Brendan Brady's POV

It wasn't until 2.23 am until I could finally kicked out the few last drunken punters. Jesus the kids these days really didn't know how to handle their drinks! Not that this bothers me, it's good for business. It reminds me of the many time Stephen had had a drink too much and had ended up in my arms, in my bed. Not that him being drunk made much of a difference in that department...

I turned around, knowing Stephen would be the only one left in the bar, it always was. He's such a great bloke, really hardworking... He had already started clearing up the mess that night had brought. I watched him for a minute, he seemed oblivious to my regard, or maybe he was just ignoring me. Don't get me wrong, contemplating the way he worked has it's appeal but tonight I wanted more, not just occasional glance at each other or even light kisses now and again, when no one was around, like it had to be during the day. No, none of that childish play. This was gonna be the real thing.

"Stop that and get us a drink." Stephen looked up at me incredulously so I added a "please" to soften the atmosphere.

"What do ya want?"

"What ever you're having." I said deciding to be open in my options but he knew I wouldn't drink the cheap beer we had in this place so got me a whiskey. It irritated me that he knew me so well.

He handed me my drink and sat down on the couch. I examine him for a second before lowering meself down next to him, making sure we were properly facing each other "What's this for then?" He inquired.

"A drink between friends, that's all." but he still looked troubled. "Unless you want something more..." I suggest leaning closer into him

"Do I even have a say or have you already made your mind up?"

"That's hardly fair Stephen. I always give you a choice." I complained, leaning back into the sofa as if to prove my point.

"That's not true! Just last Tuesday you were telling me that it was you that 'said when things were dead'."

He had me pinned there, I thought, remembering the short conversation we had last Tuesday.

"Is this dead?" He had said loudly, awakening me from me thoughts. It was a while until I understood what he was talking about. When I finally did, I had dismissed his words strait away, I hadn't wanted to get into that conversation, not there and not right then, so I had decided to change the subject.

"So the ex and the missus all lived under the same roof? Ye better hope ye don't end up in the wrong bed."

He had smiled but had soon corrected his actions and had cockily said, "My days of ending up in the wrong bed are well over!" The cheek of him! "Never forget Stephen," I had started, swiveling the drink I had around in it's cup, "I decide when things are dead," I had raised the glass to my lips, "Not you." I swallowed the last of the whiskey and had held up the cup for him to take, "It's dead. Take it." He hesitated before seizing the glass and walking off, leaving me to me thoughts.

Stephen Hay's POV

It's not that I didn't want it, because I did, I wanted it a lot but I was sick and tired of him always being the boss. I was fed up with him walking all over me, like I was nothing. I don't have much self respect for myself but I'm not a piece of meat.

I place my glass on the coffee table and stand up to leave but he grips my arm.

"Don't!"

"Why? You gonna hit me or else?"

"I'm not like that anymore." His eyes looked sad as he remembered what he had done to me, this makes me pause, I ain't trying to hurt his felling, I'm just trying to spear mine.

"What do ye want from me Stephen, a date or something? 'cause ye know how that ended last time. I'm not gonna be okay with things like that, ever."

"Why? If I am I don't see why you shouldn't be!"

"Because I'm not not like ye!" he almost growled, making me jump, "I'm not gay Stephen!"

I'd sort of expected this, it's how these conversations always end, him denying who he really is. I tried with a different approach,"Do ya actually like Mitzeee then?"

"No, I've already told ye; It's a cover up, cause she caught us... saying goodbye."

"Brendan, why is it so bad for people to find out?" He didn't answer at first, "Bren?"

"Because it's sick!" He hissed, gripping the collar of my hoddie. I shouldn't have been so surprised, I mean, this is what he was like! I guess I just thought, seems as the beatings had stopped that maybe his feelings towards me might have changed. But neither had obviously.

I shook off his hands and bolted for the door, felling tears come up to my eyes.

"No Stephen. Sorry, I wasn't going to actually smack you..." He pleaded after me but I kept on running.

Brendan Brady's POV

Shit. I swore under my breath as I ran my hand through my hair. He was nowhere to be found. He could only be at his at this time in the night, right? What clubs would be open at 2am on a Wednesday? Yeah, he must have gone home.

[...]

My hand came thundering down on the estate house door, not stopping for anything.

"Stephen, I didn't mean it like that!" I shouted, not caring who saw or heard me, "Stephen please. Open up!"

Rae Wilson's POV

"Please, Rae!" He begged me, tears rolling down his cheek.

"What's the matter? Ste what's he done?" I asked warily glancing at the door that looked as if it was about to crash down under the pressure.

"Tell him I'm not here, please!" He said physically shaking with fear.

"Okay, okay, wait here then." I say anxiously, lowering his form, that was clinging to me, down to the fall so that he ended up curled into a protective ball on the living room floor.

I went to the door and tearing my eyes for Ste's defenseless body opened it to find Brendan. He two looked close to tears.

"Brendan?" I said, trying to sound surprised, "What are you doing here? What time is it?"

"Is Stephen in?"

"No, not yet, I thought he was with you. He phoned me saying he was out with some mates, I assumed he'd be with you."

"No." Brendan said looking around, as if Ste might pop out from a push or something.

"Why are you here? Is something wrong?" He examined me face then said told me to tell Ste 'it was a misunderstanding'. Yeah right, that's why he was now crumbled on the floor crying his eyes out.

He took one last look, over my shoulder and into the flat before turning his back to me and striding into the dead of night. I slammed the door and went back to Ste's side.

"What happened?" I implored, but my efforts were in vain as he refuse to let out any English word but 'Brendan'. I sat there half the night, caressing his back, until he finally gave into sleep.

Brendan Brady's POV

Well admittedly this night didn't go according to plan.

What had I done? Was all I could think as I made my way through the deserted streets of Hollyoaks. I had tried to call him a dozen times but it always went to the answering phone. Why wouldn't the little fecker answer me bloody calls? I hadn't even hit him! Oh, who am I kidding, it was enough the scare him off...

After a little look around the places he might have gone I headed back to club, remembering that I hadn't locked up properly which was really very stupid because somebody had paid it a short visit and had trashed everything.

There were broken glasses all over the floor and surfaces. The couch I had been seated in just 20 mins ago was thrashed to pieces, there was puddles of drink all over the floor and the door to the office was wide open, allowing me to catch a glimpse of the papers that lay all over the room.

"FUCK!" I howled, smashing my fair share of glasses in the processes of letting out my anger.

He'd gone one step to far this time!