Another Forever
A/N:
There is non-canon angst in this, and I'm really sorry – I know nobody needs it at the moment but it's all in the aim of making them happier, and giving them an entire life together!
About this fic:
This is a plot fic – I know my timing sucks! But there's been thousands and thousands of plot bunnies running around in my head for nearly as long as I've been watching this show and I've finally turned them into an actual storyline! So I'm gonna go with it (it's only about 6 chapters anyway – my 6 chapter farewell to Stendan!)
The first bit is at the end of this year, Brendan goes to prison for eighteen months rather than the other :( You know I try my hardest to avoid spoilers, so I've kept the "crimes" purposefully vague and hopefully with early release/extended time that can stay a little true to canon.
It's gonna be "One Day" style, told in New Years Eves/New Years Days across the boys' lifetimes. Apart from the prologue and epilogue each chapter will be a different year.
Warning:
M throughout, particularly this chapter.
Non-canon angst.
Let me know what you think, reviews really really mean a lot :D I'm away for two weeks so you get two chapters in one go! But next chapter is pretty much written :)
Here's for the show:
Prologue – Another Goodbye
1/1/2014
Ste can't speak. He's not sure he'd know the right words to say even if he could locate his larynx behind the barricade of half-bitten protests and sounds. He hadn't been expecting this, not today.
"I can't, I don't want you to come here again."
He'd waited five months to get a visiting order, had pretty much broken his own heart with the waiting, and the obsessing about just how many times Cheryl had seen her brother and he hadn't. How, and why and how long he'd be left out in the cold; and the what if's and begs to be let back in.
But then he'd finally got it - the request for a visit, on New Year's Day of all days – the sign of hope right? And his heart had remembered to beat. Then, when he'd seen Brendan walking towards him he could feel oxygen fill his body. Despite the hard man mask of black eye and prison beard, just looking inside those familiar blue eyes he could feel his reasons why.
But he wasn't expecting this, not today.
"Steven, did you hear me? I said I don't want you to come here again."
"I'm," Ste swallows hard, isn't sure how to form these words, feels like he's said them a thousand times already. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you at first, and I'm really sorry about Kevin. Brendan, right I'm proper sorry, I l-"
I love you his heart screams but the words dry out in his mouth.
Brendan's hands meet his on the table, and Steven hangs onto the touch like it's the only thing keeping him real.
"This isn't about anything you've said or done Steven, it's really, really not."
He loses that touch again.
"Eighteen months, I've gotta pay eighteen months," the old, tired man in front of him says.
"Yeah and you've already done six – that's like a third right?"
"And then I can't come back to Chester, even if I could you know we couldn't just start from where we left of."
I can't just go back to trying to give you the future you deserve Steven, we can't try to convince Amy, I can't pretend to be that man you need anymore, not now, after everything. Brendan's so close to saying those words, so close he can almost feel them form on his tongue. But he can see Ste is about to break down, doesn't want to push him - doesn't think that even he could take a snapshot of their imagined future. The future that a few hellish months ago he had felt close enough to to taste.
"We're not worth waiting eleven months for, Steven." He says instead, "move on with your life, you know go back to Douglas or-"
"Doug?!"
"Or find someone else, just… be happy, please?"
"Brendan-"
"You're not gonna come here again, I don't want to see you."
31/12/2014
"I didn't just want-" the words are drowning out into Steven's kiss again.
Brendan can't take this, he didn't want this. This was never supposed to be just a booty-call. He wanted Steven to be angry, to shout and demand answers, justification for their year of separation. He'd taken many steps to make Steven angry. He'd lasted six weeks on the outside without seeing him – it had been near on torturous but he'd managed it. He'd waited till three oclock on new year's eve to text him, hoping he'd be drunk and in the mood for a row. He purposefully hadn't made his text a question – more a demand, knowing that would really tip him over the edge. And, as a safety precaution he'd kept the beard – he really thought Steven didn't fancy him with a beard.
"I always wanted to kiss the beard," Steven confirms he was wrong, his teeth and lips trailing all over the stubble.
Brendan had really wanted them to talk, to really talk about everything. See if there was any way they could get back what they had lost. He hadn't just wanted sex with the boy. But the moment he'd opened the door of the council flat, he could see the lust in Steven's eyes, in every inch of his face. And it was as soon as he shut that door that Steven's kiss had started. Steven had turned them around, pushing Brendan hard up against the wall, grinding and moaning, growing hard and desperate.
Steven's heat rebounds around Brendan, all over him and this cold drab flat. That all-consuming soul-burning heat. And he can't resist this, not when he'd spent so long without any human contact, and when this was Steven.
His Steven.
He couldn't take this.
As soon as Steven falls down on the bed, he makes sure he's standing, takes a couple of steps back. His eyes reflex all over Steven's face, drinking in every inch of him. He's so on fire Brendan can see it in every cell and the breadth of that amazing come-hither smile. But it just takes one look in those eyes to know Ste's not really here. He's ready and willing and capable of giving Brendan everything, but he wouldn't take anything in return. He'd just give him his body; let him use this for sex, for cheap bodily thrills.
That is not what Brendan wants.
"Look, Steven," Brendan's hand brushes up against his forehead. "you know, we need to talk."
"Why? Why do we have to pretend this is anything more than what it is?"
Ste reaches up and slowly raises the tight white T above his head, he sucks in his stomach, wants Brendan to remember him exactly as he was. He doesn't want him to know him as someone who comfort eats now he's lost everything else. He needs Brendan to want him.
The moment Ste sees that familiar lust darken the midnight blue he knows he's winning.
He reaches out, loops a finger around Brendan's belt loop and pulls him forward. Leans in and lets the scent of Brendan circle around him, drown his senses into lust. He presses his nose, his chin right against Brendan's jeans, feels his hardness just millimetres away now.
"Fuck you're proper hard Brendan. It's been a while right?"
The question is like ice over Brendan, he hates that his boy thinks he's been with anybody else. He doesn't want Ste ever to doubt the power of this or believe that rebound would just be easy. He would be a million miles away if leaving Steven was easy.
"Steven-"
Ste pulls back, pulling the grey vest he remembers out of Brendan's jeans, licks a stripe up to his navel. He always knew Brendan's body so well.
"Has it been a while?"
"Yes."
Ste runs a finger up and down Brendan's waistband, then dips right down, right across his cock. Brendan doesn't mean to let the keen fall from his lips.
"Take em off," Steven instructs, pointing degenerately at Brendan's jeans and boxers.
He watches Brendan's movements with an expression like he's starved, like Brendan's unveiling the best looking treats he's ever seen. Just that look causes Brendan's fingers to fumble over his jeans like he's never taken off his own clothes before.
The moment Brendan is free between them, Ste loosens his jaw, widens his lips and when he meets Brendan's gaze his request is so clear.
Brendan's nothing but a man, and a sinner at that, how can he hope to resist? He thrusts right into that mouth, knows Steven can take it, places two soft hands on the back of his head, just in case. Every cell in his body needs this. He's yearned for this release, thought about it every night, dreamed of the peace.
He fucks that beautiful mouth. The boy's moans spurring him on, making him work harder, faster till he's nothing but a whimpering wreck of sensitised nerve endings.
Then Steven's tongue drags along the underside of his cock and the contact – the contact of someone else doing something is almost too much to take. But it's not just someone else, it's Steven, and that something is that little trick that has never been anyone else but Steven. Brendan feels his mind slip away. The boy's name forms in his mouth like an impulse, drops and is followed by others so their surrounded by the sound of Ste's name as only Brendan says it.
And then those beautiful blue eyes reach up to his man and there's never been a time that either has forgotten how good this looks.
Brendan shatters to it now, doesn't think he could hold back even if he wanted. Lost in the midst of the sight and the feel and the sound of Steven.
He drops to the floor quickly. He removes Steven's clothes like he's famished. He takes Steven's hard throbbing member into his fist and pumps rapidly.
It's a matter of moments before Steven's whimpering, crying out the way he does before he comes. And without really thinking about anything other than Steven's body, Brendan grasps his hips, pulls him forward, off the bed.
The sudden thrust makes Steven's eyes open wide and his legs shake as he kneels on the rough carpet.
"Fuck!" Steven yelps as his world grows dizzy.
But Brendan's hand is on the small of his back, steadying him, and then those two fingers are thrusting deep into him. His head tilts back as a long keen submits from his lips – no-one has ever felt as good as Brendan, has ever wrecked him as deeply.
Brendan lies down on the floor in front of his boy, pumps his cock hard in a closed fist, scissors his fingers inside him. Brushes right up against the sweet spot inside him. Opens his mouth and collects all Steven is on his tongue, swallows him all down.
Steven watches dumbfounded as Brendan licks up the bits his mouth couldn't quite hold - those eyes spelling possession and ownership.
They sit side by side on the cold carpet, panting and weak, satiated but still so desperate. Naked bodies rested against the foot of Brendan's bed, not a millimetre of a touch between them. The only noise is the sound of the street, a party across the road; and the rushing of their hearts, the beating of their minds trying to work out how to start all the things that are unsaid.
When the countdown to midnight starts up Ste smirks silently to himself – happy new bloody year Ste, because you've never been here before.
From nowhere Brendan can hear Cheryl's twelve year old voice, "the person you kiss at midnight is the person you kiss for the whole year." He looks at Steven now and hopes against God that's true. Because there are many things he doesn't know, like where they're going to go from here, how to apologise, explain, and why the hell Steven is smirking like that. But there's two things he's sure of - he doesn't ever want to kiss anyone else, and he will never ever be worth this.
The moment the clocks chime and the drunken singing of a familiar song no-one ever remembers the words to starts Brendan's hand reaches to cup Steven's chin. Their midnight kiss is his only craving. Steven's head turns to face him, but he doesn't meet him half way, his body doesn't even lean towards him, and Brendan knows he can't just take this now. Not these days.
"I'll go," Ste suggests.
The calm words bring Brendan's head to a storm, and all he can do is shake his head.
Ste catches himself smiling at Brendan's expression, it's almost enough to believe that this wasn't just about sex after all. He barely has the energy to resist as Brendan's soft "not yet," is breathed, and his fingers join around his wrist as he climbs into bed.
Those blue-grey eyes, that look like they've forgotten what sleep is, beg Ste to rest with him. And Ste's not going to refuse an order so simple.
Ste grabs his shirt as he stands up, suddenly self-conscious.
Brendan's body was so hard the last time he came back from prison, and even though Ste hasn't yet explored every inch as thoroughly as he would like, he is pretty sure tonight is no different.
As Ste climbs into bed, Brendan silently questions the presence of his t-shirt.
"I put on a bit of weight," somehow the confession falls easily between their resting hearts.
Brendan raises an eyebrow, surprised.
"Where?" He asks resting himself on one elbow, his eyes drinking over Steven's still perfect form, doubting that there's any part of Steven that has changed.
"Brendan-"
"No. Where?" He asks, lifting the white t-shirt from the boys golden skin.
Brendan explores every inch of him, takes his time now their hearts are slightly calmer. And he gets some perverted satisfaction at the thought that Steven must have been on a sun bed this afternoon. He hates the boy to tan, loves his natural pale youthful skin, but it's a sign they were always going to end up here tonight.
"Eh? Where's this weight?" He teases, and watches his boy's cheeks fill with colour. Allows his heart to take a beat – he forgot how beautiful that look is.
"Oh," he says, pinching at Steven's underbelly, though belly was really too harsh a word. If there was possibly an extra inch of skin, it only made the boy look irresistible. His tongue runs along Steven's waist, and reading Ste's body fluently reaches down, all the way down, so his tongue laps at the head of his hardening cock. Steven rests his legs on Brendan's shoulders, allows greater access, and Brendan takes everything greedily. His tongue running down the boy's perineum, flicking in and around and over that hole. His hands cup that smooth golden arse, lifts him up so Ste arches his hips backwards some more, as incredibly flexible as always.
When Brendan was alone in the prison darkness he was pretty certain his hungry imagination had extended how amazing this arse was. He thought that the deprivation had played hallucinogenic effects on his memory - no-one's arse could be that fuckable. But he can see now, in the harsh light of his flat that he had positively depreciated it. Ste's arse is smooth, golden, taut perfection.
He takes a bite of his lover's skin, knowing it would pull that breathy laugh from his lips. His index finger strokes over Steven's hole, pressing inside. He lies on the bed, coming closer to watch, and licks around his fingers at that greedy muscle.
Ste grows desperate quickly, crying and arching and bending onto those fingers.
"Please, Brendan, please fuck me?" the familiar beg from Steven's lips does something to Brendan he's not even aware of and he moves quickly. Predatorily taking what's only remained his even when he's been far too away for far too long.
Quickly almost simultaneously he strips that offending t-shirt from Steven's skin, reaches for the supplies, lubes up Steven's arse.
Brendan puts the condom on out of habit and custom more than anything else. Steven just lets him, assuming that's the answer to his deepest fears – that there had been somebody else in prison.
With Steven's legs still on his shoulders, Brendan shifts his weight forward, his hands resting either side of the boy's shoulders. There's a quick silent request for certainty and an instantaneous beg. And then their united again. And it's hard claiming, relentless, clawing sex. Hair is pulled and skin is marked. Fingers claw, mouths bite, screams stretch, and Steven's certain he can feel that moustache and beard burn every part of his body.
Neither remember specifics of the sex afterwards, just that it was far too short, they wanted to stay like that forever, and when they did come, both felt like their minds were exploding.
The come down is warm now they're wrapped in each other. Sometime after, Brendan notes that he's probably squashing the boy. But he doesn't want to move and he's enfolded in Steven's legs and arms. There's no escape even if he did choose it.
Eventually he pulls away, and sinuously their bodies stretch out side by side. Brendan brushes his thumb over Steven's cheek. His boy looks spent, entirely satiated. And there is nothing Brendan wants to do more than fall asleep next to him. But the hammer in his heart is the only reminder he needs that this can only be a fantasy. He can't let the boy see how much prison damaged him, Ste can never be a witness to the visions he must bare every night.
"Now, now you should go."
31/12/2015
"Got a deal going on?" Ste asks, feigning nonchalance as he licks at his pizza smeared fingers.
"What?"
At first Brendan can't believe he asked it, thinks he misheard it, but as soon as he looks into Steven's eyes he can see the truth in the question.
"No," he insists tries to take the boy's hand but his grasp is dislodged for pizza. "Steven I left that behind, you know that. I promised you that."
"Yeah and it's not like you to break a promise is it?"
No words are needed other than those, their memories still so fresh between them. I won't leave you, I won't hurt you again – they can still hear the crush of all those beneath their feet.
"You only act like this when you're scared," Steven says eventually, his tone a little softer than he intended. It still makes Brendan jump plain out of his skin though.
"Like what?"
"Like this – proper jumpy!"
The boys are sitting on Brendan's rucked up bed, eating post-sex pizza, naked. Tonight has gone how every night has always gone for them, especially over the last year – disappearing into lustful cries and licentious begs as soon as Steven steps through the door. They don't meet up a lot; Ste's busy these days with the business and his need to avoid Brendan as much as possible. The need to pretend he lives something like a normal life, and doesn't just feel close to life here – in the council house the prison had set up for his ex, the place he's never invited to and always told to leave. Brendan's only wish is to be everything Ste wants of him, and he's spent these last twelve months with a deep boned loneliness knowing calling him back will only ever be selfish. But he's stronger than he was last year, so much stronger than the year before, and now he thinks he possibly could be something comparable to what Steven needs. So he lets himself speak.
"Maybe I am scared."
"Why?"
"Because of you," Brendan gains Steven's gaze in the height of the confession, "Steven, you make me scared."
He loses that gaze again, as quickly as he gained it.
"What?"
"Because," no matter how much he wishes, he can't stop now. "Because I can't do this, this, and I don't know how to do the other either, you know to just leave you be, I can't do that either."
Steven's eyes trail up the old wary man in front of him, wishes that had been a confession of love, would have done everything for Brendan's words to have been a confession of love.
He's been sitting here with a choice. At Christmas Amy had told him they're moving away, to Northern Ireland of all places! She's got a teaching job there, but she didn't want to take the kids to a whole new country without Ste, wasn't sure how they'd settle being an entire flight away. So she wants Ste to move with them. She said it wouldn't have to be forever, he could come back in a couple of months when the kids were happier, but did he really want to stay in Chester? She said no-one knew what he was hanging around for anyway – wasn't it just full of old memories?
So if that had been a confession of love Ste would have happily given his world to Brendan, it was only ever his in the first place. But he knows the verse wasn't about love, it was about fear and need and addiction. Somewhere along the road they had become addicted to each other and ever since then this whole thing had been about leaving, about the desire to escape. Brendan's speech is a parallel to the feelings he had given before Dublin, when Ste had begged to be asked to stay. Ste knows that Brendan would always do everything to avoid giving him a future, because when it came down to it he just doesn't love him enough to pose the fight they would need.
So as Ste lets Brendan kiss him like he needs it, he knows the man would rather be doing anything else in the world.
Brendan feels Ste's lenient, willing, body beneath his own and thinks this is closer to love than he's been in years, since that time in the deli when they baked bread. He knows it's not really an answer, he knows genuinely that more sex is really the last thing they need right now. But he can't stop, doesn't ever want to stop. He wants to give Ste everything he ever longs for, begs for. So he uses his body to promise this won't ever end. It's silent this sex, but Brendan makes every body arch a vow that he will always remember that this is closer to heaven then he will ever get. The count to the new year starts when Brendan is inside his boy. And as it lasts he looks deep into Steven's eyes and hopes that maybe this is the year they start again. 2016 could be the year they stop wasting time.
When they finish he pulls himself away. Leaving with a lasting kiss before he takes himself alone to the shower, giving the boy time alone with his thoughts.
To Ste the abandonment is proof that that was the taste of goodbye. But the moment he feels the tears start he hears his phone vibrate a text.
Amy – Ste (00.30am): Happy New Year babe! Made up your mind yet? xxx
He feels the promise of a new start beckoning and hears Brendan's humming in the shower behind the locked door. Knows this is the only sign he needs.
Ste – Amy (00.33am): HNY 2 u guys 2. N yeah, will move wit you. Thanks. Will fone in morn. xxx
He changes quickly, silently. He makes one last goodbye with his hand resting on the closed bathroom door before he walks away.
"OK we'll do it your way, I'll leave you, you won't ever have to see me again, and… thanks - for finally telling me what you want."