Note: A one-off story set sometime during 2012. Brendan and Ste have tentatively started seeing each other again. For LMan:)


"I bet he's the bloke, isn't he? Whatsisname, the one with the tache."

It was meant to be a nice relaxing drink, just the two of them, Ste and Amy; a night off for both of them while Mike minded the kids. But then this little gang showed up, people Amy knew from her job at the coffee place, and they all wound up sitting together. And one or two of them knew the goss, that Ste and Brendan were together. Sometimes together, anyway; and anyway, that was enough, wasn't it? Enough to make him the target of their sniggering.

Ste had noticed that, since people had found out that he was gay, they reckoned they had the right to ask him all kinds. Stuff that would make you blush, things that they'd never have asked back when he'd thought he was straight – before Brendan put him right on that score. Girls, when they asked, it wasn't so bad because they sort of seemed to like it and were just a bit curious. But lads were aggressive with it, like they had a point to prove – they had to ask, they had to let you and each other know that they didn't get it, just to show that they weren't like you.

Lads like this plonker here, with his grin and his pint.

"I bet he's the bloke, isn't he? Whatsisname, the one with the tache."

"What you on about?" Ste didn't want to make things awkward for Amy; but seriously.

"You know. He does the man's job." The lad did a pumping gesture with his arms; his mates laughed. "And that means you've gotta be the girl, right?"

"We're both blokes." Ste felt Amy's hand on his arm, heard her say, Ste. Ste. He remembered what to do: breathe slow, so his breathing was the only thing he could feel, and count in his head. One. Two. Three. Four...

"Yeah that's right, tell yourself that, mate."

Fuck. Three. Four. Five...

"He's Arthur, you're Martha. That right?"

... Five...

The guy's mates laughed again.

Ste got up.

"D'you know what? You wouldn't last five minutes with Brendan, you. You wouldn't have the guts."

"Ste." Amy stood up and got between him and the other lad. "Let's go, we can go somewhere else, alright?"

:::::::

Stephen was on the early shift at the club the next day, and he wasn't himself. Brendan had tried to find out what the problem was: asked him if something was up with the kids, if he wasn't feeling well, if he was short of money. All he got in response to each question was a terse No or a shake of the head.

"Is it something I've done?" was his last-ditch attempt.

"No. It's nothing, Brendan, now will you just leave it?"

Fine. He wasn't going to mollycoddle the moody little fucker, it was no skin off Brendan's nose if the boy didn't want to tell him.

It bugged him though.

Brendan left the club and went to the coffee bar, hoping that Amy would be there; and she was.

She and Brendan had established a fragile entente cordiale; their mutual distrust was undying, but they tried to be civilised, for a quiet life and for the boy. Still, she looked surprised to see him.

"I'll have a tea, please, Amy, with - "

"I know how you take it," Amy said, and made it, and gave it to him.

Brendan paid, and stood and slurped a sip or two.

"Mmm, lovely." He paused. "Is Stephen okay?"

"Why d'you ask?" Amy looked suspicious.

Brendan felt a muscle twitch in his cheek.

"He's quiet. Not got his usual... vivacity."

Amy smiled a little.

"I think it might be because of what that lad said to him last night," Amy said carefully.

"What lad?" Brendan slammed his mug down on the counter, and its contents slopped over his hand.

Amy handed him a wad of napkins.

"It was just some stupid joke, Brendan. Only, I think Ste might have taken it to heart."

"Elaborate."

Amy sighed. She had no choice but to tell him; he wasn't going anywhere.

"There was this lad in the bar - "

"Who?"

"No-one. It doesn't matter, just some student. He... knew about... you and Ste... and he was sort of saying... well, implying... that you're the man and Ste's the woman." She swallowed. "And obviously, you're both men, and so Ste obviously got a bit..."

"Obviously."

"Don't tell him I told you though, Brendan, please, he'll only feel worse."

Brendan nodded, and left.

:::::::

Ste's mood remained the same. He was fed up with people judging him, thinking they knew what went on between him and Brendan. They judged Ste for going back to him, the ones who knew what Brendan had done to him before; and the ones who didn't know about the violence, they reckoned Brendan was a bit of a nutter anyway, and didn't get why Ste wanted to be with him. And now, it looked like people were judging his sex life too.

It was getting towards the end of his afternoon shift, when Brendan called him on his mobile.

"I'm working, Brendan, what d'you want?"

"That's nice, isn't it?"

"Sorry."

"'S'okay. I'm at home, Stephen. You wanna..?"

"Can't. I'm working tonight aren't I."

"No you're not. I checked the rota."

"No, I wasn't, but I am now. Cheryl just asked me to do an extra shift."

"And you agreed."

"Yeah."

"Well, un-agree. Jesus, Stephen, I've got the house to myself. How often does that happen?" He paused, and continued more gently. "Cheryl will manage, yeah?"

"Okay."

Ste went and found Cheryl, and told her he'd have to pull out of the evening shift.

"It's Amy, see, she needs me to look after the kids."

"I thought they were with their granddad?"

"Erm..."

"I wouldn't mind, love, but Brendan's taken the night off as well..." She stopped. "Oh, right."

Ste felt himself blush, and looked at the floor.

"So can I go now?"

"Go on then." Cheryl smiled and shook her head at him. "Just don't go doing anything I wouldn't do, okay?"

Ste kissed her on the cheek, and ran off to Brendan's.

:::::::

Brendan got a beer out of the fridge and had just opened it when Stephen knocked on the door. He handed it to him as he let him in.

"Ta."

"You in a better mood now, Stephen? Cos to be honest with you, I'm finding it a bit wearisome."

Stephen tutted.

"Who says I'm in a mood, eh?" He looked at Brendan moodily, then took a swig from the beer bottle.

Brendan watched his Adam's apple fall and rise as he tipped back his head and gulped his drink. Jesus, the most innocent things were a provocation when this boy did them. Brendan stepped closer to him.

"Better now?" He took the bottle from Stephen's hand and drank from it himself; and before he'd swallowed it they were kissing. It was always easier than talking.

As the beer swilled between their mouths, a trickle escaped down Stephen's chin, and Brendan lapped it up with his tongue. Stephen smiled, and had shed his clothes by the time they got to Brendan's bedroom. Brendan was still holding the bottle, and Stephen took it and finished it as he sat on the edge of the bed watching Brendan undress.

Brendan grabbed some condoms and lube from the drawer and put them on the bedside cabinet.

Stephen was waiting for him now, lying back, his knees bent and parted ready for Brendan to slot in between them. But Brendan didn't do that. Instead, he took hold of Stephen's ankles and pulled his legs straight, then straddled them and sat on his thighs. Stephen looked puzzled; Brendan swooped down and kissed away the frown lines on his forehead. When their mouths met again, Stephen's Mmm of pleasure made Brendan kiss him more avidly, biting and sucking on his lips. Stephen's fingers raked through Brendan's hair.

Brendan pulled away and sat up. Stephen didn't want to let him go; Brendan had to take the boy's hand and prise it off the back of his neck, and while he held it, he stretched out Stephen's arm and ran his tongue from the crook of the elbow to the wrist, pausing for a moment to feel the beat of his lover's pulse against his lips. Stephen giggled and squirmed. Brendan slowly licked the sweat from his palm.

Then Brendan reached for a condom and the bottle of lube, sat back on Stephen's thighs, and ripped open the packet. He gave Stephen's cock a couple of rough strokes, and began to roll the condom onto it. This was new: he had never put a rubber on another man before. Brendan had bought them this afternoon, mildly embarrassed to be buying a smaller size than usual, but knowing it would be worse if he'd said, They're not for me...

Stephen propped himself up on his elbows.

"What you doing?"

Brendan pumped out a blob of lube and smeared it onto the tip of the condom.

"Gonna make a man of you, kid."

Stephen was wide-eyed. Brendan laughed, and leaned down to kiss him again. Then he positioned himself, knees either side of Stephen's body, and reached behind himself for his lover's cock. It was impressively hard: well it would be, wouldn't it, it didn't take much to get that way when you were twenty-two.

He had to wriggle a bit and take his time to get it inside him. He hadn't done this for years, not since the first man he'd ever been with, back when he was hardly more than a kid himself even though he was already a dad. That was before Brendan worked out what he liked, what felt right, what he wanted to have done to him and what he didn't. Benjamin had called the shots, but he'd been the last man who ever did.

Brendan tried to remember the technique, easing himself down onto Stephen's cock, exhaling as steadily as he could, until he was sitting on the boy's pelvis.

Stephen's mouth gaped as he gasped: he looked astonished, but his eyes shone with desire. His face and chest were flushed and blotchy. His lips looked bruised where Brendan had bitten, the skin around them reddened from his abrasive stubble. Brendan was rocked for a moment by a wave of love for this boy.

"Let me know when you're in, will you?" he said gruffly.

"What?"

"Let me know when you're in. It's hard to tell, see, cos you ain't exactly - "

"Oi!" Stephen gave Brendan's chest a shove. "I am in."

"Yeah? Coulda fooled me."

Stephen didn't look as if he appreciated Brendan's teasing. Brendan took his mind off it by beginning to move, slowly at first, up and down, forward and back. Stephen grasped Brendan's thighs and began to thrust against him; his cries and moans grew louder as Brendan went faster. Brendan loved the noises this lad made, uninhibited and unfiltered by any thought of what sounds he ought to make: he existed in the moment, never needing to fight his way through layers of denial and conflict.

There was a frisson of pain doing this, that Brendan wasn't used to, and a different kind of satisfaction. He leaned forward, his hands pressing Stephen's shoulders down into the mattress. There was a pleasure too in the sensation of his balls slapping against Stephen's belly each time he landed on him.

Stephen had shut his eyes. Brendan sat up again, then down on him hard – hard enough to make himself wince and inhale sharply – and stopped moving. In a moment or two, Stephen opened his eyes.

"What is it?" he asked, frowning.

"Any danger of you lifting a finger, you lazy bugger?" Brendan pointed at his own cock. "Bit of attention here, yeah?"

Stephen grinned.

"Oh, right." He began to work on Brendan's cock with both hands.

It became a bit chaotic then; their rhythms were out of sync, and it turned out Stephen couldn't multi-task, so the minute Brendan's jockeying picked up speed again, he let go of Brendan's cock and grabbed onto his hips instead.

When Stephen came it was with a scream, and he lay flat out, his hands flung above his head on the pillows, the dark hair under his arms flattened with sweat. His chest rose and fell as he panted through parted lips.

Brendan reached for another condom – not one from the pack he'd bought for this occasion, but one of his own this time. He put it on himself while Stephen was still inside him, then eased off the boy and jolted him back from wherever his mind had taken him, by pushing his legs apart and sliding a lubricated finger into him.

Stephen was ready in moments, clutching wildly at Brendan's neck and arms as he entered him; his legs wrapped around Brendan's back, forcing their bodies closer. Their mouths clashed and kissed.

The familiarity was thrilling, and Brendan allowed his grunts and moans to match Stephen's cries, to let him know that this was right.

:::::::

They'd both fallen asleep, tired out.

When Ste woke up, he was nestled under Brendan's arm, his head resting heavily on his lover's shoulder. He watched Brendan's chest moving as he gently breathed.

"Brendan?" Ste wasn't sure if he was awake, until a grunt came in reply. "Erm, has someone said something to you? Have you been talking to Amy?"

He hoped Brendan was drowsy enough that the question wouldn't get him agitated.

Brendan sighed. He opened his eyes and looked at Ste for a second, then shut them again.

"Yeah that's right, Stephen, I'm always having cosy chats with your ex."

"Alright, sarky."

Brendan was right, it was a daft question, Brendan and Amy wouldn't ever have a conversation about a thing like that. It would freak Brendan out, for a start, and he'd be more likely to go after that wanker with the big mouth if he'd got to know about what had been said, and give him a battering, than to do what he'd just done in bed for Ste.

Anyway, it didn't matter any more what that lad had said yesterday; Ste didn't know why it had even bothered him. Brendan was so... Ste knew there was a word he wanted, and he concentrated hard until it came to him: ferocious. So ferocious in everything he did: arguing; eating; kissing. Fighting with you. Fighting for you. Taking on the world. Fucking. Loving. So ferocious that you had to be a man to take him on, to survive him. You had to be a man to be enough for him. Nobody knew what they were like together. Nobody knew how their love worked.

"You okay?" Brendan's voice was a warm rumble.

"Yeah."

"You liked that, then?"

"Yeah." Ste smiled up at Brendan.

"Well, don't get used to it, kid."

Brendan smiled sleepily. Ste kissed his jaw lightly, the stubble scratchy against his lips.