Brian couldn't even move. His feet were glued to the floor and he simply watched Roger back away, an embarrassed, upset look upon his face, repeatedly mouthing "I'm sorry". He simply couldn't find it in him. He was practically in shock after Roger's statement.

"I love you."
It couldn't just be "I want you" or "I need you". It had to be love. "I love you." It couldn't be possible. How could it? There was no such thing as love in their relationship. It had all been lust; pure lust and wanting, all throughout the summer. Love had no part in it. Or did it?

Sure, they'd cuddle after sex, or simply lay in bed and chat, watch TV, or even just go right to sleep. Shows were tiring, so neither of them had a whole lot of energy for any sort of fooling around sometimes. They simply enjoyed each other's company. Friends with benefits, right? Or was there something more.. Something that was underneath all of that; something much deeper than Brian knew?

A stewardess soon came, informing Brian that he would have to soon leave the plane, so he let her escort him to the other end, and thanked her as he exited the plane. He trembled slightly as he approached the terminal. How could he face his wife and kids now? He just had an affair with a man while on tour, and that man just said he loved him. He paused outside the entrance to compose himself. If Chrissie asked why he looked so stressed and worried, he would simply say that he didn't have a good flight, and just wanted to get some sleep. Yeah, that'll work.. She won't suspect a thing.

Once the security guard cleared him, Brian made his way through the empty airport, to the baggage claim area where Chrissie would be waiting. You can pull it off. Just get him out of your mind. Brian smiled as soon as he saw them.

Chrissie wore the blue dress that he loved, with her hair fixed up nice, and her face looking fresh and happy. Jimmy was sitting beside her, half asleep under a blanket, with his equally-tired sister in his arms. Besides them, there was no one else in the airport.

Roger most likely got a cab; Dominique wouldn't waste time in picking him up. John had Veronica, and Freddie had Mary and several other friends greeting him. He would most likely have a party when they got back to his house.

Chrissie was flipping through a magazine, taking the occasional glance at her watch, quite oblivious to Brian's presence. He cleared his throat and she immediately looked up, a wide grin forming on her face when she saw Brian. He couldn't help but to smile as well, as his wife stood and ran up to him, throwing her arms around his neck. Easily scooping her up, Brian buried his face in her hair, and both were silent as they simply held each other close.

Soon Jimmy came to them, hugging Brian's leg with one arm, while the other held his baby sister. Once Brian put Chrissie down, he leaned in to give her a kiss, before reaching down to pick up Jimmy and Louisa. He commented on how big they were getting, and asked what Chrissie had been feeding them. The couple laughed as they left the airport.

--------------

Roger sat in the backseat of a cab, with his head in his hands. How could you be so fucking stupid?! Now everything is ruined. And you ruined it. It's your fault.

The drummer tried to keep himself from crying, because he would be home soon, but he just couldn't help it. Tears rolled down his cheeks and fell on his lap, causing small wet spots to form on his pants. The driver noticed him crying in the rear view mirror, but kept silent, not wanting to concern himself.

Roger knew it was likely he wouldn't be seeing Brian any time soon, but it was the fact that he would probably never get to hold him, kiss him, and love him ever again. He had most definitely screwed up, and there was no way he could think of to fix things. Hell, all he wanted was Brian, and Brian was the one thing that was out of reach.

Five minutes later, Roger stood in front of his house, luggage in hand, as the cab drove away. All the lights were off in the house, but Dominique left the porch light on, as always. Once Roger let himself in, he dropped his bags by the front door and wandered into the kitchen of the dark, lonely house. Roger, Dom, and Felix were anything but a family. Roger was always away, whether it was on tour, at a party, or simply out (as this was his response to when Dominique asked where he was going). He always made time for Felix, because he was the boy's father, and that was the one thing he would never fail to be. Dominique, on the other hand, was more a mother than Roger was a father. She'd never hesitate to skip a party or an event to be there for Felix, and because Roger was always touring, Felix became very attached to her. Dominique would leave him at home with the housekeeping if she wanted to see some friends, but usually, she was the most kind, caring woman on earth when it came to her son. Roger, on the other hand, was a different story.

Towards Roger, Dominique was cold, unforgiving, and often times, very unaffectionate. She knew all about Roger's unfaithfulness, so she hardly felt the need to be nice to him. She was civil, and often times treated him as just some random stranger. The only reason she stayed with him was for Felix. Roger loved him, and Dom wasn't so cruel that she would take her son from a man who was a lot better at being a dad than most.

Roger trudged up the stairs, passing a few guest rooms before making it to Felix's room. He carefully opened the door and stepped inside, smiling at the warm comforting feeling of the room; the soft glow of nightlight, that fresh laundry scent, and just the sweet, innocent aura that only a two-year-old's room would have.

Felix was asleep in his crib, wearing a onesie with "I love Mommy" on it. A light blanket covered him, and a few small stuffed animals were in there as well. As Roger gazed down at his son, who he hadn't seen since his birthday in May, he couldn't help but to tear up once more. Felix was so small and cute and young, that you just instantly fall in love with him.

Roger remained by the crib, just watching his son sleep through blurred vision, until he composed himself enough to leave. The master bedroom was right beside the nursery, and Dominique was fast asleep on her side of the bed. The couple didn't always share a bed (it depended upon Dominique's mood), and Roger knew that tonight would be one of those nights. All Roger wanted to do was curl up under the blankets and cry himself to sleep. A drink would help, but would do him no good when he woke up in the morning.

Roger adjusted the sheets, carefully pulling them over Dom so she would stay warm, before planting a soft kiss on her forehead. She was still out like a light when Roger left the room, heading over to one of the guest rooms that he often slept in, and immediately flopped onto the bed. He kicked off his shoes and pants, before throwing his shirt halfway across the room. After crawling under the sheets, Roger grabbed a pillow and clutched it to his chest, burying his face in it. It was right now, in the dark room, in the deafening silence, where Roger missed Brian the most. He desperately wanted the older man beside him, holding him close, and keeping him safe from all the nightmares and terrors that his imagination dreamed up. He craved not only human touch, but Brian's touch. Brian's affection.

It suddenly occurred to Roger that he wasn't really, truly loved. Sure, the fans loved him, but there wasn't one person who could say "I love you, Roger" or "I care about you, Roger" and really mean it. Dom didn't love him, and neither did any of his other female companions; Brian was out of the question at this point. Roger might live a rockstar's lifestyle, but at the end of the day, all he really wanted was someone to curl up next to and fall asleep with. For only a little while, he had that with Brian. But now, Brian most likely would never see Roger in the same way again; things would be very civil between them. And this scared Roger.

Perhaps Brian would've wanted to keep seeing the drummer; who know how things could've gone. But because of three, simple words, Roger screwed it up.

Sleep soon overcame Roger, but it was a light, restless sleep that would leave him exhausted in the morning.

--------------------

Brian awoke the next morning, and a small smile formed on his lips. He brought his hand up to run through Roger's soft hair, slightly confused by how long it was. It didn't deter the sleepy guitarist, as he wasn't fully awake yet. Moving his head to the side slightly, Brian nuzzled his face into Roger's hair, wanting to smell his cologne and cigarettes, but was greeted with a much different smell. It was sweet and flowery, and most certainly didn't belong to Roger.

Opening his eyes, Brian found that he was not in a hotel room with his best friend, but in his own bed, with his wife. He sighed as he looked down at the beautiful woman asleep beside him. He wasn't ashamed of thinking he had been sleeping with Roger, yet the guitarist felt a pang in his heart when he realized that Chrissie was the one in his bed. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he already missed Roger.

Usually during breaks in the middle of a tour, Brian would sleep, eat, and reenergize in preparation for when the band would leave again. But for the next week, Brian hardly slept, ate only when Chrissie announced meals, and didn't do much more than sit on the couch or fiddle with his guitar. Chrissie noticed his odd behavior, and asked him only once about it. Brian's response was "I'm just thinking about stuff", so she left it at that. The last thing she wanted was to aggravate her husband. She did watch him, though, just to see what he did throughout the day.

At first she thought he was depressed; it was a reasonable assumption, considering how introverted Brian was, but he didn't seem unhappy or upset. He just always seemed to be deep in thought about something. And as long as things didn't get worse, Chrissie thought it best to just let things be.

Roger, on the other hand, was quick to engage in self-destruction. The first week home, he didn't sleep, he drank, he picked up random girls and even paid for some, and he completely ignored Dominique. Like Chrissie, she noticed Roger's behavior as well; but she didn't have the instinct that Chrissie had to think something was wrong. Dom simply dismissed it as a phase.

It wasn't until the second week that Chrissie decided to phone Veronica. Having been married for seven years with three kids (and number four on the way), Chrissie often came to Veronica for advice.

They sat on the back porch of John and Veronica's home, sipping tea and watching John play with Robert and Michael.

"She's sure getting big, Ronnie, next thing you know, she'll be bigger than her brothers!" Chrissie chuckled as she handed three-year-old Laura back to Veronica.

"Oh, I know, trust me! She's almost able to keep up with Michael, you know."

The pair carried on their light conversation until John took all three children back into the house, and began to start making lunch.

"So tell me again, what's wrong with Brian?"

Chrissie sighed as she leaned back in the deck chair, shaking her head slightly. "That's just it.. I haven't the faintest idea. He just seems so distant, as if his mind is a million miles away! He hardly talks to me, or to Jimmy, and he just sits around all day, and I'm worried about him.."

Veronica nodded as her friend explained the situation. "Perhaps he's just got a lot on his mind th-"

"Too much that he can't talk to me about it?" Chrissie interrupted. "I've asked, and all he does is say he's thinking. I can't get through to him!"

It was obvious that Chrissie was very distraught over this. "Dear, I'm sure he'll be fine. Just encourage him to open up to you. Brian's just like John; he'll hold things in until he's ready to talk about them. Just give him time, and I'm sure he'll come around."

------------------

But Chrissie was not patient when it came to things like these. After dinner that night, when Brian went into the den to once again fiddle with his guitar, Chrissie followed him. She sat on the sofa across from Brian, who didn't mind his wife's presence, and flipped through a magazine.

After awhile, she closed it and set it aside, clearing her throat. "Love, could I talk to you about something?"

Brian looked up from Red Special. "Sure, what's up?"

"Bri, you know you can always talk to me, right? If something's not right, or if you're upset. I'll always listen to you."

Brian raised an eyebrow. "Mhmm. That's why I love you so much, you're the world's best listener."

Chrissie chuckled, and Brian looked back to his guitar, thinking he wouldn't have to say any more.

"But dear.., you just seem.. distant. It's like your mind's somewhere else, all the time." A serious expression returned to Chrissie's face, and she ran her fingers through her long, brown hair before her hands settled on her lap.

Brian just shrugged. "I've got a lot on my mind." What's with the questions? There's nothing wrong..

"I've noticed. And it's worrying me! Please, Brian, just tell me, whatever it is, whatever's the matter, you can talk to me." The sincere, concerned look on her face caused Brian to worry, to think that the worst had happened.

Does she know? Does she somehow know what happened? Jesus Christ, if she ever found out.. No, don't be stupid, she can't know. Roger wouldn't tell her, would he? No. No no no no no, you know better than that. He wouldn't say an-

Brian's thoughts were disrupted when he felt a smaller hand slip into his. Chrissie was now sitting beside him. "Please, babe.. Just talk to me.."

His first instinct was to leave. To get out of that situation as quickly as he could. Brian shook his head quickly, giving his wife a soft smile and a quick kiss on the forehead. "I'm perfectly fine, Chrissie. Trust me.., okay?"

Brian of course, was anything but fine. He was so terribly mixed up inside, so incredibly confused that, he hardly knew who he was anymore. He had feelings for Roger, feelings that didn't go away when he got home, and only intensified whenever he thought of the drummer. Brian didn't want to admit it to himself, or to Roger, and especially not to Chrissie, but he knew that this feeling wasn't just lust, need, or want. It was love.