My first Stendan fic! Just had a lot of feels to get out. Apologies for any mistakes, it's not been beta read and it's the first time I've ever written for this pairing. I also haven't watched the show for the entire time Ste's been in it so there might be one or two mistakes regarding his past. I fact checked it, but you never know.
Enjoy.~
Ste flicked through channels on the TV idly, his feet propped up on the coffee table before him and a beer in his other hand. Nothing but crap on, as usual. He glanced up at the clock… seven forty-five. It was odd how quickly time seemed to pass when the kids were here- he and Amy were always rushed off their feet, trying to get them dressed, splitting up their squabbles, trying to get them fed and clean. Time just seemed to disappear when you had kids.
He thought about calling Doug for a moment, but then he remembered about a split second later that they were on a break of sorts. They'd had the conversation after closing the deli on Friday. He'd been upset, understandably, but they'd reached a truce of sorts and now Ste just had to assume that he was spending the weekend sulking, in true Doug fashion.
It was of course reasonable; they hadn't been together long and already they needed a 'break', but Ste had been clear. It wasn't Doug's fault. Lately, Ste had felt… off. The last few months had been completely crazy for both of them, what with buying the deli, spending all that time doing it up, finally opening and then all the stuff with Brendan and finding out that Doug had got the money off of him… not to mention the long hours at work and the unexpected stress of a new relationship. And since Lynsey's death, things had been… well, something had shifted, and he wasn't sure what. Since that day he'd held Brendan in the street where Lynsey's lifeless body lay, when he was borderline hysterical in a way Ste hadn't ever seen before, and then their peaceful exchange in the village the day after… Something deep inside of him, deep in the recesses of his heart that few had penetrated, Ste felt something move and settle in a new place. A place that didn't seem to hurt as much.
Simply put, Ste's nerves were fried, his chest ached and he desperately needed the time off from whatever he could. Doug happened to be one of those things that he could mute for the time being. He would still go to work, still take care of the kids, look after the flat, but that was it. He couldn't deal with the pressure of being in a relationship, of having to take care of Doug's needs and well… touch him, sleep with him, and do relationship-type things with him… A part of his mind was screaming out that if his relationship with Doug was so much work, then maybe their 'temporary hiatus' should become something more permanent.
But as usual, Ste made excuses, and told himself (and Doug) that it was only a temporary thing for him to get his shit together, and give his brain a chance to reconfigure itself. But deep down, Ste knew the biggest reason why he needed to be on his own for a while. His mind had been straying elsewhere. If it were the case that it had been straying when he was on his own, and only then, like when he spent his increasingly rare nights alone in his own bed with no Doug, then he wouldn't be concerned. But he couldn't remember the last time he went up to Doug and kissed him or initiated anything with him without feeling obligated, without feeling the pressure of being the active one whilst in actual fact Doug was seemingly doing all the work. Ste suspected that Doug was getting frustrated with him, like there was only one person in the relationship, and it wasn't Ste. What worried Ste the most though, was that his mind had been filled with thoughts of another man, and not just when he was alone. He'd been zoning off during the day when he was meant to be listening to Doug or Amy nattering on about something or other, only to be reprimanded for not paying attention. Amy was well aware that something was off - she'd noticed it before Doug had, but she was thankfully biting her tongue about it.
It was Brendan who invaded his thoughts, naturally.
It had been far too long since Ste had seen that side of him, the Brendan who didn't wear the mask around him and who knew that he had nothing to hide when it came to Steven. The one who treated him with respect, an equal almost, and looked at him with that vulnerability in his eyes that he daren't show to anyone but him.
Ste twisted his mouth in thought, and picked at his nails thoughtfully. He hadn't eaten dinner yet - Amy was at her dad's with the kids for his birthday this weekend. He'd been invited along and before his almost impulsive decision to break with Doug, he had been planning to go with them. But he pulled out a couple of days ago, explaining to Amy that he just needed a bit of solitude. She'd understood, kissed him on the cheek and told him to take his time, and that she was only a phone call away if he needed him. It reminded him of why he loved her so much.
So here he was, Saturday evening, beer in hand, some crap reality TV show on and blissfully on his own. It had been his day off anyway, and Doug still thought he was in Manchester with the kids, so he was unlikely to be disturbed.
Half an hour later, and in serious danger of watching a marathon of Toddlers and Tiaras, Ste decided to switch it off lest he have nightmares of Amy forcing their Leah into some hideous costume and parading her around in it like she was four times her age in the same way the mothers on screen did. Not that she ever would, but the thought was scary enough. He switched it off and walked into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. He flopped onto the bed and glanced off to the side. He was… bored, for what felt like the first time in ever.
Glancing up, he noticed the corner of a box poking out from under his bed at the edge of his peripheral. He remembered what it was instantly, but he hadn't looked at it in forever. Lifting up the hem of his bed sheet that concealed the mess underneath his bed, he fished out the little wooden chest and sat with it before him, his back to the wall. There was a lock in the front of it, but the key wasn't there. He opened up the drawer of his bedside table and felt around the mess inside until his fingers fell on a piece of coarse, worn garden twine at the bottom. He pulled it out and placed the small brass key that it was tied around into the lock at the front, and turned it until it clicked open.
Inside was an array of what would to most people look like miscellaneous rubbish. But it wasn't rubbish to Ste. Everything inside had some kind of significance to him. There was a little toy car he'd loved as a child (one of a very few toys in fact), and he picked it up with a smile, running it over his thigh like he did when he was little, before placing it beside him. A snow globe he had been given at Christmas time by a teacher when he was seven. A christening bangle he had, for some reason, though he had no idea why it was in his possession- it certainly wasn't his. He couldn't even really remember who'd given it to him- it might have been his nan, one of the few people who had been really interested in him as a child. But it was a personal item anyway, obviously too small for his wrists now, so he kept it. Maybe he'd give it to Leah or Lucas.
There were also a number of important documents in there too- his birth certificate, a faded, powder-blue baby book with barely any of his development milestones marked off, only occasionally signed by a doctor. A lock of Lucas' baby-soft hair in an envelope. A folded up child's drawing of a house; he'd known from then that Leah was a creative one, like he'd said to Darren Osbourne as he'd passed him that day in the street… 'She's defo gonna be an artist, in't she?'
When he got to the bottom, there was a pile of photographs, and a few crumpled, hand-written letters. All of them were addressed to Brendan. Ste didn't even bother reading over them; he'd already done so countless times, and he wasn't prepared to go digging them out to relive the agony he'd felt when writing them. No, he knew better than that now.
Instead, he turned his attention to the pile of photographs beneath them, face down, so that Ste didn't have to look at them when he opened it up for something else. He hadn't even glanced at them in ages.
Tentatively, he reached for them, picking them up and turning them over. At the image, he felt a wave of anguish come over him, as the memory of when it was taken came back to him. He immediately put the pile back in the box, and rubbed his face roughly. He shook his head, his heart pounding, and sighed. This was a bad idea.
He'd promised himself years ago, when he'd put them away, that he would only open it again when he had everything he wanted. Because surely then, when he had the relationship he wanted, when someone finally loved him as much as he did them, surely when he had the job of his dreams, working for himself, the security he'd longed for when he first put them away years ago… he'd be able to look at them. Surely.
His hands shook. He suddenly had a deep, dreadful feeling, like a dream had just shattered before him that he hadn't even realised he'd been harbouring. Rubbing furiously at his eyes as if he could push the tears back inside, and reached into his pocket for his phone. Scrolling through the numbers there, his thumb hovered above Doug's name, still with a redundant heart emoticon beside it. He hesitated. Doug would be there for him, give him a shoulder to cry on, no doubt, but he'd never in a million years understand what he was going through. How painful it was for him to look back at those pictures, at the fakery, the bruises and cuts, at the misery in his childhood eyes staring back at his not-so-different adult ones. No, he needed someone else.
Someone who understood how he felt.
He scrolled up a bit and found Brendan's number. He hadn't had the heart to delete it.
"Can't believe I'm doing this," he mumbled to himself, and tapped the 'call' button beside his name before holding the phone up to his ear. He was probably at the club; it was Saturday night after all, he probably wouldn't even hear him…
"Steven." Brendan's deep voice said after a few moments, and Ste almost felt a shiver run down his spine and at the sound of it.
"Hi, Brendan," he said after a minute, doing his best to stop his voice from cracking.
"And to what do I owe this pleasure?" He asked. Ste noted that the background was oddly quiet… then again, it was only half past eight.
"I just… I wondered how you were doing," Ste replied. It wasn't a lie. He had been thinking of him.
"That's kind of you."
Ste wondered if he was being sarcastic, but frankly he wasn't in the mood to take it at any more than face value. He didn't really sound it, anyway. "Can you come over?" He asked. His voice was unexpectedly quiet, and almost sounded broken to his own ears.
Brendan was silent for a moment, but he didn't seem to hesitate before answering. "I'll be there in twenty minutes." And then the phone went dead.
Ste sat tight for a couple of minutes before he went into the living room to get the half empty six pack of beer out of the fridge, and took it into his bedroom, setting it down on the bed and opening one for himself. Brendan arrived only ten minutes later, knocking on the door. Though why he didn't just let himself in, Ste didn't know- he'd done it plenty of times since buying their flat.
Opening the door, he took in the appearance of the man stood before him. He looked a mess. Not physically maybe, but he could sense it in him- he was wearing his leather jacket, rather than his suit. Ste briefly wondered if he'd even been at the club. His hair was spiked up as usual, but his eyes looked older somehow. "Hi," Steven said, and stepped aside to let him in.
"Alright?" Brendan asked, looking around nosily like he usually did before turning to face Ste, who'd shut the door. He glanced at it, and furrowed his brow as he realised that Ste had put the chain lock on, but he didn't question it.
"Yeah…" Ste replied, suddenly feeling a bit sheepish. He'd called him here, and now what?
Brendan tilted his head, looking at him in confusion. "Ye sure?" He walked towards him where Ste was leaning against the door and staring at his feet, and tilted his chin up so their eyes locked.
Ste forced a smile and shook his head, stepping away. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said, "I just… I needed some company. I thought you might too, 'cause of… well, you know."
Brendan's eyes darkened a bit, and he nodded. "Where's Amy and the kids?" He asked.
"At her dad's. It's his birthday this weekend… I was meant to go but I didn't feel up to it."
Brendan nodded. "Why didn't ye ask Douglas? Ye seemed pretty loved up…" he sneered disdainfully, looking away from him.
Ste was quiet for a bit too long. Brendan didn't really need to know why he hadn't called Doug; that was none of his business. But when he quickly turned his eyes back to Steven, they were alight with realisation. Fuck, he'd given it away anyway.
"Don't tell me…" Brendan smirked, and Ste turned away from him before he had to deal with his trademark smugness.
"It's none of your business," Ste snapped, and walked into his bedroom.
Brendan followed, obviously, far too intrigued to let it rest. "So ye finally had enough of that accent eh? What'd he do? Did he cheat on ye? Did he hurt ye?" He asked, looking increasingly angry as his questions continued.
"Leave it, Brendan. It's nothin' like that," Ste said, sitting on his bed and running a hand through his hair. He knew it was a bad idea to ask Brendan over. What had he been thinking?
Brendan seemed to take in Ste's stressed posture, and he stopped talking. Ste shuffled up the bed to where he'd been sitting before, his things still spread out around the box. He patted the space next to him, and Brendan kicked off his shoes and slid his jacket off, leaving them on the floor at the foot of the bed. He crawled up the bed to sit beside him, feeling a bit awkward, which was rare for him. They'd never been on this bed together and well… not done anything, as it were.
Ste handed a beer to Brendan, who took it gratefully, and uncapped it for him.
"So what's this?" He asked, motioning at the box in front of Ste.
"It's just a load of rubbish, really." He replied, even though in his heart he knew that it wasn't true. Sometimes he wished it was, though- wished that he had the heart to just throw it all away.
Brendan didn't seem to accept this answer, and he picked up the toy car he'd played with. "Lucas?" He asked, turning it around in his hand.
Ste shook his head, suddenly a bit quiet.
"Leah's?" He asked again. Not likely, she was girly as anything. Wasn't too fond of cars. Ste shook his head again.
"Yours?" Brendan asked, and then seemed to hold it with more care. Ste nodded.
"Are you okay?" He asked softly, noticing how Ste's eyes were a bit wetter.
Ste looked up at him and shook his head. "I should be askin' you that."
Brendan ran his fingers over the wheels of the toy car thoughtfully, exactly like he'd done, and then put it down next to him gently.
Ste realised that he should probably explain himself. "I was just.. I was lookin' at some of this old stuff, 'cause I haven't in ages you know, and I just… I felt a bit weird." He explained quickly, looking at the bottle in his hands. "I didn't want to be on me own and I realised that… I realised that you might be on your own too so… I just wanted to see ya."
Brendan gazed up at him from where he'd now laid down on the bed, and took a swig of his beer. Truth be told, he'd been desperately wanting to see Steven too, he just… he hadn't known how to approach him, exactly. Especially with that snotty little git hanging around him all the time…
Ste shifted, feeling a bit awkward talking to someone who was in mourning about his silly trip down memory lane. He nodded anyway. "I mean, I know I shouldn't call you up about it, especially since Lynsey and everythin', it's the last thing you need. This is probably nothin' compared to what you're goin' through-"
"Steven," Brendan said, and reached behind him to put his beer on Ste's bedside table.
"What?" Ste asked quietly.
"It's okay," he said gently, and tentatively rested his hand on Ste's leg. "You… you were there for me and Cheryl when Lynsey died, the least I can do is be there for you." It would certainly be a start…
Ste nodded. "How is Cheryl, by the way?" He asked.
Brendan sighed. "As well as is to be expected. She's still in Ireland."
Ste's eyes softened. They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, and Ste reached for the stack of photos again. "I erm…" he began, not really knowing how to say that he needed the other man there to look through a pile of old photos with him. Why was his heart beating a mile a minute? He thought back to all their conversations… Brendan didn't really know anything about Ste's past. Only that he'd hit Amy, been to Young Offenders, that he was once a bit of a delinquent. That he'd turned his life around. He realised then that he'd never told Brendan about the abuse, and how Terry had made his life a living hell, and how his mother hadn't been much better. How he'd never seen his real father growing up. He realised that Doug didn't either but strangely… he didn't feel as compelled to tell him as he did with Brendan. Maybe it was because he knew Doug would never understand.
Brendan was looking between his face and the pile of photos he held expectantly.
"I had this… well, this goal I set for meself, I guess you could say," Ste began, finding his voice a bit stronger. "I had this dream that one day, I'd be able to look at 'em. I tried… I told myself that one day, when I finally had everythin' I wanted, when I was older and stronger, I'd be able to look at them, and I'd be able to deal with it." He explained. It was both odd and very refreshing to be able to be so honest about how he was feeling - something which he'd not been able to do very much recently. Not really with Amy, he didn't want to bring her down since she'd been with that Ally, shady as he was, and he felt like he was acting all the time with Doug as it was anyway, so he couldn't with him either.
But Brendan… Brendan had seen him at his best and his worst, and vice versa, and he could be totally honest with him. He'd been oddly peaceful with him lately- not that it was for a good reason, but a lot of the cockiness and the arrogance and the manipulation… it just wasn't there right now.
Brendan nodded. "What are they?" He asked, pointing at them. He was eager to see them- he found himself fascinated with anything relating to Steven. Ste supposed he was curious about Brendan's childhood too, as bad as he knew it was. That was why he wanted him here. Because Brendan knew what it felt like, to be a victim, just as well as he knew what it was like to be on the other end…
Ste handed them to him. "Can you..?" He asked, not needing to finish his sentence.
"Ye sure?" Brendan asked gently, and Ste nodded. Turning them over, his eyes took in what he could see.
The picture at the top was of a six-year old Ste, standing against his mother's legs with Terry standing not far behind. He wasn't smiling. Brendan seemed to stare at it for ages. His eyes were fixed on Ste's in the picture, at his dishevelled appearance, his pale face against the backdrop of his mother's duffel coat in the picture.
"Is that your ma?" Brendan asked quietly, pointing at her.
"Pauline, yeah." Ste answered with a sneer. Brendan noticed it.
"And your dad?"
"Terry. Stepdad, yeah."
Brendan was silent. Had he figured it out? Did he know?
Brendan put it to the back, and looked at the next one. Ste, about four or five, in a dingy-looking living room. He wasn't smiling. It looked like the photo had almost been taken by accident. He was in his pyjamas, and there were no toys around really, and it was slightly blurred. He had a black eye. Brendan's finger tip ran over Ste's face in the picture, as if he could wipe off the bruise like some faint, smudgy mistake.
Silently, he put it to the back too. The next one was slightly happier. Ste was a baby, probably about six months old or so. He was giving a grin at the camera, showing off his tiny milk teeth. Brendan smiled at it widely, the first genuine one Ste had seen in ages. Ste was quite a cute baby.
"Adorable," he said simply, not taking his eyes off of it. He seemed to stare at it for longer than the others. Ste knew what he was seeing; there was an innocence there that was prematurely missing in the others.
Going through the next few, they were fairly similar - one of Ste toddling around a floor with a carpet even he didn't recognise, one of a three year old Steven sat on a worktop littered with wine bottles. A rather amusing one of Ste clutching a far too big hat to his head- probably a woman's hat. Brendan smirked. "Started young, didn't ye?"
Ste chuckled. "I didn't do it very often," he said. 'Terry would've killed me.' Ste thought, his smile falling.
Brendan looked through them with deep affection in his eyes until he got to the last one, the one that Ste knew would give away his past instantly. He'd been dreading seeing it. He looked away, but he knew what Brendan was seeing there, too. He didn't even know why he still had it.
Ste was sat in the same living room as the one in many of the other pictures. But this time, he was older- about nine or ten years old. He was sat on the floor with Terry beside him. His hand was like a vice around the back of Ste's neck, and the smile on Ste's face was forced. Terry smiled at the camera in a way so sinister Ste couldn't even bear to look at it.
He hated that one. He would burn it when Brendan left.
Brendan stared for what seemed like a lifetime, and then put it to the back so that the first picture showed again. He was silent. He seemed to be thinking.
"This… 'Terry'," he said after a moment, "…what was he like?"
Ste was silent, and he took a swig of his beer before speaking. "He was a bastard." He said simply.
"…Care to elaborate?" Brendan asked slowly, dangerously.
Ste was almost afraid to. Brendan looked at him, anger in his eyes, but not for him. "He… well, he used to hit me and stuff," Ste explained after a minute. "And me mum. It didn't matter what he did though, she wouldn't leave him. I begged her and begged her. It drove me crazy. Me mum was drunk most of the time. He'd hit me, she'd defend me, so he'd hit her." Ste paused for a few moments. "He was… he was an evil man." A tear fell down his cheek as he explained it. "I hated him so much. I had to get away. I wanted me mum to as well but… she would never leave him."
Brendan was silent as Ste spoke, his eyes never leaving his face. Ste felt uncomfortable all of the sudden. Like the calm before the storm. Brendan suddenly rubbed at his face viciously, and Ste realised, with surprise, that he was wiping a tear away from his eye. He was quiet again for a beat.
Then, "Where does he live?"
"Brendan!"
"I mean it Steven. Tell. Me." He said through gritted teeth.
"I don't even know!" Ste cried, desperate to calm the other man down. "I haven't spoken to 'em in years! Either of them…"
Brendan looked at the floor. "If I ever see him…" He murmured quietly, his voice hoarser than usual. His fingers were shaking as he held the stack of photos still.
He didn't even need to finish the sentence. "I know," Ste said, "but please… please calm down. I need ya."
This seemed to snap Brendan out of his state. Ste gently took the pictures out of Brendan's hands and put them back in the box, face down, where they belonged. He hastily put the rest of the things back, but Brendan stopped him.
"Wait… what's this?" He reached for the stack of letters.
Ste grabbed his hands. "They're private," he said, trying to pull Brendan's hands away.
"Well that's funny, because that one has my name written on top of it," he replied, pointing to a folded up piece of paper.
"Brendan…"
"What? It's addressed to me, I think I should read it."
"They're old, Brendan!" Ste said, sighing, and closing the box up, leaving the key in the lock. "I don't want to get into it now, please," he begged. He just wanted a bit of peace with the man he loved for once!
It dawned on him then. He sat there, frozen still, as the realisation came, and then everything else tumbled out after it, like the other day when Leah wanted a toy he'd literally just managed to pack into the top of their cupboard, and when he reached for it, everything just fell right down again, and he was back to square one.
That was exactly it. He hated it, but it was. He still loved Brendan.
He examined the thought in his mind, mentally turned it over and over again and realised, with faint horror, just how well it fit in the jigsaw his mind had become, and not only that, but how right it felt to admit it.
At the back of his mind, he'd always known. And with this thought came the realisation that all of this, the break up with Doug, the need to be alone this weekend… it all stemmed from the unconscious need to comfort Brendan over Lynsey. To let the man know that he understood, that he wasn't alone. It wasn't just a case of needing Brendan to be there for him, though it had been partly why- it was that he wanted him to know that he knew how difficult it was for him. Maybe he and Rae hadn't been lifelong friends like Brendan and Lynsey, but they were close, and he'd cared about her, and it'd hurt like hell when he lost her.
He became vaguely aware that Brendan was snapping his fingers in front of him. He glanced at him, and blinked. He must have spaced out. "Sorry," he said quietly.
"Fucking hell, Steven, for a second there I thought I was dealing with someone who was having a psychotic break or something," Brendan said with a relieved smirk. "Are you alright?" He asked, genuinely concerned.
"I'm alright…" Ste began, feeling that overwhelming need for honesty again.
Brendan didn't seem to believe him, so he sat up, wrapped his arm around Ste's shoulders and pulled him against him. For the first time in forever, Ste felt genuinely peaceful. He closed his eyes and relaxed into the other man's grip, nuzzling his face into his stubbly neck and sighing deeply. Brendan even seemed to relax a little. "You're not going to tell me?" He murmured softly against his ear.
Ste shivered noticeably at the action, and Brendan certainly didn't miss it. It was shockingly intimate. Ste moved in closer to the other man. "I just…" he began quietly. "I just thought I'd be okay with it." He said.
Brendan nodded. "I understand," he replied. And he did. He understood what it was like to look back, at all the memories of things you'd rather forget. He wanted to kill that Terry bloke, for daring to lay a hand on Steven - when he was only a baby, even. He remembered, distantly, that he was not much better. He'd hurt Steven, and even though he'd felt like saying it over and over again, he couldn't even bring himself to acknowledge it, to apologise, it brought him so much shame. But he'd meant it when he'd told Ste how he was done with using his fists, he really had. He never wanted to hurt Steven again.
But now, Steven had broken up with that loser he'd been with. Douglas. He was pretty, sure - Brendan had certainly enjoyed slamming him up against walls, but it made him sick to the stomach to think of him with Steven, his Steven, whose not-quite-so-skinny limbs belonged wrapped around him, whose mouth belonged pressed against his mouth, whose body belonged beneath him. Nobody else.
But he couldn't be with Steven… not right now, at least. It was too risky, with Sampson about, after what… after what he'd done to Lynsey. He couldn't bear the thought of the same thing -or worse, if it were possible - happening to Steven. But they could have tonight, he decided, and he held Ste tighter, as if he could in that one movement communicate all of his thoughts.
He planted a kiss on the top of the boys head and inhaled his scent, savouring it for the inevitable period he wouldn't be with him. Ste looked up at him with something in his eyes he hadn't seen for a long time. Devotion? Concern? …Love? He didn't know, but he felt like he was looking back down at him with just those things.
Brendan felt like it was him who kissed Steven, but in actual fact, it was more like both of them. Ste crawled into his lap and wrapped his arms around his neck as he turned his head to the side and deepened the kiss. Brendan's hands slid up the other man's clothed back and then back down again to slide beneath it, caressing milky tan skin that was warm against his cold fingers.
Ste got the hint and reached to the hem of his t-shirt to lift it up and off, only breaking their lip lock to pull it over his head before he reattached his mouth to the older man's. Brendan's hands continued exploring the newly revealed skin which sprung up in goosebumps as it was exposed to the cold hair of the bedroom. Ste was trying to lift Brendan's own shirt off now, and he succeeded, pushing himself closer until they were chest to chest.
Ste giggled into the kiss as he felt the welcome feeling of Brendan's coarse chest hair against his skin, and Brendan buried his face into Steven's neck, kissing along it. It was a welcome reminder - Doug was almost completely hairless, and Brendan was covered in it. Ste groaned and then suddenly yelped as he was bitten, moaning and arching his back as Brendan's teeth worked on kneading the flesh until a deep red mark appeared. Marking his territory, as usual. Ste rolled his eyes.
But Ste wasn't in the mood for that tonight. He pulled Brendan's head away from his neck and tilted it up to face him, where the space between them was peppered with pants falling from their open mouths. He kissed him again passionately, sliding his tongue against his and moaning, rubbing his tightening crotch against Brendan's eagerly.
Brendan decided that he'd had enough of the soft stuff now and let out a deep groan into their kiss. He wanted to be inside him, right now. He rolled them over so that Ste was on his back, picking up the wooden box and carefully placing it on the bedside table. He kissed down Steven's body until he found a nipple, which he laved over slowly, before blowing on it. Ste groaned and ran his fingers through Brendan's hair, stifling a giggle as his moustache tickled the sensitive flesh.
His lips trailed lower until he found a patch of rough hair at the waistband of Ste's jogging bottoms. He wasted no time in yanking them down, smirking at Ste as he realised he was not wearing any underwear. Ste smiled naughtily and lifted his hips up so that Brendan could pull them off.
Ste spread his legs welcomingly and Brendan groaned softly in his throat as he felt cock twitch at the sight of him, fully erect and eager. It had been far too long… he settled down between Ste's legs and nuzzled his crotch adoringly. He was torn between burying himself in the other man entirely, not wasting any time, and taking it slow. He settled for taking it slow- who knew when Ste would be willing to have Brendan back in his life again like he was right now.
He kissed the head of his cock gently and Ste squirmed beneath him, his fingers buried in his hair. Brendan took this as a sign to continue, and licked along the shaft a few times before swallowing him whole.
Ste moaned and bucked his hips off the mattress as he tried to push his cock deeper into Brendan's mouth, and his free hand gripped the pillow behind his head tightly as he bit his lip in pleasure. "Fuck, Brendan…" He moaned, trying desperately to push upwards.
Typical Ste, Brendan thought. He had to hold the boy's hips down tightly so he didn't gag. He didn't know the meaning of the phrase self control, even if it meant that he might choke his partner… Brendan continued bobbing his head up and down his shaft, hollowing his cheeks out as he increased the suction.
They carried on like that for a few more minutes until Brendan released him, panting harshly and crawling back up the length of the younger boy's body until he could catch him by the mouth again. Ste all but wrapped himself around him, raking his finger nails across Brendan's shoulders lightly.
Brendan sat up momentarily to undo his belt and push both his jeans and boxers down, before he kicked them off the end of the bed to land in a heap. He settled back down on top of Ste then, and kissed him deeply once more. Feeling a bit bolder, Ste ran his hands down Brendan's chest and stroked over his abdomen, which seemed to quiver beneath his touch.
Brendan groaned deeply in his throat and pushed them together until they were nestled against each other, and he rubbed himself against the boy below him. Ste's hand was trapped between them so he slid it up, the hairs on Brendan's chest sliding between his fingers.
Ste broke their lip lock momentarily to reach over to his drawer, feeling around for the box of condoms and lube. He fished them out and placed them on the bed beside him, and then returned to raking his nails down Brendan's back and bucking his hips against him, making their cocks rub together harder.
Fingers fumbling slightly with excitement, Brendan took the lube and squirted some onto his hand before he rubbed it against Ste's entrance. Ste moaned and jumped slightly at the coldness, but Brendan stroked over his hipbone soothingly and smirked at him as he gently pressed his middle finger inside.
He was tighter than he remembered. Something clicked inside Brendan's brain and told him that Doug really wasn't the dominant one, as he'd suspected. He smirked into the kiss and pulled away to watch the reactions on Ste's face with pleasure. He twisted his finger and pushed it in with his index finger a little harder, and chuckled as he bucked his hips and hissed in slight pain.
"Been that long, eh?" He said with an amused grin. "Douglas really isn't a giver after all, hm?"
"Shut up, Brendan," Ste said, glaring at him. He was certainly not in the mood to be talking about Doug. He hadn't even entered his mind since they'd begun, which left a lot to be said about how it was when he was with Doug… not that Ste was going to let Brendan in on any of this.
Kissing him again, Brendan got back to work. He began scissoring his fingers into the other man, using his other hand to rub his cock. Ste groaned and kissed down the older man's neck, nuzzling him there and arching his back, panting harshly. He bucked his hips up and yelped as Brendan found his prostate, and rubbed against the sensitive bundle of nerves there. "Fuck, Brendan…"
Brendan seemed to get the message and he pulled his fingers away from him, reaching for the condom. He tore it open with his teeth and rolled it onto himself, spread the rest of the lubricant over his cock and pressed the head of his dick against Ste's entrance.
Gasping, Ste wrapped his legs around Brendan's waist and hooked his ankles behind him. He let out a deep, long moan and Brendan pressed into him. H winced slightly in pain. It certainly had been a long time - far too long. He grimaced in discomfort and Brendan pushed forward until he was all the way in, and when he was, he let out a deep groan.
They lay like that for a few moments, Brendan allowing Ste to adjust to the all-consuming feeling of being well and truly filled. He stroked his hands over Brendan's back and finally relaxed a bit, letting his head fall back onto the pillow behind him. Brendan got the message and planted a deep, slow kiss on Ste's mouth, their tongues rubbing up against each other before he began moving gently, his brow furrowing in the pleasure he hadn't felt in nearly a whole year.
He really was something else, his Steven. No one had ever been able to compare to him. It was as if someone had cast a spell when this boy was born, a spell that meant he would grow into the manifestation of Brendan's perfect partner. He grunted and stroked Ste's thighs gently, his fingers ghosting over the angelic wheat-coloured hairs that peppered the sooth expanse of his skin.
Ste groaned and bucked his hips against him, grabbing his arse tightly. Alright. He sped up, grunting roughly in his throat as their hips slapped together. Ste let out beautiful moans beneath him, raking his nails down the muscles of his back and leaving stinging read marks there that he was going to wear with pride. He rubbed his abdomen against Ste's cock and kissed down the boy's neck hungrily. Ste tightened around him rhythmically- Brendan had a talent for hitting his prostate dead on, on every thrust, as if he had memorised it perfectly.
They were vaguely aware of the sound of Ste's bed hitting the wall behind it as they reached the climax. Ste arched his back suddenly, moaning out loudly and groaning Brendan's name as Brendan's hand found his cock, fisting it roughly and bringing him off beneath him. His moaning died out briefly in time for him to hear the string of obscenities Brendan let out in one long breath as he released into him.
They lay there like that for a few minutes, panting harshly, sweat-slicked bodies pressed against each other in the darkness of the bedroom. Ste closed his eyes, stroking over the raw marks he'd left on Brendan's flesh almost apologetically, even though he knew he didn't mind. He groaned tiredly at the unbelievably natural feeling of being entirely wrapped around the older man with his cock softening inside of him.
Eventually, Brendan seemed to reluctantly pull away from him and Ste was vaguely aware of the sound of him dealing with the condom, and then settling down beside him. He pulled a lethargic Ste to cuddle up against him. Ste's muscles felt like they'd turned to mush, but he still managed to throw an arm across his chest.
They laid like that for some time, Ste half asleep and Brendan running his fingers through his hair absently. Ste sighed, blinking his eyes open tiredly and glancing up at the man above him. "Thank you," he whispered after a moment, kissing him softly.
Brendan opened his eyes and looked down at him affectionately, in a way only reserved for him. "I should thank you." It really had helped him, more than he could say.
Somehow it felt like a barrier had been knocked down between them. It was like seeing those pictures had done more for them than Ste could have imagined, though he might not have been entirely aware of it at the time. Brendan had that peculiar feeling he'd felt when Ste and him had first started getting close. That here was someone who understood him on a level that no one else really did.
There was something changing in him though, he knew it. It was a kind of change that felt so massive that it left you unsure of whether it was going to be for the worse or the better. Recently he'd been dreading that it was for the worse, but somehow, inexplicably, tonight had sort of… well, shifted the equilibrium. And it didn't feel quite as bad.
Ste looked up at him with that look in his eyes again, just like the first night they spent together. He'd ached for that look.
"I love ye," he found himself whispering unexpectedly, and it almost seemed to shock him.
Ste looked away for one awful moment. Something deep moved in his eyes, and when he looked back they were a little clearer. "I love you too," he said.
Brendan kissed him, and Ste kissed back, stroking the side of his face.
There was plenty more to be said, but for tonight, they simply let their bodies do the talking. It seemed like everything that needed to be said had been said in those three words.
Not unlike many other nights spent in this bed, Ste was wide awake, despite the three rounds of mind-blowing sex he'd had that night. He wondered what exactly it was that drew him to Brendan in the first place- or rather, what it was about him that had him coming back for more, time and again. Why had he never been able to get him out of his head? Why could he not stop thinking about him?
His head nestled against Brendan's chest still, Ste's mind continued to wonder. He glanced up at the sleeping man through his eyelashes. He was gorgeous, sure - moustache and all. In fact, he quite liked it, the way it tickled him when Brendan kissed him. His dark blue eyes that betrayed him even when he thought he was doing a perfect poker face… though that was probably more to do with how well Ste could read him than anything. The little lines around his eyes and on his forehead. His smile, his hairy chest, his long fingers.
Yes, Ste was definitely more attracted to him than he'd been to any man before. It wasn't that other men weren't attractive, quite the opposite. Doug was certainly handsome- he'd never seen eyes as blue as his, and Noah had had an all but perfect physique. But they just didn't compare to Brendan in the slightest, for some reason. Brendan awakened something inside of him that everyone else just failed to entirely.
Ste found himself at a conclusion he'd found himself at countless times. Brendan was like the highest mountain in the range. He kept trying to find the top, and he was exhausted from the climb. People told him to give up, but it was his love for him that had made him carry on all these years. When Brendan had driven away from him after he had promised to go to Florida with him, it only cemented the idea he had in his mind that Brendan had given up on the two of them. The revelation had broken his heart; it had filled him with a sense of disappointment and devastation that he didn't think could ever be rivalled. Though he knew that Brendan loved him and certainly always would, he just didn't think it was enough. He was sick of trying. He wanted to be with Brendan so badly it hurt- properly with him. Not when he was manipulating him, hurting him and everyone else in his life. He just didn't have the energy to deal with it anymore.
He wiped a tear away from his eye. He'd promised himself that he'd avoid thinking about it tonight. No, tonight was made for them. It wasn't perfect, and certainly there was a lot of unfinished business between them. But for tonight, they could just dwell in the peaceful bubble they'd created; a sanctuary in the middle of the storm. Even if it was for one night only.
Ste glanced over at the wooden box that had been placed on his bedside table earlier on, and his mouth twisted in thought. He might never be able to look at those photos alone. That was a dream that might never come true. He would never get over what Terry and Pauline did to him. Likewise, he would never get over how Brendan hurt him. The grief and the agony it had caused him were like deep scars in his body, that would never go away no matter how hard you rubbed at them.
He furrowed his brow as he realised there was an inscription on the side of the box, a name carved into it. He reached over to it, careful not to wake Brendan, and turned it so he could read it better.
'Pandora'
…What was that story? He'd been told it at school years ago. The one with the girl who opened the box. Pandora's Box. While she kept it shut, she got everything she wanted. But after some time, curiosity got the better of her, and she opened it. After the chaos that ensued because of it, there was a light called hope.
Ste realised that maybe there was something in that story he should have paid more attention to than he had previously. That yes, while he would never get over what had happened to him, while it had hurt him, and while Brendan's father had hurt him, too, there was the hope that they would get through it. That they could continue wading through the mess until they found where they needed to be. Until they found the summit.
Maybe that was what he was missing. Maybe that was what kept him going with Brendan. Brendan needed to be with Steven because so few people really understood him, and Ste needed Brendan for the same reason.
One day, they'd learn how to stand together without knocking each other down. Ste was certain, and filled with a hope that radiated outwards from his body.
It was noon when Ste woke up the next day.
He lifted his head up from the pillow, and looked around blearily, blinking at the sunlight coming in through his window. Looking around himself, he realised that Brendan was gone. He sat up, and tried to quell the feeling of disappointment, his shoulders slumping. He laid back down on the bed, and sighed. Well, it was fun while it lasted.
Glancing to the side, he noticed a piece of paper sticking out of the box. He hadn't locked it. Pulling it out, he unfolded it.
'Joel needed me at the club this morning.
Sorry I couldn't stay.
Thanks for last night.
Brendan x'
Ste stared at it for a while, and then opened up the box to place it inside there with the other letters. But, to his horror, the letters were gone. He sat up suddenly and rummaged around inside of it desperately, looking to find them. Every last one of them was missing.
'Brendan must have taken them…'
Ste's heart thudded in his chest. What… what did this mean? Was Brendan just being nosy? Did he really care about what Ste had written?
It took him a few minutes to calm down, his mind reeling with anger and confusion. Truth be told, there wasn't much in there that he was bothered about Brendan reading. He'd intended to give them to him, after all. And he'd written them forever ago!
But maybe… maybe there were some things in there that were still relevant. Maybe Brendan needed to understand how Ste felt just as much Ste needed to understand how Brendan felt. Maybe Ste's need to comfort Brendan through understanding him went both ways.
After a while, Ste conceded, albeit reluctantly, that he didn't know why Brendan cared to read an old love letter. He might never know. But he hoped, somewhere that deep recess of his heart where Brendan dwelled, that maybe it was a step in the right direction. That maybe one day they'd talk about it.
Maybe.