What a Kiss Can Do

"I'll never forget you, this is my only choice. You'll never forgive me; I'd die and wait for you." Sean Smith finished the song, a roaring scream from the crowd echoing in his ears as the lights faded down to black. Placing the microphone back in the stand, Sean walked over to Lostprophets singer Ian Watkins and clapped his shoulder. "Great singing," he complimented. Ian's band – Lostprophets – was touring the UK and Europe with The Blackout, a good arrangement if you asked either Sean or Ian. The two men were best friends - the inseparable, joined-at-the-hip kind of friendship. It was always Ian and Sean, or Sean and Ian. One could not survive without the other.

Ian gave a smile in response to Sean's compliment, flashing those dazzling white teeth of his. "Not as awesome as yours." Then bringing his face closer, he kissed Sean's lips gently. "Thanks for the show tonight."

Then he was gone, leaving a dumbfounded Sean standing alone in the centre of the stage. He brought his fingers up to his lips, a strange feeling in his stomach. Just then, the start of 'Children of the Night' began and he had to snap back to reality.

♥♥♥

Sean didn't speak to Ian after the show. He grabbed his bag and ran out the door, muttering something about being tired. He didn't answer Ian's questions or meet his gaze.

Even that afternoon, Sean sat alone in his room, and when Ian walked in, the blonde pretended to be asleep. Knowing he was faking – Sean was the worst actor ever – the Lostprophets singer felt somewhat annoyed. Ian didn't know why Sean was avoiding him. Ever since the concert, the blonde made it his mission to stay as far away from the singer as possible. When they'd return to the hotel at night, Sean would immediately retire to his room. During shows, he'd try his hardest to interact with the crowd, and not Ian. This behaviour was really starting to piss Ian off. It was only a kiss. A friendly kiss. Why is he so mad?

Days of loneliness morphed into a week, and soon it became two weeks. Ian wanted it to end. He missed Sean's company more than anything. He was tired of being so physically close to Sean while so emotionally distant at the same time. What could he say? He was nothing without the company of his best friend.

Seven o'clock, Saturday night; Sean was, as usual, behind the closed door of his bedroom. Ian stood outside, his palms beginning to sweat as he gripped the handle. Earlier on, he had told the guys of his plan, and they agreed that Sean needed some sorting out. Lee passed down the hall, giving his band member the thumbs up gesture.

Taking a steady, calming deep breath, Ian knocked gently. Silence answered him momentarily, before a muffled "Yes?" came seeping through.

"It's me, Ian. Can I come in?" Ian swallowed, hoping Sean would at least reply.

It took a few hesitant seconds, but eventually Sean replied, "Okay." His voice was quiet, and depressed. Not very Sean-like at all.

Pushing the door open, Ian stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. Sean was lying on his right side, eyes gazing at the wall, back to Ian. His hair was ruffled – he probably moved deliberately on hearing Ian's voice.

"Hey," Ian said softly, wandering over to Sean's bed. He sat himself down beside his friend. "What's up?"

Sean shrugged. "Nothing."

Rolling his eyes, Ian bent down so his gaze was in line with Sean's. "Don't lie to me, Sean. Something's up. You haven't talked to me since playing in Leeds two weeks ago!" He bit his lip, bringing a hand up to Sean's cheek. "You don't seem yourself."

Surprisingly, Sean smacked his hand away. "Don't touch me." He spat, shifting in the bed and rolling over to his other side. Ian growled out of frustration, and moved around the bed to the other side.

"Sean, talk to me. Please!" He pleaded.

The blonde remained emotionless as he rolled back onto his right side. Getting annoyed, Ian caught his hands, climbed up onto the bed and straddled his hips, pinning him down. "Stop ignoring me." He said in a somewhat begging voice. "You've never been like this before Sean. I miss the old you. What happened to us?"

Glaring, a soft pink blush appearing on his cheeks, Sean replied cattily, "You happened."

Ian faltered. "I-I happened?" He let go of Sean's wrists. "What did I do Sean?" His hazel eyes began to water slightly, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. He felt hurt, guilty…

The blonde sighed deeply, not looking at Ian in the eyes as he whispered, "You kissed me."

"So?" Ian said, "It was only a kiss; nothing more than a friendly kiss."

Sean felt his own brown orbs water as he replied, "But I liked it, Ian. And I'm ashamed of liking it."

Bringing his fingers up to Sean's rounded cheeks, he whispered. "What do you mean 'liked'?"

"Liked as in," he said, "As in I enjoyed the experience and it left me craving for more."

Ian suddenly realised what Sean as talking about. He was attracted to Ian. The blonde was avoiding him because of those feelings. He was ashamed to like another man. Especially when that man was his best friend.

"Ian, I'm so sorry." Sean felt hot tears trail down his face. "I'm sorry for ignoring you and being a sulking brat but . . . I'm so confused." He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as they began to betray him and leak hot, salty tears.

Ian leaned forward and cupped his face. His thumb trailed over the soft skin on his cheek, not wanting his friend to be upset. "Shh," he cooed, "I should apologize. I'm the one who started all of this." He stopped for a second, debating on whether to add something on the end of that. As Sean gave another sob, Ian decided to take matters into his own hands. "And I'm going to be the one who'll fix it."

Before he could ask what he meant, Sean felt Ian's plush lips against his again. This time, the kiss was more extravagant – their mouths moved together in an almost similar pattern. Ian's tongue did most of the work – "Hell he's a good kisser," Sean was thinking – and by the time they broke away, the blonde haired singer craved him even more.

"Sean," Ian whispered, taking both of Sean's hands in his, "I love you. I'm sorry I made you unhappy because it's only now I realised - I have feelings for you to. So I'm asking – begging – you: Will you be my boyfriend?"

The singer took in his words, giving Ian's hands a gentle squeeze as he smiled. "Yes. I will."

With a shout of delight, Ian wrapped his hands around Sean and they embraced on the bed. Both men were never happier in their entire lives.

The door suddenly burst open. Gavin, Lee and Stu piled in, eyes wide worried. "What the friggin' shit happened here?!" Stu shouted. "We heard noises and-" He suddenly stopped on seeing both men, caught rotten in the middle of a kiss.

"I think we'll just… Go." Lee muttered turning and walking out.

Sean threw a pillow at the back of Gavin's head. "You fucking plum! What did you think I was doing? Killing him?!"

With cheeks as red as a cherry, the singer muttered, "After witnessing that . . . I think I'd rather he was killing you."

Before Sean could throw any more inanimate objects at his head, Gavin escaped the room, slamming the door behind him.

Ian turned to Sean. "'You fucking plum'? What kind of an insult is that?" He gave a giggle as Sean glared. "You're cute, you know that?"

Sean smirked. "So I've been told."

Without another word spoken, both men cuddled into each other, staying together that night, and for many more nights to come.