The first time he had been drunk.
He remembered stumbling into the flat, and he was pretty sure he had been singing, but what he couldn't remember. He had been expecting Howard's angry face to greet him when he walked into their room, and once again had actually been looking forward to the yelling match. He liked making Howard angry, liked the way his face scrunched up and his little eyes shone with passionate anger, even if the reason for the fight was just some spilled tea.
He remembered falling on his arse as he tried to figure out how exactly that strange invention the door was meant to be used, and then looking up into the expected angry face. But then something had changed, because Howard didn't usually stumble about when berating him.
He also couldn't remember there being so many empty bottles in their room when he had left earlier.
Then Howard's hands closed around his arms, and he tried to yank him up. It took him two seconds to decide he wasn't having any of that and to pull Howard down onto his little kingdom of floor. If Howard was about to yell, he would do it from the comfort of shag carpet. The name of the carpet, if he remembers correctly set him off laughing once more.
Then Howard had grabbed his hair and pulled. That was definitely not allowed. Ever. He had punched some poor sod's face in for less than that. Howard tugged again, but he remembers that he didn't fight it off. He let Howard yank on his hair, and really hard too. That in itself should certainly have hinted at the feelings he had for the other man. Howard was yelling something, and pulling harder, and all he remembers is the pain, and sitting uselessly, allowing it to happen.
He can't remember what happened next, did he tell him to stop? He might have, because the wicked pulling fingers eased up, running through the hair light and apologetic. He remembers thinking that it didn't matter, nothing to apologize for, he would let Howard do anything. Thinking about it now, that had been ridiculous. He knew he wouldn't let Howard do millions of things; ice skate, do his makeup, eat guava fruit, at least not after that last time... But somehow he doesn't think that's what his drunken mind meant.
He remembered Howard whispering not to cry, which he had thought was crazy until he felt the wetness on his cheeks for himself. He remembered whispering something back, although he can't quite remember what it was, and he was sure he had said it too loud and ruined the magic of the whisper.
Then Howard had tried to wipe the tears away with his face. Or maybe he had just gone for the snog and missed, but either way they had ended up cheek to cheek, neither one daring to breath, both afraid to break the spell that seemed to envelop them. Finally he remembered tilting his head, just a fraction and then Howard had grabbed his head and pressed their lips together.
He wished he could remember more about the sex. He remembered the floor was hard against his back, and Howard was heavy though he tried to hold himself up a bit. He remembered the spike of heat in his groin, and the tingling sensations through his arms and his stomach. He remembers a bit of sloppy kissing, and Howard doing something quite amazing with his tongue.
Howard's hands he remembered the most, how the ran up and down his arms, then over the bumps of his ribs. He remembered them toying with a nipple, and pinching one, causing him to gasp at the mixture of pain and pleasure. And he remembered the moment they touched his member, and how it felt like heaven.
He couldn't remember much else, and that killed him. He knew that Howard had topped, and he remembers small snatches of ecstatic yells, deep moans, and the feeling of having Howard inside him. But no matter how hard he tried he couldn't conjure much else. Not that he needed to. Those few memories drove him crazy, and made him feel a sick mixture of shame, guilt and loss. The worst part was, that beneath all of that was a bud of happiness that he couldn't really explain.
They hadn't talked about it after, to his relief. Howard had given him one awkward smile when they woke up naked and hungover on the floor. Maybe he would have said something, but then he caught sight of himself in Vince's mirror, and had started going off on how he had makeup all over his face, and he looked like a berk. He had agreed, laughing, though he actually thought Howard looked quite fetching in lip gloss. They had bantered for a bit, then Howard had left to get cleaned up.
They still hadn't talked about it, but it was always there, hanging over everything they did. There was a new kind of tension, stronger than it had ever been, and it was building up, but to what he really didn't know. But, true to his nature, he absolutely couldn't wait to find out.
A/N Two more chapters on the way. Hope you enjoyed it.