HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO JADE, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO JADE, THIS FICCC IS FOR JADEEEE, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO JADE. :) Writing this because it's Jade's (JadeClifford_LJ on twitter) 18th birthday, or it was on Sunday but I took ages, didn't I…. =) it's my take on the kitchen chemistry so Brendan didn't ask Ste, Theresa did.
Also dedicated to Chan for partially coming up with this scenario….
Ste was alone in the Deli when the phone rang. It was Doug's day off when the phone rang. Which probably explained why Ste had agreed when Theresa had told him it was Joel's birthday and that she needed the best ingredients the Deli had to offer and his help cooking the meal.
That's why he found himself knocking on the door of the Brady's flat, price slice and deli bags slung on his arms as he carried a small box of ingredients, waiting for Theresa to answer the door pouting at him with those glossy lips. Instead, he was greeted by the tall, well-built figure of Brendan Brady, his ex. Ste sighed. He really didn't need Brendan around when he was trying to cook, he knew what Brendan was like with all his teasing and low comments and to be fair, he really wasn't in the mood…
"Hello…" drawled Brendan slowly as he leaned on the doorway, his eyes scanning Ste's body. He shifted uncomfortably under Brendan's intense gaze and sighed softly again.
"You gotta be kiddin'…" He struggled with the bags a bit and gave Brendan a bored gaze. "Right, can ya tell Theresa I'm here?"
Brendan took the box out of his hands and a few carrier bags, a small smile creeping onto his face. "Barbie…is distracting Scottish Foxy while I, or rather we…cook."
Ste blinked and watched the Irishman's form retreat into the flat, leaving the door of the flat wide open for him to enter. He's not serious, right? Brendan didn't actually expect him to cook with him? He only agreed because, well the Deli always offers outside catering, but also because helping Theresa didn't seem that bad. If he'd known...
"you're not serious, are ya?" He sighed in defeat as he reluctantly walked in after Brendan, closing the door.
"I'm deadly serious…" Brendan replied, his back to Ste as he placed the bags on the kitchen counter along with the box. "I can hardly cook all this stuff on my own now, can I?" He began unpacking the bags and held something up. "Mascarpone…? Is that a cheese…?"
Ste finally came over to where Brendan was, feeling the frustration building inside of him. How was he supposed to cook with him if Brendan didn't even know what mascarpone was?! He could really, really do without Brendan fiddling and fussing like he always did… So with that, he snatched the mascarpone out of Brendan's hands, putting the remainders of the bags down.
"I can't cook with you…" He gave Brendan a defeated look. "You're hopeless…and yes, Mascarpone is a cheese."
He rolled his eyes and leaned on the counter, his Irish voice taking on a somewhat offended tone which almost made Ste smile. Almost. "I'm not hopeless! I can fry stuff…"
Ste ran his hands over his face and busied himself unpacking the price slice bags. He laughed a bit in exasperation. Brendan was getting more hopeless by the minute and he swore to God he couldn't work under such conditions. "Brendan, we're making a proper little classy meal, frying int needed…" He stacked the ingredients together and worked at unpacking the little bags from the Deli. "They didn't have specialised stuff at Price Slice so I had to bring it from the Deli…"
Brendan didn't really reply to his second statement, but instead, he snatched one of the small paper deli bags and peered inside it. For what purpose, Ste had no idea. To be annoying? For fun? Boredom? To look for food? Ste put it down to Brendan's mere strangeness and all the little half annoying mannerism's he'd got used to during the two years he'd known the older man.
"Joel's Scottish…" Brendan drawled, inspecting the interiors of one of the bags. "…frying something would be more appropriate than a poncy meal."
Ste sighed. Right. Brendan didn't get the purpose of the meal…But he didn't expect Brendan to understand anything that required social norms and class. Although, his borderline racist comment towards Joel was almost funny. Almost. Stereotyping, smug bastard…
"That's a bit stereotypical, int it? It's like saying you're ginger and wear a little green suit…" He half smiled as he snatched the bag back, his mind flooded momentarily with strange images of Brendan with a head of bright ginger hair. With a moustache? Not a good look.
"and stop messing with stuff. If ya wanna help…" Ste grabbed a cloth and extended it to Brendan, grinning innocently. "Clean the worktops."
"I have a green suit… it's Chanel. Never wear it…" Brendan replied simply before taking the cloth. "Me? Clean? Can't I just eat something?"
Brendan and his designer labels never ceased to amuse Ste. He'd even had a little peak in Brendan's wardrobe one time when he and Brendan were still together and practically every single one of his suits bore a designer name on the back of the collar… Brendan didn't have a lot of camp qualities, but his fashion sense was one of them, and that was one of the things Ste lov- liked -about the Irishman.
"No, you can't eat…and you can't cook for shit. So just clean, Brendan." Ste felt the immense pressure that he always felt while cooking something important building up on him and he sighed a bit as Brendan almost pouted before obliging and cleaning the counters. Eventually, Ste sought comfort in the excitement of planning his meal and began his probably pointless rant to Brendan.
"Right, I was thinking… if I do a tomato and basil soup for starters, dead simple, and an Italian crust bread to go with it, then I can make a steak of veal with sautéed potatoes, some veg, maybe creamed potatoes – that's posh for mash – and then I could make a linguine pasta with cheese in case someone doesn't like veal and I was thinking a simple dessert but I brought a tonne of ingredients so we can decide that later… Oh, and I also brought some proper good red wine for the jus to go with the steak so please don't drink it." Ste drew breath for the first time. "Sound good?"
Ste felt little speckles of water on his face as Brendan flicked water at him and he sighed. Brendan probably didn't listen to a word he just said… "Sounds great."
Ste glared a bit at Brendan and wiped his face, clearing the wetness from it. "Brendan, I don't have time to muck about! I had to close the deli for this…" Part of him wanted to start a bit of a water fight but that would just be childish and he didn't have time, so he busied himself in the cupboards and collecting utensils.
"Spoilsport…" Brendan replied bluntly. Ste rolled his eyes and dropped a bag of potatoes on the counter in front of Brendan, handing him a potato peeler.
"You can peel these." Ste instructed casually. "Do you know how to peel a potato?"
Brendan raised his eyebrows and smirked a little, taking the potato peeler from him. "Yes. I'm Irish, remember…?"
Ste finally allowed himself to laugh. He should have known he had no chance eliciting a normal response from Brendan so he just went with it, grinning a little. "Right… Get to peeling, Irish boy!" He eventually found a bowl suitable of substituting a mixing bowl and began sorting ingredients out for the soup, boiling water in order to peel the tomatoes of their skin etc as Brendan lazily peeled the potatoes, the apparent urgency and haste of Ste's actions obviously lost on Brendan.
Ste started mixing ingredients after peeling the tomatoes until he was close to a product similar to soup. He plucked a conversation from the middle of nowhere, partly out of politeness, partly because he didn't want to just focus on cooking, partly because he was afraid of awkward silences with Brendan and partly because he was genuinely curious. "How come ya offered to help with the cooking? You can't cook…I remember with N…" Ste stopped himself before memories of his relationship with Noah came back to him, memories of when he was still infatuated by Brendan…
Brendan stopped for a moment and then carried on peeling. "Well with Barbie and Foxy doing whatever it is they enjoy doing… There was no one else…"
Ste glanced at him and nodded a bit. Brendan had a point, it's not like he was stupid enough to volunteer willingly, considering he lacked every basic cooking skill. Ste looked down at the mixing bowl and smiled a bit. All he needed was to blend it and the soup was done and ready to be simmered. "I still reckon you're gonna get in me way…You got an electric whisk?"
"No."
"How am I supposed to…?!" Ste felt hopeless.
"Hand stir it?"
"Fuck off… a blender?"
"Yes. We have a blender." Brendan grinned a bit and Ste exhaled. Brendan wasn't even fucking funny.
"Where is it?" Ste asked impatiently as he watched Brendan root around in the cupboard.
"I don't know why you don't just hand stir it…as I remember…" Brendan placed the blender on the counter and his gaze fell upon Ste's lightly sweat slick form. "…you're good with your hands."
Ste felt himself flush a deep shade of scarlet as thoughts of sliding his hands across the thick hairs of Brendan's chest, moving them down to grip his dick, filled his head. He almost felt dizzy for a moment and swallowed thickly, blinking to regain his compose. He laughed meekly and plugged the blender in. Brendan went back to peeling potatoes, amusement obvious on his face. Ste didn't notice him reach over and take the small black circle lid that prevents spillage away…
Ste slowly poured his mixture into the blender, only using about half as he had made an excess anyway. It's always good to be sure, he reminded himself. He closed the lid and casually switched the blender on. The next thing he knew, he saw a flash of red and then he was stood and the blender was off. He was practically dripping with soup. He could barely speak. "oh my g…"
Brendan grinned and laughed mischievously, holding up a little black disc that would have prevented this. "Oh…was this important?"
Ste felt himself almost shaking with anger, he didn't even know why. Surely, it wasn't just the blender fiasco, in fact, Ste knew exactly where his frustration came from. He had let Brendan get to him only moments earlier, let Brendan make his body surge with that sexual electricity again and he'd promised himself he wouldn't fall for it again. But the blender was a good enough reason to yell.
"You…You took it?! Brendan! I just did all this prep, all this work and you just came here and and…and now I'm covered in soup and you're just…just…" Ste found himself tearing up. It wasn't the blender stuff at all. He still wanted Brendan and he hated it. He didn't know what to do. Revenge seemed fitting. So with that, he threw some soup mixture at Brendan, who's humour instantly faded to rage.
"This is an expensive shirt!"
"and THIS…" Ste gestured to all the food. "Was an important meal! For Theresa and Joel and ME! And you just went and made it…" Ste had to trail off. A) to stop himself from revealing anything stupid and B) to stop himself laughing.
Ste blinked and before he knew it, Brendan was unbuttoning his shirt, revealing another inch of his chest with each button. Ste went to carry on ranting but found himself cut short. His gaze was fixated on Brendan's chest, surveying the curve and ripple of each taut muscle, the soft but thick hairs that covered them and his pink nipples between the hairs. Ste subconsciously wet his lips. It was the sight of a man's chest, who trained and worked to gain tight, ripped muscles like that, nothing like Doug's which was without fat or shape…
Ste's body was tense; he could feel it, because he was fighting the low urge to fuck – or rather, be fucked – which appeared to be growing each second. Ste finally mustered the strength to meet Brendan's gaze as he nervously wrung his hands. "I should cook."
And both men awkwardly broke gaze to return to cooking. Ste was almost glad that the blender had malfunctioned, because it meant Ste could busy himself and avoid looking in Brendan's direction. That was until Brendan spoke.
"Done."
Ste looked over at the Irishman. True to his word, each and every potato was peeled and in a bowl in front of Brendan on the counter. He stretched and cracked his fingers and for a moment, Ste was mesmerised by the slide and stretch of Brendan's defined muscles and bones. And then he snapped out of it and took the potatoes.
"Thanks."
Ste began blending and decided it was best to concentrate on this, so his gaze didn't foolishly fall back to Brendan.
"What else can I do to help?" Brendan asked casually. Ste did instruct him to wash the bowl, not taking his eyes off the blender, but Brendan protested. "Can't I do something fun? I can help with the bread?"
Ste felt like giving up. "Fine. You can do the kneading once I made the mix. All you have to do is beat the dough shitless but be kinda tender too…" Ste tried to ignore any double meanings to his own words. He mixed all basic dry ingredients along with Italian herbs in a bowl before glancing at Brendan. "You can do this…. If you wanna get your hands dirty." He added butter to the mix. "C'mere."
Brendan obliged and stood closer to Ste, who swallowed and subtly moved a little bit away. "Just put your hands in the mixture….and rub the butter into the flour, okay? But be gentle and tender…"
Again, Brendan obliged and Ste watched the almost elegant movements of Brendan's masculine hands – an oxymoron in itself – as he slowly practically massaged the mixture in the bowl. But he wasn't using enough flour per bit of butter and Ste sighed softly. "No… wait. Like this."
Ste wasn't sure of what he was doing. Before he could register his own actions, his hands were in the bowl too, rubbing the mixture, gliding his hands through the flour. He had to move closer to the older man and caught a smell of his aftershave, a smell he had found on himself after a passionate quicky many-a-time in the past. Just as he caught the smell, his hands interlocked with Brendan's in the bowl and their fingers intertwined a bit. Ste didn't know if he had done it by accident or if it was his desire to touch Brendan. He hoped it was the former, but feared it was the latter. He looked at Brendan, his breathing heavy and swallowed. He was met by Brendan's dark, hooded eyes.
"…That's my hand…" Brendan's voice was low. Ste didn't reply, nor did he move his hands and subconsciously he found his gaze fixating on Brendan's lips for a moment, before he looked back at his eyes. Brendan lifted his hand and smudged a bit of flour on Ste's cheek as he leaned in close, so close that Ste could feel Brendan's warm breath on his lips. He inhaled deeply and tried to supress a small moan, his breathing speeding up as his eyes closed. He told himself to protect but all he could manage was a low, sultry whisper of the older man's name. Brendan's lips flittered over his with the most ghostly of touches and Ste opened his eyes, mustering some weak strength.
"…But…"
And Brendan pulled back a bit. "But?" Ste almost whimpered at the loss.
"I c…" He couldn't speak. He parted his lips and darted his tongue out to wet them.
"…If this isn't what you want…" Brendan began.
Ste didn't let him finish his sentence. "It is."
Fuck Doug, fuck morals, fuck protesting. This is what Steven Hay knew he wanted. His lips found Brendan's and his arms slid around Brendan's neck, whilst he felt Brendan's hands hold his hips. Their kiss was deep and passionate and without air within seconds and Brendan was pushing his tongue into Ste's mouth, both of them moaning simultaneously as they grinded together, stumbling to the bedroom.
It was a quick, deep, hard, passionate round of sex. Ste hadn't felt anything like it for such a long time; he always topped with Doug and the aching need to feel Brendan's dick tease and push against his prostate had been almost unbearable. His orgasm was hard, his body shaking. It was well needed. Brendan came after he did, panting and groaning 'Steven's' name as they both came down from the high together, a feeling both men had sorely missed.
-OXO-
Ste sighed happily as he played with the hairs on Brendan's chest, looking up at him. Brendan glanced down at Ste and smiled a bit.
"What?"
"Nothing… I just missed ya…"
Their lips found each other's again and they moaned softly, gripping at one another's hair until a voice cut through the flat.
Theresa's.
"What the hell has happened?!"
Ste pulled away and giggled. "…fuck…"
-OXO-
For Jade.