Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It's a scalding Tuesday afternoon when Noel steps off the bus and arrives in Burnage, freshly sacked and incredibly hungover.

Fair is fair, he thinks bitterly. Not really in the job description of a roadie to use the band’s coke and weed and fuck around in clubs all day. And he wanted to play guitar all the time, anyway. He didn't give a fuck about counting t-shirts in the Inspiral Cunts office.

Noel doesn't even remember the last time he carried an amp anywhere, really. He's a bit surprised it took them this long, but then again he does give incredible head. 

Noel thinks the band is about to implode in on itself anyway, and they're trying to save face and every pence they got by sacking most of their staff. Fuck them anyway. 

Well, he's kind of got nowhere to live, what with Lousie breaking up with him over the phone when he was in some dingy hotel in America a few months back. Noel can't believe he was going to propose. And with most of his friends of the past decade either having sacked him or just been sacked, to Mam’s he goes. 

It's not that far from the bus station to their little council house, but Noel drags his feet and makes a few unnecessary stops and turns. He's sweating in his shirt and his shoulders are killing him from lugging around his suitcase and guitar. He might be a bit embarrassed if he's honest with himself. He really thought he would be doing this forever. On the road. With his mates and music. 

He finally gives up and arrives at the front door a good 45 minutes later. He didn't call or anything. Too busy being sick to his stomach on the plane and on the train and then on the bus. He rings the doorbell and adjusts himself, fixes his shirt and combs his hand through his hair. He doesn't know why he's nervous. It's only his Mam, it's true he hasn't seen her in over a year, but she’ll still be happy to see him. 

It takes a few minutes of dead quiet for Noel to realize: 1. No one is home 2. This is where he grew up, so why is he waiting by the door like some twat and 3. The door is unlocked anyway. 

He crosses the threshold almost self consciously. It's eerily quiet, he guesses it makes sense since it's the middle of the day and all that. But his stomach is in knots for some reason. Apparently some small childish part of him wanted fanfare and tears at his arrival. It used to happen, too. The first few years after he joined the carpets. But after almost a decade his family kind of lost hope of keeping him for any significant amount of time. It's fair, he thinks. With how often he was gone and how it was the only thing he wanted to do, leave this life behind. 

The sitting room and kitchen look about the same, save for what looks like a brand new TV and a thick rug underneath. He carries his suitcase with much difficulty upstairs, it's unbelievable that anyone even hired him to be a roadie. It makes him smile a little, knowing he conned Clint and them idiots into financing his unproductive early twenties. He gives up on the suitcase and leaves it on the stairs, his queasy stomach and pounding head don't feel like taking it any further.

He walks into his old bedroom, virtually unchanged with its gold little plaque at the door. He lays his guitar case gently on the floor and just stands there, looking at the tiny twin beds, now with new sheets. There are a few new posters on the wall, his wall.

God, he needs a line. His fingers itch on his jeans, he makes a concentrated effort not to look too much at the other side of the room, but he can't help but notice: Shoes and clothes scattered on the floor. The new small shelf with a few paperbacks and little ceramic figurines and other knickknacks. Rumpled sheets and an unmade bed. 

He can try to get some gear later tonight. But now he needs a nap and probably a shower.

He keeps standing in the doorway with his eyes on the two beds, fights with himself a bit, maybe he's got a sunstroke or summat. He throws himself on his bed and immediately passes out. 

***

Noel jolts awake in bed, he couldn't have slept more than a couple of hours. His eyes readjust to the waking world slowly, taking in his surroundings. Right. He's thirty years old and recently unemployed. 

He hears a familiar cackle outside through the small window in the room, probably what woke him up. A few voices are coming through the door now. Mam and a few others. Noel's stomach sinks, he doesn't feel like moving at all. He sits on his bed and listens to the voices downstairs, he’s not really registering what they're saying. But it feels familiar and claustrophobic. 

He is such a fucking cunt, he knows it. Made peace with it even. He thinks of reaching for his guitar just to have something to do, even though nothing in this room really inspires anything in him. Or maybe he should just get up and shower.

He doesn't get the luxury of doing any of that though, it only takes a few minutes before he hears footsteps coming up the stairs. They stop abruptly, about half way through– probably considering his abandoned suitcase, then the footsteps pick up with new found determination. 

Pat pat pat. He's standing in the door. Noel's heart is beating in his throat, his skin is itching so bad it feels like it's going to peel itself off and abandon his body. 

He feels small and insignificant under the scrutiny of his brother’s lazy gaze. He's dead quiet and just taking him in, eyes moving slowly all over Noel’s body. Like he might've come back missing a limb or summat.

“What?” Noel says first, trying for casual but sounding childish and defensive. It's the first thing Noel has said to his little brother in over two years. 

Aside from his hair, he hasn’t changed much. If there was one thing Noel could depend on, it was that Liam will always be here, and he’ll always be Liam. He’s wearing dark blue jeans and a matching denim jacket, with a bright red shirt underneath. He must be drowning in sweat with that on under the July sun. 

What he really wants to say is, since when did you start having your hair so fucking short? What's with the beard? Why are you just getting home? It's fucked to hit the pubs in the middle of the afternoon, even for you. Noel doesn't say any of that. His tongue is so thick in his mouth he's worried he’ll swallow it. Fucking useless bastards, his mouth and his brain.

“What? What?! That's all, mate?” Liam steels his gaze, shoulders tense. He’s not looking for a fight but he's warming up to it. He takes two quick steps in their tiny room and then he's standing over Noel’s bed. “Not give your Mam a call for months. She had to assume you're dead, you prick.” The you didn't give me a call. Ever. Is a given, so it goes unsaid. 

Up close Noel can actually get a good look at his face, his features are sharper, more defined. A bit of stubble on his cheeks. He's still walking the same, but he lost that inherent awkwardness in his limbs that comes with being a boy. 

Noel is not too bothered by the berating, it kind of distracts him a bit. Keeps Liam’s attention away from Noel’s state too. His bed head and dark circles and day old clothes. “I gave her plenty of calls, you twat.”

Liam scoffs at him. “Barely any.”

“What's with your hair?” Noel says suddenly. He's lost his touch, really.

Surprisingly, Liam only gapes at that. “What?”

He lifts his hand and touches his own head, the corners of his mouth start twitching slightly like he's holding back a smile. “You're a piece of work, Noel Gallagher.” 

Liam, with no warning dives headfirst into Noel’s chest. He childishly pinches Noel’s sides and tries to slap at any surface he can reach, Noel only retaliates to save face. It's a young man’s game, this. Liam though looks positively giddy and excited, it's so stupid it has Noel grinning a little. 

“Fucking wanker. Are you done now?” Noel says after they tire themselves out a bit, stopping to catch their breaths. Noel looks down at his little brother, eyes closed and a dopey smile on his face. As if sensing the eyes on him, he puts both arms around Noel’s middle and squeezes. He doesn't dare to say anything. 

Noel is only human, there is a limit to how cold hearted he can be, he has to throw the kid a bone. “Twat,” He says, running his hand along Liam's hair. Well, scalp more like, and resting it on his neck. 

Liam sighs, lifts his head and looks at his brother, he nods as if he discerned something vital from Noel’s self defensive squint. “The rugs finally give you a break?”

Noel rolls his eyes.

“You should’ve called man, would've had a proper party for you. Or at least a nice meal. Mam’s doing something with fish I think.” He starts rambling a bit about food and pubs and Mam’s cooking habits these days. Noel can't really get a word in when he gets going.

“They've sacked me,” He interrupts. 

Liam’s eyes go wide and he shuts his mouth, biting his lip as to not say anything that betrays his unbridled joy, probably. 

“I’m not that hungry,” Noel adds weakly. 

“Fuck, Noel…” Liam says after a moment. He's never liked the Carpets anyway, especially after a few years, when Noel didn't want to take him to local gigs anymore and they stopped being a package deal. 

He’s still kind of on top of Noel, and he seems to have just noticed this too. Liam shoves off and lays on his back, squeezing himself between Noel and the wall. 

“They were a bunch of weirdos anyway. You're better off.” 

It must’ve taken a lot of self restraint to settle on weirdos, Noel thinks. He remembers a very different description from a drunk Liam calling him in the middle of the night, before Noel stopped giving his Mam his hotel information. Noel doesn't say anything, just sighs and lays back down. 

They spend a few minutes side by side looking at the ceiling in silence, the window is open but it's so hot in the room it feels like he's suffocating. 

“You should go down, say hi to Mam and all,” Liam says eventually. “Mrs. Callaghan is here too, we ran into her coming in. Was watering the plants, dead nice, she is.” He continues. 

Noel doesn't want to see anybody. “Whatever, man,” Noel says, closing his eyes.

He feels Liam turns his face to look at him, silently considering. “Do you want me to come and get you when she's gone?” Liam asks. 

“Yes,” Noel replies petulantly, almost like he's not thirty years old and unemployed. Actually, exactly like he's thirty years old and unemployed. 

“Alright,” Liam says, and Noel can feel his eyes still on him. Can feel him expecting him, wanting him, to say more.

Noel says nothing. 

Eventually, Liam gets up. He grabs the fan that's facing his bed and turns it to face Noel’s.

On his way out he says. “It got too hot, man.” He points to his own head. With an almost shy smile.

***

Liam comes to get him about an hour later, Noel spent the past hour staring at the ceiling and got too focused on blinking and how often he should be blinking and then he got stuck either blinking too much or too little and spiraling a bit. 

He’s wet from the shower with only a towel around his waist. “Hey man, it's all clear if you wanna go down and see Mam,” His little brother says.

Liam’s at the small closet now, he considers a Beatles t-shirt, giving it a little sniff test. It seems fine by his standards, because the next thing he does is drop his towel and grab his jeans from earlier.

Noel’s suddenly filled by hot, blinding rage. Fucking twat. And here Noel was thinking he’s an actual adult now. He bolts upright in bed and heads to the bathroom. He doesn’t run, it’s a matter of pride.

He does a quick rinse in the shower, when he’s done he realizes he didn’t bring any clean clothes with him, so he puts on his disgusting clothes from earlier. This is also a matter of pride.

When Noel walks into the bedroom again Liam is at the dresser, he raises both brows at Noel and dabs some cologne. Kid’s fucking ridiculous. 

“Where you goin’? too early to get smashed. Even for you.” It's weak admittedly, but Noel’s only getting started. 

But Liam isn’t even looking at him. He takes his denim jacket in his hand and grabs his cigarette pack and leaves the room. What the fuck. 

Noel stews in the silence of the room for a few minutes and when he leaves he almost trips on his suitcase by the bedroom door. He doesn’t remember leaving it here, he gives it a weak kick in revenge.

His Mam’s alone when he finally makes his way downstairs. She's so happy to see him she's almost in tears. Looks heartbroken for him about the sacking and the getting dumped and the everything, really. She's an angel, his Mam. 

She also basically force feeds him his fish and tells him all the recent gossip. 

“Oh but that Kelly, pregnant with her brother-in-law's baby! That was quite the scandal,” She says. “I wish Liam was here, he knows all about it. Knew them both from the store, I think.” 

Noel hardly cares about neighborhood scandals or someone's secret love child but he's got nothing better to do. 

“What? The forbidden love affair happened while bagging groceries with our kid?” Noel asks, incredulously. 

“Don't you start slagging your brother off. It's a fine place, it is. Mr Gallagher takes care of our Liam, you know,” His Mam says.

Noel feels his cheeks turn pink. “I guess.”

“The sordid love affair happened after hours though, I believe,” His Mam adds. 

“And she's keeping it?” Noel asks, for lack of better conversation topics. 

“Oh yes, she's well far along the poor lass. Her whole family’s big in the church, you know.” 

They’re at the small dining table in the kitchen, Noel picking at his plate. He doesn't know what to say, he loves his Mam but he doesn't know how to talk to her. He can't tell her anything real about himself because she will worry herself to death. Can't tell her he's itching for a line. Can't tell her he feels suffocated in this house, always did. 

“I really thought your brother would be back by now,” She starts. “He asked me to cook him a million dishes for tea then left in a hurry.” She continues, her tone casual, but her eyes curiously searching his expression. 

When Noel doesn't say anything and keeps picking at his food, she says. “He tell you where he went?”

“No.” 

“Still strange for him to leave in a rush when you just came back.” 

Noel shrugs and stabs a pea with his fork. 

“Don't tell me you fought with your brother five minutes after you got here, Noelin.” 

Noel feels the nausea creep back. “I didn't say nothing to him,” He says quietly, looking down at what's left of his food. 

“Ah. That must be it then,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The fish tastes like cardboard in his mouth. He fights the urge to spit it out.

“Nothing,” She says. “He really missed you, you know.”

Noel doesn’t say anything, takes a napkin and spits the chewed up fish out.

“He didn’t have an easy time, with you gone.”

“Fuckin’ hell Mam, I’ve been moved out for ages,” It’s shit enough he has to be here, doesn’t need the guilt trip. “Even Paul hasn’t lived here in years. Why is he not getting the flak?”

“Well, you didn’t just move out, did you.” She says, getting up to gather their plates.

Noel stares at the table. Doesn’t meet her eyes.

She sighs, “you were always in a hurry over the phone, couldn’t say owt. Could I.” 

“He’s a grown man, Mam. You’ve got to stop babying him.”

She turns to look at him sharply from the sink. “You weren’t here to see him, Noel. So don’t even start. Cutting him off ‘cause you're, what? miffed?” 

“He was in a right state for months.” She adds, coming to stand next to him. “Not saying it’s your fault, yeah? Just be good to him.” 

Noel swallows thickly. I was being good to him. I am. He wants to say.

He nods, not trusting himself to speak.

***

Noel spends some time on the back porch chain smoking, it doesn't make him feel any better. He knows he can hit a few clubs in the city and score some good gear. But he can't bring himself to leave the house. He grabs a few beers and goes upstairs. 

It all feels familiar, being miserable and a bit buzzed in his old room. He plucks his guitar but even that doesn't really help. Because he keeps thinking about how he hasn't written a song of his own in years. Even shitty ones. He finally gives up and lays down, drifting in and out of sleep.

A few hours later he slowly opens his eyes to the stumbling figure in the dark. “Fuck. Shit.” Liam giggles, tripping on his own two feet. 

“Shut up,” Noel says, without much heat. A drunk Liam is already a lost cause. 

“Noel!” He giggles from the floor, seemingly surprised at Noel’s presence. 

“Noel!” He says again. 

Noel ignores him. He hears some shuffling and “Ow!” And then more giggles. 

It takes a moment but Liam eventually crawls his way up into Noel’s bed. He lays flush against Noel and sticks his face into Noel’s neck. This, too, feels familiar.

“Noely,” He whines. He keeps breathing in deep, like he's afraid Noel will disappear and the only way to save him is by sniffing him to death. 

“Get off me, Liam.” He tries to keep his tone even and strict. He almost succeeds, his voice barely cracks.

“Not gonna do nothing, man,” Liam says, into Noel's jugular. “Promise. Just this.” His voice is small and innocent, it plays with Noel’s resolve a little, he sounds like he did when he was a kid. 

Noel can't think of anything to say back, so he just squeezes his eyes shut, wills his stupid heartbeat to slow down, and at some point he thinks he falls asleep. 

***

Noel manages to sleep the next day until well into the afternoon. His muscles ache and his head is heavy, almost like it’s filled with water. 

He can’t hear any sound in the house so everyone must be out, still. He cracks open the window and lays back down, grabbing the cigarette pack from Liam’s bedside table.

He’s chain smoking again, he stares at his finger nails, black gunk caked underneath. He needs a plan.

Noel’s good for that. He’s always got a plan. Problem is, his last plan just blew up spectacularly in his face. He needs some blow first. 

He makes his way downstairs, cigarette almost burned to the filter still between his lips. He calls his old dealer. It rings and rings and rings. 

“Hullo?” It’s a woman’s voice.

“Hi. How are you,” he says. “Is Danny there?”

She sighs. “Sorry, love. He’s in the nick at the moment.” 

“Oh,” he says. “What for?”

“What is it you think?” She doesn’t sound friendly. 

“Sorry,” He says. Doesn’t know what for. Not like he reported the poor sod.

“Do us a favor and don’t call again, yeah?”

“That’s fair, innit.” She hangs up. 

He’s not sure what to do right now. Liam’s always been more of a weed and pills man. Made him all docile, like. He only did coke and the like with Noel or at parties. So he doesn’t have much faith in searching their room.

He picks through the address book on the table absently. It’s a lot of his Mam’s handwriting, neighbors and Irish cousins and the like. Finally, he comes across Liam’s chicken scrawl. It simply says. “Mark, for stuff.”

Bingo.

***

Mark had all sorts of stuff. Noel almost blows his entire two thousand pounds that the band gave him for the sacking on a shopping spree at Mark’s.

Noel respects his Mam so he only gets drunk late at night and gets high early in the morning, after she leaves for work and Liam finally drags himself to the store. 

It's unfathomable that anyone’s hired him, Noel thinks. But, it really is the best job for him, since he already wakes up at 5 am, the mad cunt.

Liam wakes up some days before Noel even went to bed, bright blue eyes blinking at him in the darkness, it’s straight out of a horror movie. He watches Noel blearily doing his lines on the nightstand, then gets up and goes about his day. 

It’s a nice routine, he doesn’t have to see them much and he never has to be sober. His stock lasts him a couple of weeks.

Noel is smoking a tiny joint in bed (Almost running out and he doesn't have enough for another shopping spree, does he?) when Liam walks back into their also tiny and now smoke-filled room.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Liam says, through the smoke. 

He's kind of giving him a pitiful look. It doesn't work since there's a giant coffee stain on the front of his shirt. He only left ten minutes ago, probably didn’t make it across the street. Clumsy idiot.

“Fuck off,” Noel says, despite his fond smile. He needs Liam to leave before he ruins his bliss. He always does, manages to piss him off with only a few words. 

Liam gets a clean shirt from the closet and keeps looking at Noel. “You gonna offer us some?” He asks. 

“Don't you have groceries to bag?” He means for it to be cutting but things are getting too hazy.

Liam snorts. “You're off your head, mate.” He considers Noel for a few seconds. “Do you want to come with?” He asks. 

“What, to your shite little store?” Noel closes his eyes, he can't keep looking at Liam unless he wants this to end up being a bad trip.

He can feel Liam’s intense gaze on him, like if he stares hard enough he will know every molecule in Noel’s body. As if he doesn't already.

“Yeah, Better than stewing in here,” Liam says. “It's not a big deal, you know what I mean.” His voice comes closer, like he's at the foot of the bed now. 

“Whatever job you have, it's just a job,” He says. 

Noel's been in this room and on this bed for approximately the entire time he's been back at Burnage. Unless he's picking up drugs or using the bathroom. He only came down to eat with them at the table a couple of times, after his Mam’s concerned pleas got to him.

“You know nothing, just a daft kid,” Noel says, voice small. 

After a beat he feels a weight on the mattress. “Not a kid. Almost twenty five,” Liam says, barely audible. 

Then, “Are you going back to Louise’s soon?” He asks, carefully. 

“Why would I go back to the bird who broke it off with me over the phone, Liam?” Noel replies. His brother really is thick. 

“Oh.” He hears.

Noel opens his eyes slowly, finds his little brother sitting by his legs, cheeks pink and mouth gaping like an idiot. 

“I didn't know that,” He says. “Thought you was here just to see Mam and all that.”

“Yeah well, it's not the news you go on announcing from the rooftops, is it?” 

“Thought you was gonna propose.” 

Noel doesn't say anything. He did tell Liam he’s gonna propose to Louise. He really was gonna do it, doesn't know why he kept delaying it, timing wasn't right, ring wasn't nice enough. He put off doing it for almost two years, until Louise snapped at him and said she wasn't gonna be over thirty with a boyfriend. And broke it off.

Liam eyes the poorly wrapped joint in his hand pathetically, bottom lip jutting out like he's been personally victimized by it. 

Noel holds out the joint for Liam, who just takes a drag straight from Noel’s hand, doe eyes never leaving Noel’s.

“Alright. Hey, how about this?” Liam says after a few greedy puffs, suddenly cheerful. 

“You wanna go out tonight? It's a Saturday.” He slaps Noel’s thigh for effect. “Get you proper sloshed and proper high.” His eyes are shimmering with excitement. This can't be a good idea if he's that into it. 

“Whatever,” Noel manages to say. It gets him a deep grin in return and Liam jumps to his feet. 

“Fantastic!” His pure joy is unnerving, really. “I’m done at about six. You wanna eat with Mam first then go?” Liam asks.

“Whatever.” Noel’s almost embarrassed by his limited vocabulary these days.

“Later, Noely G,” He says, slapping the doorframe on his way out.

***

Noel mopes about the rest of the day. Goes outside to smoke in the scorching heat for a bit, fixes himself a sandwich and picks at it until it's almost time for Liam to walk Mam back from work. He showers and brushes his teeth for the first time that day and goes back to lay in bed, he’s not that buzzed to go out, especially with Liam of all people, but he's sick of his room and this house.

He hears the front door open after a bit, he closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep. 

The footsteps on the stairs follow soon after. Christ, he's almost skipping. Liam comes into the room and starts shuffling around. Noel hears him fiddling with their old record player and then ‘Is It Really so Strange?’ comes in low over the speakers. 

So he can tell Noel is awake. 

He hears some more shuffling then the unmistakable sound of Liam throwing himself carelessly into his own bed. Noel opens his eyes slowly and turns on his side and sees his little brother’s looking at him, laying shirtless on his stomach with both arms under his pillow. Noel can't make himself look away, he’s being held hostage in Liam's gaze. 

Because it's them, it soon becomes apparent that whoever blinks first will lose. Lose what, Noel is unsure. 

They stare adamantly at each other, daring the other to blink. While Morrissey drones in the background. 

How can someone so young sing words so sad? 

Liam blinks first and turns his face into his pillow, groaning in frustration. “You’re a freak,” He says, his voice muffled, back muscles straining. 

“You're one to talk,” Noel replies.

Liam lifts his head and turns to Noel again. He's biting his lip like he's holding himself back from saying something stupid or something that will piss Noel off. Probably both. 

Morrissey keeps moaning over the speakers while his menace of a little brother keeps blinking at him. 

And he swore that he’ll never, never do it again. 

Noel puts him out of his misery and turns to face the wall. 

They eat downstairs with Mam and she fills the silence with neighborhood gossip and work stories. 

When she announces she's off to bed they tell her good night and wordlessly head to the front door, both putting their shoes on and stepping out. Noel decidedly avoids eye contact, he doesn't know what Liam is doing. Since he's not looking at him.

He’s so tense that it's poisoning the air around them, Liam is making light conversation and Noel’s stomach is in knots and he can’t open his mouth, because if he does he’s going to ruin it as usual. 

How are they supposed to be normal brothers on a night out? He doesn't know what that looks like anymore. He’s been out with Liam hundreds of times, right until the end.

He thought if he gave it some time, Noel would come back one day and all will be well. Liam would’ve stopped thinking nonsense, he’d meet a nice girl and then cheat on her with several other nice girls. Then they could go to the pub and have a pint.

They walk for about five minutes before Liam finally breaks. “Fuckin’ hell, man,” He says through gritted teeth, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk and spinning to face Noel. 

“If you don't act normal I’m going to choke you,” Liam says, actually squaring up for a fight in the middle of the street. “Are you plotting to kill me or summat?” His eyes are twitching and he’s so worked up he's spitting all over Noel’s face. 

“I’m too old to go to prison for fraticide,” Noel answers. 

“Fra-? Fucking what?” Liam’s eyes are all wide and he's got his arms out like Noel’s a spooked animal, now. 

“Are we still brothers, Noel?” He asks. He's always been brave, Noel’s little brother. 

“I don't care about anything else right now. Can we just be brothers again?” Liam says, dropping his arms, his bottom lip jutting out.

He's always been the bigger man, Noel hates him for it. He's never afraid of anything, his Liam. Never afraid of facing the truth head on and showing it who's in charge, even if it rips him and everyone else apart. 

Crybaby. Noel holds back. He can feel his hands shaking and his heart has swelled up and it's rattling around his chest, trying to escape this conversation. Christ. He might be the one dying tonight. 

“We’re still brothers,” Noel finally says, voice small. He's staring at the cracked sidewalk, wishing it would open up and swallow him whole. 

“Yeah?” Liam says, sounding unsure.

Noel makes an effort to look up. “Yeah… Liam,” He says. “You could drain my blood on this street and you’ll still be my brother,” Noel half jokes. Liam could really tear him from limb to limb and Noel wouldn't want to have it any other way. 

Liam laughs at that, immediately satisfied. The sound warms Noel from the inside, he can't help but smile, a real smile. 

That seems to satisfy Liam even more, he looks outright giddy and throws his arms around Noel in a body crushing hug. Noel’s breath oofs out of his chest and he laughs. 

“Doesn't mean you’re actually allowed to kill me, kid,” He says, right into Liam’s ear.

“You're alright,” He says, ruffling Noel’s hair. 

He sounds so sure of it, like he knows it for a fact. Noel almost believes it.

***

They're having a good time. The pub is not too crowded, but there's a lot of people Noel knows who seem excited to see him and ask about him, which is not exciting to Noel at all, the answering part. But Liam stays by his side the whole night and even manages to change the subject a few times when the line of questioning gets to so are you gonna go back on tour soon territory. 

Then there are the people Noel doesn't know, and Liam does. 

They’re sitting in a corner booth, and somehow it seems like Liam is the center of the room. Boys and girls of all ages all wave at him when they walk in, some of them come say hi and chat for a few minutes. 

Liam is sitting across from him. Hair too short, five o’clock shadow making him look less the boy he is and more like a man. He talks animatedly to some girls who are standing over their booth. Liam tells a story about a drunk customer he had to kick out or summat, they all almost fall over themselves laughing. It's not really that funny. 

A couple of mates of Liam’s come join them a couple of hours later. Liam introduces them, Stonehead and whatever their names were. 

“This is our kid, Noel,” He says. He raises his eyebrows at them. They all nod knowingly and go to pat Noel’s back and shake his hand. 

Noel catches Liam’s eyes and raises an eyebrow. Liam shrugs. 

The beer is good and every time Liam catches him with his pint glass empty he orders another round for the table. He gets into a screaming match with one of the lads who's a Man U fan, which spurs Noel into yelling at the guy and calling his mother colorful names. Which sends Liam over laughing. 

He seems dead happy, cheeks pink with booze and when he quiets down he looks at Noel with shiny eyes. Noel feels so much affection for his little brother he wants to flip the table. 

That affection only gets stronger when Liam kicks his foot under the table and motions his head in the direction of the bogs, patting his front jacket pocket and wiggling his eyebrows. 

They stumble to the men’s room, almost tripping on each other. The bloke at the sinks eyes them suspiciously when they crowed into one stall together. 

Liam locks the door and pulls a little baggie from his pocket and even does jazz hands for show. 

Noel chuckles, this is a nice image. He leans back against the door. “Go on, cut us a line,” Noel says. Liam raises his eyebrows, he rarely gets the honor. 

He starts cutting messy little lines on the toilet lid, pulls a credit card and tries to fix them with uncoordinated hands. Noel only stares, it's nice when Liam isn't looking back. He gets his fill, stares at his chubby fingers, his tense sharp jaw and his tongue poking out a little in concentration. It's unfair, how pretty Liam can be drunk and on his knees in a disgusting public bog. 

Liam rolls a note and turns to Noel, motioning a c’mere at him. 

Noel kneels down next to him and does a couple of lines. They hit so fast he throws himself on his back on the dingy floor, when he’s done. 

Liam swims in his vision, snorting one line and pocketing the rest of the baggie and giggling at Noel's twitching limbs on the floor. 

“Come on, old man.” Liam jumps to his feet, energized with burning fire in his eyes. “You’re not gonna waste my hard earned blow on your back,” He says, hauling Noel to his feet. 

Liam half carries Noel back to their table, both clearly off their heads. Liam shoves Noel into the booth and slides in next to him.

They go back to arguing about football, with new found enthusiasm. Liam’s thigh warm against his. Noel feels satiated and good, for the first time in a while. 

He started to have some bad trips this year. But this is good. His heart is beating like it's excited and not like he's gonna die. 

The table only kept getting rowdier and rowdier and eventually it's last call and they start to shuffle out. 

“You fellas need a ride?” One of the blokes says to them. The idea of walking home makes Noel’s already spinning head take a few unpleasant turns. He loves this guy. 

Liam has his arm around Noel’s shoulder. “Nah we’re good,” he answers. “You up for a walk, our kid?”

Noel pukes all over his shoes. 

***

Guigs is a gentleman and drives them home anyway. With Noel slumped over the backseat and Liam barefoot in the front. 

The radio plays quietly. Noel's vision swims, he’s sobered up a bit and can feel himself coming down.

The car stops and Liam gets out and opens Noel’s door for him and has to quite literally drag him out. He waves goodbye to Guigsey and helps Noel all the way upstairs. 

“I did promise to get you proper sloshed, didn't I?” He says, laying Noel on his bed gently and taking off his shoes. “You didn't have to ruin me shoes though,” He adds. 

Noel giggles at that. Liam grins at him. 

“I’ll get me new shoes, and then I’ll get you new shoes,” Liam says with a fond smile. 

He puts his hand on the hem of Noel’s shirt then stops. “Do you want to change?” He asks, carefully. 

“I’m okay,” Noel says, he tries for a reassuring smile. They're okay.

Liam smiles back at him, and squeezes his shoulder. “Good night.” 

“Hmm. Night,” Noel says, eyes already closing. Liam gets up after a moment and then Noel can hear water running in the bathroom. 

Noel doesn't think of anything while trying to fall asleep. He feels good and warm and happy. Knows he's gonna wake up to a shitty hangover tomorrow. So he's trying to soak up his last moments of freedom. 

Liam comes back and Noel can hear him getting changed for bed. He can feel him stop in the middle of the room, eyes considering Noel. 

Noel can see him through his lashes in the dark, he pads gently to Noel’s bed, looks pensive and unsure. 

He wants to wipe that look from Liam’s face. Wants to stand up and grab his face in his hands and smooth the lines between his brows. Wants to push him away and scream. Wants to pull him down to bed, hold him close until they melt together. Until they’re one and he doesn’t know where he begins and where Liam ends.

It’s only for a second, but Liam leans down and then he feels soft lips on his cheek. All gentle, like. Noel’s vision blurs. 

Liam sighs, content. Then goes to his own bed. 

***

Noel’s smoking on the front door steps when he hears the weak motor get closer. The figure looming in the distance speeds through their street, he’s going as fast as the little moped can go which is admittedly not much, but all the same he comes hurtling through the gate, avoiding crashing into the fence at the last minute. It’s fucking ridiculous, Noel bursts out laughing.

He kills the engine and takes off his helmet. He tops it all by swaggering off the little scooter, like he thinks it’s dead cool.

Noel is howling with laughter now. He’s laughing so hard he’s clutching at his sides.

Liam taps his foot on the ground, all serious like.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing!” Noel chokes out between giggles.

He scrunches his eyebrows at Noel. “Nothing to laugh about man. She’s a good girl, she is. Takes us everywhere.”

Noel tries to half suppress his snicker but it’s impossible. Kid’s unbelievable. It’s a she.

Liam is indignant, He goes to move past him and through the front door. Noel grabs his leg, giggles finally subsiding. 

“Not laughing at you!” he says, hugging Liam’s leg closer. “Just surprised, that's all!”

Liam looks down at him, mouth twisted. Noel looks up at him with his most angelic expression.

Noel can see it working, the gears in Liam’s head turning. He's weighing his options, if it’s worth it to get in a strop right now or just give up on it for the sake of sitting out here with Noel. See, Liam’s not the only Gallagher with charm. He finally sighs and sits down next to Noel on the steps, taking his abandoned cigarette from his hand. 

“I’m getting me a car, soon,” he says

Noel snorts. “You don’t even have a license.”

Liam moves his hand in so-so motion. “Details.”

“And then there’s the other less important detail. You being skint and all.”

Liam is quiet for a moment, he takes a long drag on his cigarette. It’s almost down to the filter.

“I’m not skint.” 

Noel turns his body to face him, he looks serious. Not bragging or anything, just stating a fact.

“How so?”

“Been working for years man.” He’s quiet for a moment. Noel waits for him.

“A while back I kind of lost me head, right?” his tone is carefully neutral, it’s so strange that it makes Noel dizzy, it’s like someone else is wearing his brother’s skin.

“It was pathetic.” He grimaces. “But then Mam got me all sorted, yeah? Had to smack me around for a bit to get it together. But then after a bit I just could do it on me own.”

“Tell me.” Noel’s body itches, he doesn’t want to hear this. But he couldn’t stop himself.

“Nothing to tell. Just had to keep me head up, one foot in front of the other. That sort of thing.” Liam shrugs. 

“And then what? You won the lottery?”

Liam laughs, “I wish! She wouldn’t let me spend me own money! Made me put half in the bank, every month!”

“And you left it alone? A bit hard to believe, mate.” Noel’s picking at a hole on his knee. 

“I’m just not good at that stuff, am I? Just need a few quids in me pocket.” 

Noel lights a cigarette and hands the rest of the pack to Liam. It's his anyway.

They smoke in silence for a bit. 

“You do anything today?”

“Sure,” Noel says. He stayed in bed up until like thirty minutes ago.

“Oh? Like what?”

Noel shrugs. Liam stubs out his cigarette on the steps. 

“You wanna go out?”

“Not really.”

“We’re all going to this gig later. Local band.” He's drumming his fingers on his leg. 

Noel looks away. “Not in the mood to be around your annoying mates, am I.”

He gets up and goes inside, not waiting for an answer.

***

It takes a truly depressing visit to an ATM machine for Noel to decide to start looking for a job. The heat is slowly becoming unbearable, his shirt is sticking to his back with sweat. 

He sees the sign across the street, white text on a bright green background. Gallagher’s grocers. 

He needs some cigarettes and probably a newspaper, to start the job search. 

Noel walks in the automatic doors, and gets hit in the face with the blissful air conditioner. The place is as he remembers, tiny with haphazard and unorganized shelves shoved too close together, hardly any space to walk in between.

His little brother is a sight to behold, sitting behind the cash register with his head resting on his folded arms, fast asleep.

Noel heads to the back and grabs a can of coke, heads to the register and reaches behind to get himself a pack of cigarettes and a newspaper from the stand outside. 

He's not trying to be quiet at all, so it's a bit funny how blissfully unaware Liam is. Noel feels a little proud of him. The semi well adjusted adult he's been sharing a room with and resenting this past month turns out to be only an act. 

Noel rolls the newspaper in his hand and smacks Liam gently on the back of his head. He's rewarded with Liam jolting awake and almost falling from his stool in shock, knocking a carton of gum over in the process. Noel laughs so much his sides hurt.

When he realizes what's happening Liam stands up, squaring his shoulders. He’s very obviously embarrassed, red faced and breathing sharply from his nose and Noel can visibly see him fight the urge to wring his big brother's neck. “You're a sadistic twat.” He says finally. 

“Sleeping on the job, our kid?” Noel grins. “What if I had emptied the register and just walked out?”

Liam seems unimpressed, mouth twisted and eyebrows scrunched. “Go on, do it. See if I give a fuck,” Liam huffs at him. 

He looks at the things Noel had scavenged sitting on the table. Looks up at Noel, and starts scanning them. 

“Well, I just had to see for meself what you were like on the job. I have to give it to you Liam. This is a sweet gig, if it lets you sleep in the middle of the day.”

Liam finishes scanning his stuff, pulls a tenner out of his own wallet and puts it in the register, giving himself his change back. “Yeah well, don't get much sleep do I. If I’m drinking with you all night.” 

He gives Noel his coke and newspaper, and opens the cigarette pack and takes one out. Lighting it from one of the new lighters in the Bic carton on the table, putting it back when he's done. 

They’ve been making a habit out of it. Getting hammered almost every night. Most of the time they don't reach the pub, grabbing a couple of six packs and heading to the park or drinking while watching the telly. Noel's officially turned into a bum. 

Liam, for his credit, doesn't say anything. Goes along with whatever Noel wants to do that night, then half carries him to bed and wakes up at the crack of dawn to go to work. 

Noel takes a cigarette out, reaches for the same lighter and returns it to the carton when he's done. “Not my fault, man,” He says. “You're the one tagging along.”

Noel hit a few clubs alone in the city, got so smashed last time he tried to get off with a bloke that smelled bad and was dead ugly. Noel got so disheartened looking at him his prick went limp in the guy’s mouth. So he's never doing any of that again.

Liam rolls his eyes and takes a drag from his cigarette. “You should come work here,” He says. “The girl who does the stock is on maternity leave, it's all a mess now. I ‘ave no idea what she used to do.” Liam motions to the shelves behind Noel. 

“Kelly’s had the forbidden love child, then?” Noel asks, lips twitching. 

Liam laughs in surprise. Eyes shining. “How d’you know about that?” He asks. “Yeah, she had a boy just last week. Husband and brother in law both at the birth, apparently,” Liam says, wiggling his brows conspiratorially. 

“That's gonna be one messed up kid,” Noel says, grabbing his plastic bag. 

Liam shakes his head “She's a good one, Kells is. ‘S Not her fault, is it.” 

“How is sleeping with her brother in law not her fault? Unless the poor girl was drugged,” Noel says. 

Liam eyes him for a beat then shrugs. “He's well fit, you know... the brother.” 

It's innocent enough to say. But suddenly the room feels too small and like it's closing in on them. Noel’s not sure how they're both getting enough air in to breathe. It almost swallows them whole.

“Sure,” Noel blurts out. “See ya.”

He doesn't run out. It's a brisk walk at most. 

***

Noel finds three ads in the paper that seem to fit his skills, which are the following: Music, getting drunk, and laying brick.

Noel's definitely not going back to construction, he could barely do it in his early twenties and even then he ended up shattering his foot. 

That leaves a local band that's looking for a lead guitarist (he's not optimistic about the pay) and bartender. 

He's never bartended before but how hard can it be to pour drinks? He pours drinks to himself everyday. Doesn't spill a drop even off his arse. 

He calls the number on the band’s ad first, they tell him to come in after dinner. They actually have a decent rehearsal space and a record deal. Noel starts feeling optimistic when they start jamming together and it's going well. 

“You write anything yourself?” Their lead singer asks. “We're in desperate need of a good songwriter, label’s expecting half a dozen new songs by the end of summer.” 

Noel mulls this over. He hasn't written much in ages. And all his old stuff he’s never played in front of an audience before, only Liam. And that’s only ‘cause he was right there when Noel wrote them.

“Not really, no,” Noel says. He can tell this puts a damper on the rest of the jam session. They tell him they'll call him, he doesn't think they will. 

Noel puts the whole ordeal out of his mind. Finds a phone booth and calls the pub’s number from the paper to ask about the bartender job. A cheerful girl on the line tells him “Sorry! We’ve just hired somebody.” He hangs up on her.

***

It's not even 3 pm when Noel gets home. His feet are sore and his shirt soaked in sweat. His night’s already ruined. 

He could have a meal and shower, but he's in a bad mood and he feels like shite. He grabs a bottle of vodka from the freezer and takes a few gulps before climbing up the stairs. 

He's got nothing good at home, doesn't want to waste what little money he has left on blow. So he starts pulling Liam’s clothes and searching his pockets, he finds nothing in his closet. Goes to look in his laundry, nothing. 

He starts to rummage through Liam’s bedside table, he finds loose change, a pack of condoms, and some photos.

Him and Noel, as kids with Mam, and then a few more recent ones: Liam a bit drunk leaning over to kiss him on the cheek, seemingly innocent. One with Noel standing behind him with his arms around his shoulders, squeezing him playfully. A few in Noel’s early days with the Inspiral Carpets, when he used to drag Liam to local gigs. There are other photos, Liam with his mates in pubs, with some girls Noel doesn't recognize. And one where Liam is leaning over a mic stand. 

Noel puts the photos back in the same order he found them. And shuts the drawer.

If he were Liam, what's the first place he would think to hide drugs in. Preferably somewhere Mam would never check. 

Ah, of course. Noel thinks. Kneeling down to look under the bed. He pulls a couple of magazines out. Pretty tame stuff. A few playboys and the like. And surely enough one of the magazines has a considerable bulge inside it, he opens it and lo, and behold, Noel is blessed with a small ziplock bag filled to the brim with white powder. Another magazine has a few loose pills shoved between a brunette's tits. His brother is a genius and Noel loves him. 

***

Noel’s got a sweet little thing going on in this little bathroom, a few empty bottles by his feet, a smattering of white residue left on the toilet led, and he feels good. His vision swims and he feels sparks all over his body. 

He doesn't know how long he's been in the bathroom, but when he feels like he's coming down he does a new line, and chugs down the vodka. 

Noel's been doing this his whole adult life, he thinks. A cycle of getting high and getting drunk. The only difference is he used to do this with his mates in new shiny cities. Now he's in his family’s one shared bathroom, skint and barely has any functional adult relationships left. 

He can feel himself crashing, fast. He can't help but follow this line of thought. He's always been a lazy fucker. No one is going to hire him, since he's spent the last decade high off his arse. And even if he does get a job, the idea of spending the rest of his life bartending in his hometown or God forbid going back to work a construction job fills him with even more dread. 

Who's he kidding anyway, he's ruined the best job he's ever had by being lazy and replaceable, he's ruined his own finances, he's ruined his own relationship and now he has to live with his Mam and Liam. 

Liam. He's ruined Liam most of all. God he's such a selfish fucker. Liam is almost twenty five and he's got no potential, living with his Mam voluntarily. And still working the same job he's worked on and off since he was a teenager. 

He remembers Liam being a fireball, he could've been anyone, he could've gone anywhere. Before Noel got his claws into him. 

Soon enough, his throat feels tight and his lungs too small, his breaths coming in short and very very fast, he can feel the dread seeping into his bones and taking shelter there. He tries to take big gulps of air but none of it is coming in. He's going to die. 

He's on his back thrashing, eyes squeezed shut. He hopes it doesn't hurt much. 

No no no no. Noel doesn't want to die, not yet. He’d rather live even useless and twisted. 

No no no, Noel please. Noel hears himself. His voice coming almost outside of his own body. It must be happening then. His soul is out of his body. 

Noel has never died before, but he's surprised to find out death feels a lot like chubby fingers reaching down his throat until he gags and empties his stomach. He feels a rough hand slapping him on his back a few times. Then he's gone. 

***

Noel wakes to the rancid smell of puke. He feels cold sweat all over his body. He doesn't want to open his eyes. 

He feels a steady breath fanning over his face. Lips moving all over his forehead and hair. “You're okay,” Liam whispers, repeatedly. Voice small and scared. 

He blinks his eyes open slowly. Liam’s got him cradled against his chest, one arm under his shoulders, supporting his head, the other resting on his chest, over his heart. When Noel tries to move he feels Liam’s grip get firmer. Like it's not up to Noel. 

Liam pushes back a little so he can look Noel in the eyes. His mouth is twisted and there are dried tear tracks on his face. He opens his mouth to say something and only a choked sob comes out. 

Noel’s throat tastes disgusting and feels like something sinister crawled out from his body and out of his mouth. He knows he looks worse. Cold sweat and sick all over his face. 

He gives up. Buries his face in Liam’s chest and groans. They sit there for a while. Liam’s panicked heartbeat finally slows. He's barely crying anymore. 

“Do you hate me?” Noel whispers into his neck. 

He vaguely remembers Liam’s face, eyes wild and broken when he told him “It's done.”

Liam had tried everything, said anything, to make him stay. Noel had made his decision. 

“You're daft if you thought this was gonna work,” Noel said. “We should've grown out of it ages ago.” Liam bristled at that. 

He screamed like a wounded animal and grabbed at Noel, they were on the floor in seconds fighting like alley cats. Liam barely landed hits, trembling all over.

“You're a fucking child, Liam.” Noel grabbed at his hair and turned him over, pushing his face on the floor. “I was just bored. You would've done anything I told you.” He spits. 

Liam snarled at him and tried to sit up to shove him off. Noel pulled him by the hair and smashed his forehead on the floor. 

“You’re a fucking liar,” he screamed.

“It's true. I just fucking played you didn't I? And you were naive enough to go with it. It's fucking sick.” 

Liam thrashed around until he threw Noel off his back. Noel braced himself but nothing ever came his way. Instead, Liam sat on the floor with his face hidden behind his knees, holding back gut wrenching sobs. 

Noel stood up, slung his duffle bag over his shoulder and gave Liam one last look. Liam looked back up finally. “I fucking hate you,” he said, defeated. 

Noel left. 

Now, Liam pulls back, looks at Noel in confusion. He reaches his arm over to the side and grabs a damp towel, starts patting Noel’s face clean. Rubbing it on his forehead and over his mouth. Noel closes his eyes.

“What for?” His tone is even and quiet. 

“Dunno. Everything,” Noel barely croaks. His throat hurts. “Using your coke, not calling,” he adds. 

“You found my stash?” Liam almost smiles. Like he's impressed Noel knows him so well. 

“Hurting you,” Noel finally says, voice weak. He wanted to spit it out at Liam. Be done with it. Receive his judgment and sentence. Maybe it's why he didn't die, he still has to pay for this in life so he can pay for it in death. 

“Look at you,” Liam says. “You think you can hurt me? With all five feet of you?” He gives him a little shake. As if to illustrate how tiny he thinks Noel is. 

For some reason this pisses Noel off so much he gets a rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins. “Oh you fuck.” He tries to violently throw Liam off. 

“Calm down!” Liam adjusts his grip some more, turning his face away from Noel’s hands, scrabbling at him. 

Noel keeps trying to get away from him, tries to land a hit on him at least. He stops abruptly when he starts feeling sick again. Pushes at Liam in earnest until Liam understands and helps him lean over the toilet. 

He only dry heaves for a bit, his stomach empty. But it hurts like a bitch. 

Liam gets up and fills a glass with water from the sink, helps Noel take a few gulps. He leans with his back on the tub and legs on either side of Noel, pulling him back towards his chest. Noel groans in pain and misery. 

“You're alright,” Liam says. Pushing Noel’s bangs back off his forehead, forcing Noel to lean deeper into him. 

“It was only a bit of a panic attack, that,” Noel says after a while. They've been happening more and more.

“You mean you freaked out? No, man,” Liam says. “Didn't look like a bad trip. Had me dead scared, you did.” 

“Did Mam come home with you?” Noel manages to say. He would rather actually die than have her find him like this. He would spend his entire life, unable to forget the look on her face if she was the one to find him. 

“Nah, just me,” Liam says. He's still petting Noel’s hair, it's nice. Noel allows himself to lean back, closing his eyes again. “‘S Only five. Have to go walk her home in a bit.”

“You’ve never hurt me, Noely,” Liam says after a while, all soft. “I’ve never been anywhere I didn't want to be.” 

Noel remembers a time when the roles were reversed, when Noel would be the one to soothe little Liam and talk to him in a gentle voice after Dad had a fit at Noel or his Mam. 

Noel knows nothing he says will make its way into Liam's thick skull. He finds Liam's other hand on the floor, and just holds it. He's still wearing his Claddagh ring. Liam cards their fingers together. 

“I did. Before, during, after,” Noel says.

“Same as me, then.”

“I was older. Should've known better.”

There is no part of him that won't feel this way. It's not shame, no. He's not ashamed. It's something unnamable, it itches and scratches at him all the time, he's never free. 

He wishes he knew the real answer. If Liam really had never been somewhere he didn't want to be. Doesn't matter that Liam said he wanted it, was technically old enough to be doing it with anybody. Why did he want it with Noel? He could never comprehend. 

Liam has always been cooler than him, always had more mates and more girlfriends and more interesting stories. Why is it that he would always give that up, to hang out with Noel, to sit with Noel in their tiny little room and listen to Noel’s shite songs and play his shite records and smoke his shite cigarettes.

Go on, kid. The whole world wants you. But I want you. He’d say.

Liam seems to consider this. Hums quietly. Lifting their joint hands up to his face and kissing the back of Noel's.

He doesn't know how they became so entangled. But he knows that one day he looked at Liam and knew he would never actually have him. He needed to let him go. He was wasting his time. 

It was so addicting, knowing he's the center of Liam’s universe. Liam who had everyone falling at his feet, who was always the favorite, he preferred Noel. 

Noel didn't believe in God, but Liam believed they were made for each other, connected by something greater and bigger than being brothers. 

But what is greater and bigger than being brothers? Noel doesn't know. 

Noel closes his eyes. He's so unfair, here Noel is, pouring his heart out after an almost-almost near death experience, confessing his biggest sins and Liam quite literally couldn't care less. 

“Maybe...” Liam says after a bit. Noel's stomach sinks, he doesn't want to know the end of that sentence. He keeps his eyes squeezed shut. 

“Maybe you should've known better. I dunno.” He says, “So what now?” 

Noel twists to fully face him, sitting on his knees between Liam's legs. “What?” Noel gapes at him, incredulous. 

“I dunno. Maybe you are evil and ruined me or whatever. What are ya gonna do about it now?” He doesn't wait for Noel to respond, he pulls him closer by the shoulders and kisses him chastely. Right on his disgusting face. 

Noel starts squirming to get out of his grip again but Liam only holds him firm, running his hands up and down Noel’s shoulders. 

Noel doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know what he's gonna do about it, he doesn't know what now but he does know that his legs are begging him to run out of the bathroom, purely on instinct. 

Eventually, he gives up and goes limp, head falling on Liam’s shoulder. His vision is blurry.

“No really, you've taken away my innocence and all,” Liam says against his ear. “How are you gonna pay us back now, Noel Gallagher.” Liam pulls him even closer, “I got a few ideas, me.” He turns his head and starts mouthing over Noel’s jaw, drags his lips across Noel’s face. 

He's disgusting, Noel’s little brother. 

“Fuck you,” Noel says weakly, he doesn't have the energy for this. He lets Liam kiss him all over his face, on his cheeks and his forehead and his nose. 

Noel’s been trying to understand how his brother's brain works for nearly twenty five years now. He doesn't think he's gonna start today. 

Liam eventually stops, pulls Noel’s head back by the short hairs on the back of his head. He gives Noel a serious look, lips pursed and eyebrows in a knot. 

“I was dead worried, man.” Liam says, “Thought you was really kicking it.” 

“Yeah.” Noel sighs, “Me too.” 

“What happened? you do too much?” He asks. 

Noel shakes his head. “No, I just think the old body’s packed it in. Can't handle that stuff no more.” 

“Bummer,” Liam says.

“Yeah,” Noel tells him. 

***

Being skint really makes kicking a drug habit easier. Can't slip up, unless Noel is willing to ask his little brother for money. Noel would rather chop off his own tongue and eat it. 

They went back to normal now. Well, their new normal at least. Now that Noel is not almost-almost dying on the bathroom floor. That's the one where you think you're dying but it turns out your brain just hates you. 

He feels like pure shit, tells his Mam he's coming down with something when she finds him sweating and thrashing on his bed on the first day. She frets over him and makes him soup even though he can't keep anything down.

Liam stays with him for a couple of days, gives him plenty of space except when he hovers over him in their room and checks his pulse every ten minutes, it feels like.

He's been doing less and less the last couple of months, so overall it's not too bad.

When he starts feeling like a person again, he showers and cleans their room. It's a disgusting mess of dirty clothes and towels, he spends all morning wiping every surface he can reach then when he's done he folds all their clothes and reorganizes the closet and alphabetizes their record collection (a bit of a wasted effort since they're stored in crates on the floor.)

It makes him feel better than he's felt the last he doesn't know how long. He lays down on the clean floor and listens to Revolver until Liam comes to get him for tea.

He almost stumbles on his Mam’s suitcases sitting at the foot of the stairs. Right. She's leaving for Ireland tomorrow, staying there for the rest of the summer. 

Noel’s a bit exhausted after his spurt of productivity so he’s zoned out when Mam nudges him. “What?” Noel blinks at her. 

“Are you quite alright, love?” She says. 

“I’m fine.” She raises an eyebrow. “Swear down,” Noel says, digging into his potatoes with enthusiasm to showcase how healthy he is.

Obviously he's not very convincing because she says, “I could stay, you know. I still think you should see a doctor.” She scrunches her face in worry.

“He's sound. Aren't ya, Our kid?” Liam says around his fork. “He was running around the house all morning, cleaning and all that.”

“Oh, Liam… It's nice of you to stay home when your brother's not feeling well,” She says smiling warmly at Liam. “Nice to see you two getting along.”

So, Noel kicks a drug habit and it's Liam that's getting celebrated? Liam smiles shyly at her, almost purring at the praise. 

“Mam, he was doing fuck all. Just sleeping all day while I almost met my maker.” Noel says eyeing Liam. “Just wanted to get off work, the twat.” 

Liam laughs at that and sticks his tongue out at Noel. It’s really kind of impressive how quickly Liam can get on his nerves, Noel reasons himself out of flipping the dining table. He only throws a roasted potato at him. He dodges and giggles even harder. 

Liam is saved by the phone ringing. And when it looks like no one is getting up to answer it, both of them blinking owlishly at Noel. He sighs exasperatedly and walks over to the sitting room and picks the receiver up. 

“Hello?” Noel says. 

He hears the unmistakable sound of an extremely old person breathing. “Ah, little Noelin. Is that you?” 

“It's me, Mr Gallagher. How are you?” Noel huffs, peering across the room into the kitchen door, trying to find Liam and kill him with his mind alone. 

He hears Mr Gallagher (no blood relation) shuffling, there's a lot of white noise coming in through the receiver, and a lot of Old Person ragged breaths.

“Good, good. Listen, is a lad like you interested in a job?” He says, trying to sound casual. 

Noel's not sure who exactly put him up to this. His Mam who’s probably worried he’ll live in this house forever, or Liam who does actually want him to live in this house forever. It could be both to be fair. They just don't realize they're working against each other. 

“You see, Our Kelly’s busy with the baby and all so she's not sure when she’s coming back,” Mr Gallagher (no blood relation) says. 

“How busy can she be, kid has two dads. Aren't his uncle-father and uncle-stepfather stepping up?” Noel asks, amusedly. 

Mr Gallagher laughs. “Ah, well. Family's complicated. Innit?” 

“Yeah,” Noel agrees with a smile. Tell me about it, he wants to say. 

“It's decided then. I’ll come tomorrow and help Liam show you the ropes. It’ll be good fun,” Mr Gallagher (no blood relation, no, really) says. 

“See you tomorrow,” Noel says, putting the receiver down. 

***

For all the huffing and puffing he did on his way here, working in the store doesn't seem so bad. It's quiet most of the day, and only got busy in the afternoon and right before closing, with people coming in to get their groceries after work. 

Liam is to come an hour earlier and open, and Noel is to stay an hour later to close. Supposedly this is how he and Kelly did it, and how Mr Gallagher wants them to do it.

“Don't mind the geezer,” Liam says that first day when the old man leaves. “Me and Kelly used to do all sorts of things. Cover for each other and the like. You can do what you want, just tell me first.” He tells him. 

Noel's a bit surprised at that. “You really like this place, don't you?” He asks, when they're walking back home together. Liam stayed to show him how to close. 

“‘S just a job, innit?” Liam says, smacking his gum. “Everyone is good to me, and I get to do fuck all all day. And it's a job you can do ‘angin.” 

“Seems a bit boring, though,” Noel tells him.

They're walking on their street, their little council house right at the end of it, a few minutes away. Noel turns right through a side street, some shops are closing and a few people are walking back from work, it looks like. Liam follows him. 

“It is boring, that's the beauty of it, like,” Liam replies. “I can just sit there and put me music on and kind of not be there. D’you know what I mean?” 

“Like you zone out? What if someone needs help,” Noel asks, he leads them to walk through the park. 

It's empty, this time of day. All the little kids just went home for tea. 

“No, not like that. Like, just being there. Without thinking. I can do that stuff with me eyes closed, right. But I’m not thinking about it or anything,” Liam answers. Stopping and sitting on one of the swings. Not moving. 

Noel is standing behind him, he pushes slightly at his back. The swing barely moves. “You not thinking, eh? Not quite shocking, is it,” Noel teases. 

Liam turns his head to look up at Noel from underneath his eyelashes. “Fuck off,” He says, without heat. 

Noel puts his hands on his shoulders, looking down at him. His hair has grown out a little, but it's still too short. He's shaved just this morning and there's a little razor burn on his jaw. It makes him look younger, like his Liam. His baby brother. It plays with his heartstrings a bit, he’s just a boy. He’ll always be a boy. He’ll be fifty and still just be Noel’s little brother. 

And he's looking up at Noel all hopeful like, with his bright blue eyes, unmatched by anyone's. Eyes that always were able to see right past Noel’s, and see straight into his soul. 

Liam squints at him a bit then nods to himself, like he's reached the depths of Noel now and he's picked up his spirit, saw what it was all about and put it back in its place, dusting his hands off and going alright then. 

Liam knows what he's made of, always known, and he understands it. 

He finally smiles up at Noel, his little dimple on display. 

Noel closes his eyes and leans down to kiss him.