This is set during Ste & Brendan's time living together as a proper couple. Amy has already taken the kids; Brendan has since confessed the truth about his childhood to Ste, but Seamus has left the village instead of being found out. I'm aware that the plot for this chapter has probably been done before, but I always had an idea as to how these scenes might play out, so had to write it anyway. As the description suggests, I'm considering making this a series of chapters showing scenes I'd like to have seen, so please let me know if you like this first one :)

Domesticity

1)

Ste tried to fight off the growing rage that was bubbling inside his head as he attempted to open the front door to the flat. He was so distracted that it took him another minute before he realised he was using the key to the Deli.

Then he dropped the whole set of keys on the floor.

He let out a loud scream in frustration and slammed a hand against the door. Then he hit it a second and third time. And then the door gave way unexpectedly.

"What the bloody hell...Steven?"

Ste hastily snatched his keys up off the ground and looked at Brendan as he stood, arms folded, in the doorway.

"Oh. What are you doing home?" his voice shook with the anger he was still dying to let out, but the sight of his boyfriend looking so concerned had thrown him somewhat.

"I got hungry, went for an early lunch. Left Maxine in charge, more fool me. And ye?"

"Er, Doug reckoned I should take the rest of the day off," Ste told him, walking inside and taking off his jacket.

"Did he now?" Brendan asked, one eyebrow raised suspiciously. "That what's got ye attacking our front door, is it? I'm surprised ye even listened to him."

"Just...don't ask, right? It's nothing to do with him."

The older man stared at him in shock and wonder, but didn't press the matter. But shock soon turned to worry when Steven's phone went off, and he watched him retrieve it from his pocket, glance at the message and then hurl it to the floor.

"Why won't she just leave me alone?!"

"Steven..." Brendan tried to approach him, but he took a few steps back.

"No, wait a minute. I need...I need to calm down."

He was counting under his breath for a good few minutes before his breathing became calmer again.

"Better?"

He nodded. "A bit. Learnt that in anger management. Doesn't always work, though." He went to sit down on the sofa, gesturing for Brendan to join him. "Sorry I went a bit mad there."

Brendan merely stared at him, amazed. "Ye kidding me? At least ye can control ye temper."

"Like I said, it doesn't always work," Ste shrugged.

"So, what happened?"

There was a silence while Ste closed his eyes and wondered where to start. "It's me mam. She rang earlier, left a message. I should never have listened to it."

Brendan tensed beside him, remembering an old conversation and a non-negotiable request that had obviously been wasted on the woman. "What did she say?"

"It's Terry – me step-dad. He's dead."

The words hung in the air, and neither of the men knew what to say next.

After a minute, Ste moved to picked up his phone, then sat back down. "I shouldn't even be bothered. I always said I'd go and dance on his grave. But now he's gone, it means he'll never have to face up to what he did. He's just...got away with it, you know what I mean?"

Brendan nodded, and the younger man suddenly covered his face with his hands.

"Sorry, of course you know," he added, thinking of Seamus who had now disappeared back to Ireland – a very welcome development. It sometimes escaped him that the man he loved had been through an even darker childhood than himself. But that was only because that man refused to be a victim any longer; especially since his father's departure.

They barely ever discussed what he'd been through after that day when he'd found out the truth, and Ste understood that perfectly. He'd rather have been doing anything than talking about Pauline and Terry right now.

But he had to tell someone how he was feeling.

"Ye ma wants you at the funeral, then?" Brendan asked softly, choosing not to acknowledge the reference to his own past.

"Well, that's what she says." The bitterness in his tone was unmissable.

"Don't let her mess with ye head, Steven. Ye are better than that."

Ste stood up again and paced the room, his frustrations growing again. "Yeah well, you don't know her. It's hard not to let her get to me - it's what she's good at."

"I reckon I know enough."

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Act like you know exactly how me mam's mind works. You've got no idea," Ste told him pointedly.

"After the last time she turned up, I beg to differ."

Brendan realised his mistake instantly. This wasn't something he'd ever intended Steven to find out about.

"What are you on about?"

"Nothing, I just meant..."

"Brendan, you'd better tell me what that's supposed to mean!" Ste's glare was piercing. He was going to have to come clean.

"I may have had a little run in with her during her last visit," he explained, shamefaced.

This was new territory for Brendan. He just didn't do guilt; but he was swallowing a large dose of it now. Even the knowledge that he'd done what he'd done out of love for Steven wasn't enough to ease his conscience. He knew full well that if the roles were reversed, he'd be just as angry.

"And were you just never gonna tell me?" Ste demanded. "Go on, then, make my day. What did she have to say for herself?"

"Not a lot. Mainly because I gave her money and told her to leave ye alone for good."

There was a loud snort. Not so much in disbelief, but rather half amusement, half irritation.

"That worked out well, then. How much?"

Brendan was more than a bit reluctant to let on, but Steven gave him a look that told him he had no choice. He mumbled the figure almost inaudibly, but still it was heard perfectly.

Ste went pale. Clearly his concept of bribery money differed massively from Brendan's. The amount they were talking beggared belief as far as he was concerned.

He let out a long moan. "Oh God, I can't believe you! She'll have spent the whole lot on booze, you know."

"I'm sorry. I saw how upset ye were that night in the Deli and then when I saw her the next day, I just couldn't help myself. I wanted to get her out of ye life."

Taking in Brendan's pleading gaze, Ste softened slightly. "I know. You're an idiot, but I still love you for doing it."

Then something else dawned on him, and he gasped.

"Steven?"

"That's what she wants – money! She'll be wanting more now, she'll just be saying it's for his funeral." He pressed a few buttons on his phone, replaying his mother's answer phone message on speaker phone so they could both hear it.

"Hiya son, it's me. Can you call me back? It's your father. He's...he's dead, love. Give us a ring, will you?"

Putting his phone down, Ste shook his head at the use of the word 'father' for a man like Terry. And at his mother's pathetic attempt to sound...well, to sound like a mother.

It disgusted him.

"She'll turn up here. I know she will. She thinks she can bleed you dry after last time, I can tell you that now. Well she's not getting another penny out of you, right? Or me, if the Deli was even doing well enough to make any."

Brendan stood then, positioning himself in front of Ste and taking his face in his hands. "Hey, look at me. Calm down. I promise ye, she won't be coming anywhere near ye again. And no, I won't be giving her anymore money. Okay?"

"I can handle her, Brendan. I know it looks like I can't, right, but that's just because she..."

"Gets under ye skin, yeah, I know the feeling," he leaned closer until his forehead was touching Steven's. He could hear the younger man's breathing calming down once again.

"Thanks," Ste said softly, wrapping his arms around him and pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

"For what?"

"Calming me down."

Brendan chuckled lightly. "Makes a change, doesn't it," he remarked drily, thinking of his own breakdowns that had often been so much worse.

~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~

It was about half past two in the morning when they were woken by a hammering on the front door.

Brendan was the first to rouse.

"What the hell is that?"

Ste sat up and rubbed his eyes, listening quietly until he heard the noise again. "It's the door," he blurted out stupidly.

"Well I didn't think it was the phone, Steven," Brendan replied wryly as he got out of bed to investigate.

The pounding continued right up until the moment he violently wrenched open the door and came face to face with Pauline Hay.

"Can I help ye?" he asked rudely.

"Well look who it is," she answered over-cheerfully. "The money man!"

Brendan folded his arms over his chest, and was about to respond when Steven came up behind him.

"Go home, you're bladdered," Ste told her darkly.

"Oh, so you're with him now are you, son?" Pauline challenged instead, gesturing towards Brendan. "And what happened to Dougie?"

He chose to ignore that.

"Right, come on then, why are you here?"

She pushed her way into the flat before either of the men could act fast enough to stop her. It was only then they noticed the bottle of beer she was holding, which she now went to swig from.

"Didn't you get me message? Your father's passed away." She managed to look solemn for all of five seconds before hiccupping and then letting out a drunken giggle.

"Don't call him that," Ste said through gritted teeth. Brendan stood close behind and put what he hoped was a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Pauline sniggered at him, as if his comment was daft. "He brought you up, Ste!"

"Dragged me up, more like," he muttered bitterly.

"He still loved you."

"Oh really? Do you actually believe that, or is it just something you tell yourself while you drink yourself into an early grave?"

His mother sneered then, all niceties dissolving instantly as she threw down her empty bottle. "Still a posh gay boy then, are we? The old Ste would've been shouting the odds by now."

Brendan tensed at her slurred words, but had to resist the urge to throw the woman out himself. He'd have to wait until Steven said that was what he wanted. Besides, he had never seen him interact with his mother before, and he was impressed with how well the younger man was keeping a lid on his temper. It was a far cry from what had happened here just a few hours before.

"Yeah well, maybe you're not worth it," Ste replied coolly.

"I'm your mother – don't be thinking you can get away with speaking to me like that!"

With that, Pauline went to lash out, and Brendan was ready to guard his man with his life.

But it appeared that Steven didn't need any such protection. Brendan watched as he caught the woman's arm before she could strike, holding it in the air with a vice-like grip.

It didn't deter her from her main aim. "I can't afford to pay for our Terry's funeral. So it's down to you to get us the money. You or that fella of yours," she added snidely.

Ste snorted, having predicted this very scenario in his head. "No chance."

"You always were a selfish little shit!"

Brendan could stand back no longer. "That's enough. Get out," he ordered, moving from behind Steven and opening the door in one swift movement.

"It's okay," Ste whispered softly, walking over and squeezing his shoulder appreciatively before turning back to Pauline. "You know, I'm half expecting this to be some sort of wind up just to get more money; but I actually hope for your sake he really is dead. Terry can rot in hell for all I care." And despite his words on the subject earlier on, he realised that he truly meant what he was saying.

This was his chance for closure.

"You talk about love?" he told her as she smirked. "He never loved me. You never loved me – never even wanted me, did you? Well I finally know what it's like to feel wanted, and I'm not gonna let you destroy it. So get out, and don't ever come back."

Brendan didn't think he'd ever been prouder of Steven than he was in that moment.

"You think you're special, Steven?" Pauline spat as she inched closer to the door. "Fine. I don't know why I bother with you. You're a waste of space!"

Within seconds, she had staggered out of the flat and into the night. Brendan slammed the door shut with a bang and turned his attention back to the man beside him, who had suddenly gone limp. He had a sense that if he didn't pull him into his arms now, Steven was more than likely to fall into them. So he did exactly that.

"Brendan..."

"It's alright," he murmured, his voice muffled against the man's hair. "It's over."

Even as he said the words, he knew it wasn't that simple. The confrontation had taken a lot out of Steven; had broken something in him even as he was speaking with such strength and determination.

But that was okay. Because Brendan was there to help put him back together again.