, Brian felt whole. Brian felt complete, like he hadn’t been in a long time.

“I admit... – A raspy and rough murmur escaped from Brian’s bruised lips, still burning with the scent and the echoes of Nick’s touch. His whole body was still vibrating, coming down from the high of pleasure and trying to take in as much heat and Nick’s imprint as possible. Yet, he was relaxed, his body feeling weightless and if it was just floating in air, its only handle on reality those caresses that Nick’s lips and hands still hadn’t ceased to draw on his skin. - ... I don’t want to be apart from you either.”

Nick’s laughter filled the air, his mouth coming to steal away another breath and another piece of Brian’s soul. “Yep, that is one of my motives for not letting you quit.”

“You’re a selfish one, Mr. Carter.”

“You knew it perfectly well when you decided to stick with me.”

“Yes, I knew. – Brian replied, placing a hand on Nick’s chest and using it so he could raise up and look at him. – And I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t been selfish.”

“Let’s not talk about it. Not now, at least.”

“No. You’re right. – Brian agreed, kicking away those dark memories that had been so good and courageous in another time and place, taking hold of his life and almost destroying it. – No more thinking or dwelling on the past. All of it.”

“Smart decision.” Nick replied with a kiss on a temple, so much relief sweeping inside his veins to see, to finally be able to recognize the man he had fallen in love with so many years ago.

“I’m gonna find a new therapist, here in New York. Ask around, see if there are new or more solutions or cures that I haven’t found yet. And sing. Keep singing. – Brian lowered his face, just that much so that he could brush his lips on Nick’s. – Keep holding on no matter what.”      

Nick reached for Brian’s hand, opening his palm and resting his against: Nick’s hand had always been bigger than Brian, long fingers that had always been attracted to the elder’s one, as if there was an invisible force that demanded them to be together.

United.

“Together, Brian. We keep holding on together.”

*********

“... for love.”

The five voice came together for the end of the song, harmonizing in a way that it belonged to other times, past times when one voice was able to be heard among the other four and made the sound fuller and complete.

For an instant, no one dared to speak for it was just one rehearsal and they all have learned not to hold on to hope so tightly but the smiles were impossible to disguise or hide; blue eyes searched for another shade of the same color, though this time it was so much brighter and it was like a new light had set behind it, making it shining with a feeling that Nick had rarely see on that face for a long, too long time.

Pride.

Brian was looking around, gathering the smiles and the brief words of congratulations and, for the first time, he welcomed them with warm and open arms, instead than feeling hurt and ashamed that, after all those years, he needed to be rewarded and praised like he was a beginner. Not being victim of those feelings had been part of the process of recovery, understanding that he wasn’t being judged or pitied but that everyone was cheering and supporting for him as a person, as a human being and a friend, brother and partner: for so long Brian had felt the pressure to get better because he must do it, otherwise there wouldn’t be a group anymore or because people were going to take him and put him in the backyard, useless and weak.

And it all started in that cold night in New York, when he had realized how much he missed singing, how much he had missed being on stage and just feeling the song, not the difficulties that his voice was going through to hit certain notes. Surely, he now had accepted that he couldn’t be that voice again but that wasn’t the end of the world: he was older, he had been singing for all of his life and it was bound to change, to raise a white flag and ask for a break and for a moment to breathe. And that was the reason why he had chosen that song for his solo moment: it was kind a challenge and, at the same time, a sort of proving that he could still sing those old songs. He still could be Brian.

It was just a rehearsal, it was going to be a concert inside a cruise but, yet, Brian felt his veins finally being filled with that feeling of pride that had been a stranger for so long. And he could see the same emotion reflected inside Nick’s eyes, the warm smile that told him and implied so much many more words that couldn’t be shared in that moment, except for an “I love you” mouthed so rapidly and quickly that only Brian could pick up as if it was a small butterfly.

Yes, things were going to be okay. For the moment. That was another lesson he had to learn and accept: no more looking and holding on to an uncertain future but just taking day by day, success or failure. Because that, in the end, was what life was about: just like that sea that they were sealing away in a big boat, there were going to be days when he would find himself underwater, submerged by things he couldn’t control or a sudden panic attack able to eat away a little bit of confidence and security. But he wasn’t going to face them alone: he was going to breathe during those days because he had love and support.

Because he had Nick and, together, they could make things work: comforting each others during storms and failures and celebrating the days when there was going to be only a clear sky and a shining sun.

Because he had Nick, and the other boys, so he just had to keep holding on.

And singing.