Turning Tables

by Love Out Of Lust

Ste decides to scam Brendan out of his money and retain ownership of the deli. But can he forget about their past together?

He wouldn't call it a plan. That made it sound clinical somehow, cold. He preferred thinking of it as a way of getting his life back. When he thought about being free of Brendan, away from his control, no longer made to feel small and ashamed, his heart almost leapt at the possibilities, the thought of all the things he could do.

I no longer have to see his face everyday, reminding me of what could of been, of all the things I've lost.

He knew Brendan didn't love him properly, and inside Ste felt pathetic, thinking back on all the weeks, months and years he'd spent clinging onto what they had, desperate to hold onto what he perceived as something he needed. With Brendan he had felt less alone, as if he had finally found someone who understood him, who made his skin hum in excitement, who made his body buzz all over with desire. Ste had had feelings for a man before. Two of them locked in young offenders together, living side by side, sharing everything from meals to conversations to glances exchanged under Ste's long lashed, afraid eyes. He hadn't quite known what was happening, but he had been aware that it didn't feel completely wrong. When he had lied awake at night, he'd wondered what would happen if he had been able to get out of bed, walk down the corridor and into Callum's bedroom. He was shocked by the intensity of these thoughts. He'd enjoyed sex with Amy, he knew he had. He hadn't been able to get enough of her - the way she laughed, the way she looked at him like he was special, important. The feel of her milky white breasts underneath his fingertips. There was nothing delicate about the way that he felt about Callum. When he thought of kissing him, the lips that he imagined meeting his own were rough and hungry, not soft and tentative.

He'd been able to control it, though. They were two boys, and Ste had no real intention of exploring exactly what this thing might have meant.

Until Brendan.

With him, he had felt like all his senses had exploded. Suddenly the idea of walking away from it had become impossible. With Callum he'd been able to bury it, pretend that it hadn't existed. He was locked up with him twenty four hours a day. They'd been best friends. Of course they were bound to be close. It didn't mean anything. It couldn't.

With Brendan, he had no intention of denying the way he felt. It felt good. He couldn't think of a reason why he'd want to ignore it. The last thing he wanted to do was pretend that he didn't want him.

I want to kiss him. I want to fuck him. I want to be taken by him. I want to suck his cock, and I want him to suck mine. I want him inside me, as deep as humanly possible. It makes me happy.

Ste would blush when he had these thoughts, especially when he caught Brendan looking at him in Chez Chez, eyes trailing from his groin area to his face. It was as if he could read his mind.

Ste still had his Chez Chez t-shirt, black and tightly fitted, stuffed at the back of his drawer. He had been sure that Brendan would demand for it back when he fired him, as some sort of petty last attempt to spite him. But he never had, and Ste had held it over the rubbish bin a dozen times, before finding himself unable to throw it there. He wasn't sure why. He could hardly wear it out and about. He'd only attract glances from people, thinking that he was was some desperate loser for wearing the uniform of a place that had very publicly binned him off. And he couldn't sleep in it, because it reminded him of...he just couldn't do anything with it, and yet knowing it was in that drawer, unseen but present, somehow comforted him.

The day after Doug kissed him in the deli, their bodies pushed against the wall, Ste anchoring his mouth to his, he'd reached into the back of the drawer for the first time in months. He'd felt the familiar black cotton, and his eyes fell over the logo that embossed its chest. He remembered how he'd caught Brendan staring at him in it one day.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Come on, tell me." Brendan was so closed off to him sometimes, like he was constantly keeping himself out of reach. He wanted to know what he was thinking, see inside that head of his.

He expected Brendan to brush him off, to tell him to get on with his work and stop asking pointless questions. But instead he stepped closer to him, so close that it caused Ste to stumble and drop the glass that he was holding. It dropped onto the table, and spun around on it, the impact of it echoing round the room. Ste was glad of the noise. Everything else was silent, and he felt suddenly tense, alive with the possibilities. He knew that Brendan liked to make the first move, and he had to be patient. He hardly even dared to breathe, in case he ruined the moment. Having Brendan that close to him, smelling his aftershave and his warm breath on his cheek was unlike anything else.

Brendan reached into his pocket and pulled out a stick of gum, which he began chewing on lazily, rolling it around in his mouth, exposing his pink, fleshy tongue to Ste. The tongue which he'd sucked on and rubbed his own against on numerous occasions.

"You look hot." Brendan whispered it into Ste's ear, then pulled back to look at the boy's reaction. It had the desired effect. Just those three little words alone made Ste light up, a smile stretching across his face. Brendan rarely said this sort of thing in public, and behind closed doors, the only way Ste could tell what he felt about him was through low groans, urgent stroking and Brendan hurriedly pushing into him, worshipping every inch of his body.

"Yeah?"

"Mmm." Brendan stared around the bar. Cheryl hadn't yet come in, and Rhys and Jacqui were true to form, late as always.

Ste brushed away the small voice inside him that told him that Brendan was ashamed of him, that he was checking if the coast was clear.

He's still here, isn't he? With me. Maybe that's enough.

Brendan reached out a hand and cupped Ste's cheek with it. Ste loved it when he did that. He felt himself melt into the touch, leaning towards him for more, as much as he could get.

Deciding to be bold, Ste moved forwards and claimed Brendan's lips with his own. He felt Brendan pull away, and Ste inwardly cursed himself for not waiting for him to kiss him first. But then after a moments hesitation, Brendan pulled Ste to him with a hand on the back of his head, and pushed him towards the office, slamming the door shut behind them with his foot.

Ste knew they didn't have long, not with Cheryl due to arrive soon. That suited him just fine. He didn't feel like taking it slow that day, and his hands were just as urgent as Brendan's. They grappled for his shirt, hastily undoing his buttons, unbuckling his belt, unzipping his trousers. Brendan in turn wrestled with his t-shirt, his hands both rushed and strangely gentle, smoothing over Ste's chest when he had finally got it off. Ste no longer felt self conscious standing naked in front of Brendan anymore. By the way Brendan's body reacted, he was confident that he liked what he saw.

Brendan lifted Ste up, wrapping the boy's legs around his waist. Ste held onto Brendan's back, his hands in Brendan's hair, his lips on his neck, sucking the skin there. He didn't think how Brendan would explain away the marks there the next day. Ste had already had his own run ins with Amy over the scratch marks on his back and his bee stung, plumped lips, swollen from Brendan's mouth.

The force of the way that Brendan pushed him against the wall caused Ste to take a sharp intake of breath, and nearly made him fall from Brendan's grasp. It shocked him, that someone could want him that much, that someone like Brendan could lose control like that.

Brendan panted against Ste's chest, stilling his motions.

"You okay?" he asked, genuinely sounding concerned.

Ste nodded, repositioning himself so that their groins were once more brushing up against each other. He wet his lips, staring at Brendan's own, at how full and red they looked.

"I mean it, Steven. You're not hurt, are you?"

Ste didn't understand what was with him that day. First giving him a rare compliment, then asking him if he was okay. It wasn't like that was the first time that Brendan had been rough with him. What was different about this?

"I'm fine. Come here."

Brendan's expression softened, and he secured Ste's legs more firmly around his waist, and invaded Ste's mouth with warm, wet kisses, the feel of them setting Ste on fire.

As Brendan pushed deeper and deeper inside of him, his thrusts becoming frenzied and uncontrolled, Ste tried to concentrate on something, anything, that would stop him from coming before Brendan. He was so in tune to Brendan's body now that he knew he was not yet ready. Looking around the office, he settled his eyes on his Chez Chez t-shirt. Even that now had a certain sentiment attached to it, which consisted of Brendan's glazed eyes, his soft, suggestive remarks and the way he took it off like he couldn't wait to get to what was underneath. But right now it provided relief from the way that Brendan was rubbing him again and again, in the place that made him go wild with need. Focusing on the black material, the way it was now slightly creased from Brendan bunching it up in his hands when he had clung to it before, it allowed him to wait until the moment that he saw Brendan's legs begin to buckle, his stroking of Ste's cock becoming uncoordinated.

As they untangled themselves from each other and smoothed their clothes down, covering their sweaty, flushed flesh, Ste wanted a way to keep Brendan in the room, to stop the moment from being shattered. Of returning to normal life out there, which could never be as good as life in here.

"Bren?" The nickname came easily to his lips, and he was pleased when Brendan made no attempt to correct him.

"Yeah?" Brendan zipped up his trousers, and Ste wondered what he would do if he went over to him right now, and felt the bulge that he knew was there, making the fabric tent with his ministrations.

"Do you really like the t-shirt?"

He was pushing it, he knew. He was grinning, and Brendan probably thought he was a cocky bastard. He really should just let him leave, and go back to work himself. He knew there was only so much Brendan could take. Somehow the more affection that Ste gave him, and the more he suggested that they were in a relationship, however unconventional and undefinable it was sometimes, the more Brendan retreated. Ste often wondered how someone who was so confident and powerful, someone who people both feared and respected, could sometimes seem so terrified.

But Brendan surprised him, for the third time that day. Maybe he'd finally decided to be brave.

"Yeah. It's my favourite."

It had been spoken quietly, gruffly, with Brendan's gaze unable to meet his eyes for long before he'd had to look away. That was a first. Brendan always made sure that he was the one who had the last say, the one who made Ste look away with the intensity of his glance.

As Brendan shut the door behind him, Ste wondered if he'd imagined the ghost of a smile that had flittered across Brendan's face. He touched the hem of his t-shirt, wanting to hold onto the memory of what they'd done in here. The things that Brendan had said. He never wanted to forget.

xxxx

Ste shoved the bag into a corner of the kitchen, wanting it as far out of sight as possible. In there were a pair of black trousers, some tattered old shoes, and the black t-shirt that he'd kept for two years, and hadn't washed since he'd last worn it in January. His old Chez Chez uniform. He hadn't wanted to forget the smell of him, and it felt like the imprint of him was all over it.

I am a fucking idiot.

When Brendan had first come into the deli that day, his immediate thought had been to run, to escape, to get the hell out of there. He didn't care where. He just knew that he couldn't be around him, not after he had learnt that the deli wasn't really his at all. It was Brendan's, like everything else in his life. It belonged to the same man who thought that he could just book a hotel room, feed him a meal that he didn't even want, and take him back there and have sex with him like he was some seedy, easy, meaningless shag. He couldn't go back to that place, that place that could destroy his relationship with Doug, the only thing that had distracted him from Brendan all year. When he was with Doug, the sensation that had been pressing down on his chest ever since Eileen had burst into their lives, fracturing everything, lessened. The tightness all but evaporated, and for the first time in a long while, he didn't feel as if a small part of him was constantly waiting for Brendan to come back to him.

He'd only listened to Brendan as an attempt to get it over and done with. He waited for his usual lies and manipulation.

"You were right. The whole thing was planned from start to finish. Only this isn't how I...this isn't how I wanted it to turn out."

Ste could barely stop himself from rolling his eyes.

"I think it's a bit too late."

Brendan laughed sadly, looking down. Acting as though he was steeling himself for his next sentence, gathering the courage.

"Last night when I was in the hotel room, alone, all night thinking, all these...all these games, all these lies, I'm done with it. I'm exhausted, you know?"

"Am I supposed to be believing all this?"

He'd heard it all before, in a million different ways, using a million different words. It all amounted to the same.

But Brendan wouldn't stop.

"The loan for the deli...that was all for you, all to get you back into my life."

"You wanted me to be your puppet, Brendan!"

Pulling the strings as always.

"Yeah. The control, the power. But that's the old me. Look, I'm not asking for an answer now. I'm not. I just want you to know that I'm starting over. A new me, and...I'd really...I'd really like you to be with me, Steven. Okay."

He left the deli, and Ste couldn't move. He stared after the space that Brendan had occupied, suddenly not knowing what to do with his hands, his feet, his eyes.

I'd really like you to be with me.

What did that mean, exactly? As in...boyfriends? A couple? By his side, no matter what? Hadn't Brendan realised that that's all Ste had ever wanted to do? Be there for him. He knew he had failed him before. The fire at Il Gnosh. Danny's murder. Rae and the other girls. But Brendan had given him no reason to stay, to fight for him. Every time there had been a punch before, a punch that sent Ste further away. Brendan wasn't the only one who was exhausted.

Ste touched a finger to his lips, stroking the skin there. It felt raw and bruised. Somehow even when Brendan hadn't kissed him, it felt like he had.

He hasn't told me anything different. Nothing's changed. He's not new at all. He's going to chew me up and spit me out, like he always does. I am nothing to him.

Anger made him regain his movement, his strength. It propelled him forwards, allowing him to lock the door of Carter and Hay. He didn't care that they were far away from closing hours. He didn't care about money at that moment. He had to shut Brendan out, because he could feel him all around the room, his presence engulfing and all consuming. What scared him the most was that a part of him wanted to call him back.

"Yes, okay. We can be together."

It wasn't as simple as that. It never could be. Not just because of Doug. Ste knew that he was the least of their problems. Doug being his business partner and wanting to be with him paled in comparison to everything that he and Brendan had to face. The things that had been left unsaid spread out like a vast ocean between them. The punch outside his flat in January after Declan had left. Kissing another man in front of him. Making him unemployed. Driving straight past him in his car, when they should have been going to Disneyland together. Telling Eileen that they didn't belong to each other, that he wasn't with anyone.

All of this burned in Ste's chest like a scar.

There was only one reason for getting back with Brendan, compared to the thousands of reasons he shouldn't.

I still love him.

Ste held onto the countertop to support himself. He never allowed himself to voice that out loud anymore, and even thinking it in his head was stupid, toxic. The only way he could get through each day was by pretending that those feelings never existed. His chest felt hollow, but he'd learned to accept the sensation. Get used to it, even.

He'd take the hollowness any day over loving Brendan again. He knew which one was less painful.

Ste slowly moved towards the kitchens, not halting till he reached the back. From there he could see the small display monitor that showed the main shopfront. It wasn't exactly state of the art, but the screen was clear enough. It had been Doug's idea.

"Who's going to want to steal paninis?"

"You'd be surprised, Ste. I just think it's worth getting one. You never know what people will do."

Reaching out his hands, Ste hesitated for a second before finally pressing stop on the tape. He rewound it quickly, no more than two minutes or so, before playing it again.

He watched as he appeared on screen, Brendan's back to the camera. It was situated near the door, at the top of the wall. He heard their faint voices talking, and was glad that the quality wasn't any better. He didn't want to hear what Brendan said again. He didn't think he could listen to the sincerity in his voice and still keep his promise to stay away from him.

As his eyes concentrated on the screen in front of him, he wasn't sure exactly why he was doing this. He knew he wouldn't find the answers there, in some tape footage, but he couldn't help but look for them anyway. He wished he could see Brendan's face, to be able to see if he had dreamed of the truth written all over it, the sadness in his eyes, as if he had meant every word. As if being away from him was as painful for him as it was for Ste.

Instead he looked at his own face, the way it transformed from defiant and guarded to open and disarmed. He never was any good at a poker face.

Ste was about to turn the tape off when he stopped in his tracks. Staring at the screen intently, he watched as Brendan walked away from him, a smirk permeating his features.

It twisted his face, so that the man who had been there moments before had morphed into someone else entirely. Someone that always won, that had never doubted that he would.

Ste felt waves of nausea lapping at his throat.

I really am his puppet.

Throwing open the door of the deli, Ste locked the door hurriedly and started running down the street. He narrowly dodged crowds of people, not really caring if he crashed into anyone. He felt tears prickle his eyes, and brushed them away before they had time to form. He had promised himself that he would never cry a single tear over Brendan Brady again, and he planned to keep that promise.

He got back to the flat sooner than he expected. He hadn't even realised how fast he'd been running, as if there was a mania to his movements, something driving him forward that he had no control over.

Everyone was out, Leah and Lucas's shoes empty from the hall, Amy leaving him a note to say that she'd see him later at the Savage's party. Carter and Hay had their own stall, but Ste couldn't even think about that right now. His head was full of Brendan, and he hated that it was, after all this time.

He immediately went into his bedroom, knowing exactly what he was looking for. Opening the drawer, he hunted to the back and pulled out the fabric, no longer worried about treating it with care. He thought about ripping it into two right then and there, but decided instead that he'd give it away. Back to its owner. He knew it was childish, but then he pictured the smirk in his mind, how Brendan's words had meant nothing, had been used against him. He really didn't care about being mature then.

Gathering up his old Chez Chez trousers and shoes that he used to wear, he collected them in a heap and imagined giving them back to his former employer. He'd wear his own smirk on his face then. He'd tell Brendan exactly how much he hated him, how he didn't fucking need these clothes, and he didn't need him.

Placing them in an old sports bag, he made his way back to Carter and Hay, this time no longer running. He felt calm this time, composed. He wondered whether this was one of those stages - is that what they were called? Acceptance. Where all the panic and anger and hurt left you, and all there was was the realisation that this was the way things had to be.

After putting the bag into the corner, Ste had moved into the main shop front, sitting on the sofa by the window. He'd heard the door open again, and had looked round, alarmed, expecting blue eyes, dark brows, a long moustache, a muscular, sculptured body.

"What are you doing here?"

"I missed you." He spoke it softly, almost hopefully. "On the stall" he clarified, as if admitting to Ste that he missed him was something too big, the implications too strong.

Ste could hardly look at Doug. He'd let him down. He'd gone against everything Ste had told him. The only condition of their friendship had been that Brendan not get involved in any capacity, and Doug had made sure that he was tied to them forever.

"I didn't even know what happiness was until you kissed me. So I won't make you sad again, or hurt you." Doug took Ste's hand in his own, holding on to it for dear life.

"Whatever it is that I need to do, to get you to look at me like that again...please, just tell me. Because I need you. I love you."

Ste wanted to squeeze his eyes tightly shut and open them again to a new world. A world where Doug wasn't speaking the exact same words that he'd always wanted Brendan to say. It was all wrong, all backwards. It wasn't the right person.

But maybe he could be, in time.

Moving his hand out from Doug's, Ste watched him as he walked away, still crying, defeated. More than anything Ste wanted to reach out to him, as a friend, like they used to be. He knew what Doug felt like, to love someone so desperately and dangerously that it threatened to ruin everything else, including yourself.

Ste wasn't sure that he had the energy to love someone like that again. But he wasn't sure if he could survive being alone again either.

It had come to him then, and it had frightened him how easily the idea had entered his mind. Staring between the framed photograph of himself and Doug, and the coffee cup that Brendan had given him that morning, four sugars in it just how he liked it, he'd known that there was only one thing he could do.

He had to hate Brendan, and make Brendan hate him. If Brendan wanted to play games, then he would play them. Just not the one he expected.

Walking over to the Savage's party, Ste felt shaky, fragile. Every step he took felt unsure, hesitant. He didn't understand it. This was meant to be the moment when everything changed.

Finding Brendan standing underneath the Chez Chez stall, music playing in the background and students laughing around him, he took a deep breath and swallowed.

"Did you mean what you said? About changing?"

Brendan was silent for a moment. Ste briefly wondered whether he was going to take it all back. Everything he said, all the promises he had made.

Then Brendan's words rang out, clear and emphatic. "Every word."

You liar.

"Okay then."

He saw Brendan glance over Ste's shoulder, to where he knew Doug was standing. Watching the whole thing. Ste was glad that he couldn't see him. He couldn't have continued lying, not with Doug's face in front of him.

Brendan smiled and ducked out from underneath the stall. He moved closer to Ste and put his hand on the back of his neck. Ste could feel Brendan's soft fingers on his hair. Brendan used his hand to pull Ste into a kiss. Their first kiss in ten months.

Ste felt himself responding, as if Brendan was a magnet drawing him to him. He loathed both of them for making him feel like kissing Brendan was the most natural thing in the world. Like it was an animalistic need that Ste could never ignore.

Pulling away, an ache in his chest at the action, his heart jolted as he saw Brendan's disappointment when he said "No."

Laying out his terms, the terms he knew would trap Brendan, he felt a lack of satisfaction at how real his words sounded. He had expected to feel happy that he was fooling Brendan, that this all came so easily. But there was nothing there. Emptiness.

"Douglas?" Brendan asked, and the way he said it made Ste sure that he was asking far more than that.

Ste had been sure that it was just possession Brendan had been worried about with Doug. That it was all about his desire to own Ste, for no one else to be able to touch him.

Now he wasn't so sure.

Ste smiled. He had no idea why.

Using both his hands to cup Brendan's face, he titled his head and softly kissed the older man, feeling the familiar sensation of his moustache on his upper lip.

Ten months.

Ste could feel Brendan's hands softly pawing at his shirt. That was new. Brendan was always so forceful, his hands and mouth assured, dominant. Was it because he was kissing Ste in public, where people could see them and judge them? Or was it something else entirely?

Ste drew away as quickly as possible. Long enough so that he wouldn't arouse Brendan's suspicions, fast enough so that he wouldn't have to taste that familiar, forever remembered heady scent on the tip of his tongue. He had already felt Brendan begin to open up into the kiss, and the feel of Brendan's smooth skin underneath his hands brought back a thousand memories. Not all of them good, but ever present nonetheless, and impossible to ignore.

Brendan's eyes were closed for a moment, as if savouring the taste of the boy on his lips after so long apart. Then he looked up into Ste's eyes, and Ste forced himself to stare back. Brendan was looking at him like he couldn't quite believe it was happening, and it took him aback. He'd expected confidence, celebration, some sort of sign that Brendan had known all along that he would come back to him. Where was that man from the other night, expecting him to return to some swanky hotel room at the end of the evening, and be there in the morning? There was no trace of that left behind now. Brendan was looking at him in a way that he once would have loved, but could now only despise, because it would still never be enough.

Brendan didn't even look around at the crowds at the party. There were far more people there than at Chez Chez the night that Brendan had kissed him in front of Cheryl, Warren, Mitzeee and Noah. And yet back then Brendan had been practically manic, his eyes darting from left to right, as though his own actions had taken him completely by surprise, and he wanted to take it back, all of it, but he had no idea how.

This time, Brendan stroked Ste's face as though there was no one else there but them. He looked hungrily at his lips the whole time, and Ste strongly suspected that it was only through his own interruption that Brendan did not push Ste behind the stall and go down on him there and then.

"Brendan, I have to find Amy."

Ste knew that she'd offered to help at the deli's stall, and she was probably wondering where he was.

Brendan brushed his fingers against Ste's lips. He couldn't believe that this was the same man who hadn't even been able to hold his hand. He wondered what would happen now if he reached out and took it, then dismissed the thought from his mind. He didn't want that.

"No."

'What?"

"I said no. I need to be with you, Steven."

The way he said it left Ste in no doubt of his true meaning.

"I can't...we can't do that, Brendan." Ever. "Not until you ring the solicitor."

Brendan stared at him stubbornly. "Can't we just...find somewhere? Before all that. Please."

Brendan put his hand on Ste's hip and stroked the skin there. Brendan begging Ste for sex should have been another cause for celebration. One more humiliation for Ste to hold against him at a further date. Ste felt ashamed and disgusted with himself when he felt his cock twitch instead.

"No. Not if you really want to do this properly."

Brendan sighed, frustrated. Ste wondered whether he was going to tell him to get lost, that he could find it elsewhere if he wasn't going to give it to him. Ste wondered whether he was already finding it elsewhere.

Then Brendan nodded, as if coming to a decision within himself. "Whatever you want."

Motioning for Brendan to follow him, Ste walked until he found Amy, having just finished serving a customer. She looked relaxed, until she saw that he had returned.

"Where have you been, I've been on my own here!"

This was going to be one of the hardest things of all. But he had to do it. Brendan was standing only footsteps behind him, and he had to believe all this. One word from Amy, one inkling that she knew the truth, and the whole thing would collapse.

Asking her to wait at the stall for a while longer, Ste walked back towards Brendan, and allowed himself to be kissed. It was different to before. Brendan was kissing him this time, and he wasted no time in rubbing there tongues together. Ste felt that old sensation of being devoured, and he didn't pull away as quickly this time. It was hard to, like severing a tie.

He felt Amy's eyes on him the entire time, and could sense her shock and horror from where he was standing. He waited, playing Brendan, denying him that other kiss that he so craved, until he did exactly what Ste wanted, and called the solicitor.

Amy seemed to be buying it, anyway. As he ran after Brendan, he distinctly heard her shouting after him.

"He will mess you up again. He does it every time Ste, every time!"

What if I mess him up? What if it's my turn now?

xxxx

"I'll look after you, I promise."

Ste nibbled his lips, then took a sip from his beer. He needed to do something to distract himself from what was happening.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to buy me."

Brendan stared at the the solicitor sat beside Ste. As far as they were both concerned, the man may as well not have been in the room. Any interaction with him was kept to the minimum. Their eyes were fixed on each other.

"I'm setting him free," he said to the solicitor.

Like I'm some sort of caged bird.

Brendan held a pen in his hand. "Come on, sign."

Ste took hold of it and bent over the papers. After a moments hesitation, he signed his signature. It couldn't be this easy, could it? He was waiting for the catch, for Brendan to reveal that he knew his game, that he'd known it all along.

He could feel Brendan's eyes on him as he wrote, and when he looked up Brendan made no attempt to look away. Taking the pen back, Brendan signed the papers. Just like that.

Ste stared into his eyes. I've won. He couldn't help but smile.

Brendan didn't break his gaze for a moment. A light hint of a smile traced across his features. Ste felt himself grow hot, and had a feeling that all the beer in the world wouldn't help him.

"I'll leave you to it."

Ste hardly looked around as the solicitor left. All that he could hear was his shoes clanging down the steps, the silence. What now?

Brendan answered that for him. Smiling again, he leaned forward slowly. In reality it was only a few seconds before Brendan's lips met his own, but it seemed to take longer in Ste's mind. His whole vision was clouded with Brendan's eyes and lips and hair. He didn't know what he was drawn to the most. The eyes, which were both soft and full of a yet as unfulfilled desire. His lips, which had been all over Ste, parts of his body which used to make him blush at the thought, but had then come to accept as natural, beautiful. Lips which had the power to open him up and make his body come off the bed, tense with passion. Lips which made him forget himself, which tasted unlike anyone else's. And hair, which was smooth beneath Ste's hands, which he'd caressed as Brendan lay sleeping, during the rare few nights that they'd spent together.

When Brendan's lips brushed against his, Ste allowed him to keep his own there longer than before. Brendan was leaning over the table, and Ste was once again reminded of the force of him, the things he could do with his body.

It was too much. It was all too much.

"Right, Brendan." He broke away, laughing to cover how uncomfortable he felt. "I own a business now. I need to get back before Amy kills me."

Standing up and taking the papers with him, he prepared to go down the stairs, out into the air, where he could breathe again.

"Steven."

Ste stilled. He never could quite get over how perfect his name sounded on Brendan's lips, like it was meant just for him.

"Yeah?"

He didn't trust himself around Brendan. He had exactly what he needed. Brendan had fallen for it, against all odds. There was nothing to keep him there anymore.

"Don't go."

Ste almost wondered whether he'd heard him right. Brendan never begged, for anything. He never needed anyone.

"I told you, I have to get back."

"Amy can wait. She'll be okay."

Brendan motioned with his finger for Ste to come towards him. Ste did, step by step, half believing that if he went slowly enough, there was still time to back out. That it didn't truly mean anything.

Ste sat awkwardly on the sofa again, across from Brendan.

When Brendan stood up, Ste shuffled backwards, wary of his advance. But Brendan merely walked past him, down the steps. Ste was confused, and thought for a moment that Brendan had left completely, leaving him on his own. Then he heard the sound of a lock being scraped across wood, and Brendan reemerged, looking immensely pleased with himself.

"The door's locked."

Fuck. He knows what I did. He's going to hit me.

"Brendan..."

"I know, I know. Amy needs you. You've got a business now. But..."

Brendan sat down on the table in front of him.

"Stay with me. Just for a little while."

Ste suddenly felt unbearably hot, the veins standing up on his arms.

"And do what?"

Brendan had that same smile back on his mouth. The one that suggested a multitude of sins.

"I'm sure we can find something."

He leaned forward once more, and Ste glimpsed the prominent dark chest hair underneath his shirt. It was so close to him that he could practically feel it brushing against him, its masculinity making Ste want to reach out and touch it, lay his lips against it.

"I really have to -"

"Steven." Brendan put his hand on the boy's thigh, and it slowly rode up, so that it settled close to the bulge in his trousers.

"I love you."

The surprise of it felt like it was knocking the wind out of him.

He hadn't heard those words since the first time Brendan had spoken them. The initial force of them had stopped Ste from walking out of the door. They'd made him stay even when Cheryl told him to take time off work. Even when Brendan told him they had to stay away from each other while Declan was there. Ste had thought that as bad as all that was, perhaps it was worth of it. Because Brendan loved him.

Somehow now, it didn't feel enough. And somehow it did.

"I can't...please..."

Please, don't let me do this again. This is meant to be me moving on.

"I do. I always have. And I always will. Till I'm in my grave, remember?"

Ste had to shut him up. Being loved by Brendan, when he least wanted to be, was more painful than he could put into words.

"Do you love me, Steven?"

Ste realised how much Brendan looked like a confused little boy. Perhaps he just wanted what everyone wanted.

Not for the first time, Ste thought how much less complicated it was just to kiss Brendan.

So he did. Again and again and again, until he didn't know if he could stop. Brendan had to stop it for him.

Brendan started pulling at his trousers. They were chinos, his uniform at the deli, and they came off easier than his usual jeans. They were baggier, looser.

"What are you - what are you doing?"

Stupid question. I know what he's doing. I want him to do it.

"Don't worry, I told you. The door's locked."

As if that was the biggest thing they had to worry about.

Ste made no move to stop as Brendan, having finished with his trousers, leaving them on a heap on the floor, then got started on his boxers. He was wearing a stripey pair, not his finest. Brendan smiled as he eyed them up. Ste could have sworn he looked almost...fond.

He laughed. He laughed behind my back after feeding me all those lies.

Brendan had Ste's boxers off within a second, and his fingers moved to fondle his balls, the smattering of dark hair that surrounded them, his cock which stood up thick and proud, against his own volition. Ste leaned his head back against the sofa, and tried to concentrate on moderating his breathing. It had been a long time since they'd last been together, almost a year. It had been just as long since he'd slept with a man. Adam had never penetrated him. They'd come close, but every time there had always been something in the way. The kids, Amy, Doug, Brendan. He'd missed the feel of being touched like this, of being adored. When they were together like this, he didn't think anyone could adore him as much as Brendan.

Brendan began kissing him, tonguing everywhere except his cock.

The fucking tease.

He wetted the patches of hair on his inner thighs, moving over to lick his balls, before sucking on them delicately, in a way that made Ste arch his back, desperate to push more of himself inside Brendan's mouth. It felt like a slow torture, as if his skin had set alight, his blood pumping around his body at an unbearable speed. He could hear Brendan groaning beneath him, as if he was just as affected by this as Ste was. Taking his mouth away from Ste's balls, he licked the head of Ste's cock, in that way of his that was teasing, playful, building up Ste's anticipation by not putting his whole mouth around it.

Ste tangled his hand in Brendan's hair, encouraging him closer to his cock.

"Bren." He hated himself for pleading, but he was frantic for that warmth, that release. They didn't have much room on the sofa, and the leather made their bodies slip and slide even more. Ste didn't care. He'd have had Brendan against the floor if he'd had to. Inside the Chez Chez toilets if necessary, like all the other times. He'd have him wherever, whenever, however, because when they were doing this, he'd never felt so connected to another human being in all his life.

Brendan stared up at him from behind glazed eyes and spit slicked lips. Just that one glance alone was enough to make Ste feel his cock strain painfully. The beauty of Brendan left him mesmerised. He could read every expression on his face, every filthy, lustful thought he had, every good one, every bad one, and all the ones in between.

Ste thought Brendan might laugh at him for how much he wanted it. But he said nothing, and merely looked down again, opening up his mouth, ready to place Ste inside it.

"Wait."

"Make your mind up, Steven." He could hear the humour there, the informality of it all. They were like...they were like they used to be. Playing in bed, making fun of each others desires, to hide their own wonderment at how incredible they found each other.

"I want to...lets not waste any time, yeah?" Ste was aching for him, and no amount of trying to pleasure himself at night compared to this. He had a sinking feeling that nothing ever would.

Brendan seemed to understand without Ste having to articulate further. He was glad, because telling Brendan to fuck him wasn't something which he particularly wanted to say, not after all those months spent telling Brendan that he didn't want him. It would be like admitting defeat, and Ste was tired of being defeated. He felt strong in Brendan's arms. Sleeping with him always had been so much easier than talking to him. When they were inside each other, it was all about what they could give each other, what they could do for each other. Everything was focused on that one moment. Brendan pounding into him, Ste swearing and shouting from the top of his lungs, having never experienced such an intense orgasm in his life before he'd met this man.

It was so much easier to believe that Brendan loved him when their bodies lay together, side by side, coming down from the high that enveloped them both. Separating from each other, that weary look that always permeated Brendan's features overcoming him, caused Ste physical pain. Every time he felt like he'd lost something, and it was a loss he could never quite get over. It repeated itself again and again.

Attempting to shake these thoughts from his mind, Ste looked down as he saw Brendan lick his own fingers, then slowly insert one into his hole. He could feel it stretching him, its warm, soft, wet skin opening him up, making him ready for what they were about to do. Ste almost thought there was no need, not that time. He may not have been touched there by Brendan's slick digits for ten months, but he had never felt more ready in his life.

After inserting two fingers, halting at the third when Ste impatiently told him that it was okay, Brendan reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom. Ste wondered when he had put it there, whether he had been expecting him to come to him, as he always did. Part of him felt angry that Brendan would presume such a thing. But another part of him couldn't stay angry, because without it they would have to stop. Ste didn't think he could wait for Brendan to go to the shops and fetch supplies. He was fully, painfully aware that he didn't know where Brendan had been these past few months. But Ste's need to have Brendan was so strong that he wasn't sure he could wait. Every safe sex lecture went out of his head when he was around this man. It was so often Brendan who had reminded him that they had to be careful, who had stilled him when he'd tried to take things further without protection.

"Are you stupid?"

"No. I just want you so much that sometimes it frightens me. I'd do anything to be with you."

He'd felt like saying it a million times, but had always stopped himself. Instead he'd always waited while Brendan ripped the condom from its foil and slipped it onto his erect cock.

As he watched Brendan do the same now, Ste took a good look at it, familiarising himself with the shape and size. If he was honest, he'd have liked to have taken things slower between them. Explored each other more. Been able to touch that cock before it went inside him, and witnessed Brendan squirm in his hands, losing control in the way that he only did with Ste. But he couldn't wait, not this time. His body had full say in this situation.

Ste eagerly put his legs around Brendan's shoulders, as if they had never been apart.

"Still flexible," Brendan murmured.

Ste anchored his bottom as far back as he could, so that it gave Brendan the perfect leeway to enter him.

When he first felt Brendan's cock begin to breach, he gasped. It hurt, but it was a strange kind of pain, not entirely unwanted. He was reminded of the first night that he and Brendan had spent together. How Brendan had pushed through that barrier, and Ste had felt like his insides were being torn in two. He'd cried out in pain, thinking that he wasn't so sure that this was what he wanted anymore. Brendan had kissed his lips softly, comfortingly.

"You okay?" he'd whispered, stilling his actions.

Ste hadn't known whether to answer honestly - that it fucking hurt - or whether to lie and continue, trying to push past the pain.

What Brendan had done then had disarmed him. He'd stroked his cheek more affectionally than he ever had before, and stared down into Ste's eyes, his gaze so intense and penetrating that Ste forget the discomfort he'd felt moments before.

"You'll be okay, yeah? It will stop hurting soon. But if you want me to stop..."

Ste believed him. Believed that he would stop, if he asked.

But stopping would mean giving up, on them. And Ste wasn't ready to do that. He wanted to know how it felt on the other side.

How it had felt, he'd come to know, was better than anything else on that earth.

"Keep going," Ste whispered now, their movements making the leather sofa squeak.

Brendan pushed in further, and began to move inside of him. Ste felt a frisson of excitement build up in him, and he realised with embarrassment that his mouth was open, his lips parted, panting from the exertion of Brendan's actions.

They both tried to make it last, not least because if it ended, they didn't know what else would. When Brendan began to feel himself disintegrate at the seams, he took hold of Ste's cock and began to stroke it frantically, the sweat from his hands acting as the perfect lubricant that made Ste writhe beneath him in arousal.

Brendan felt the latex fill with his cum, and his stomach and palm was suddenly sticky, as he knew it would be. All that time apart, and they still knew exactly which buttons to push, at exactly which time.

Brendan lay on top of Ste, getting his breath back, waiting till both their heart beats returned to their normal rhythms. Then he rolled off Ste and lay beside him. The sofa was even more cramped now that they were lying next to each other, and Ste was suddenly aware of how close they were. He could smell and taste the scents and salty tang of sex. It was inescapable, and Ste felt suffocated, enclosed in such a small space with this man who he'd been trying to screw over less than an hour before.

Perhaps that should of felt like some sort of a victory. Fucking him, then fucking him over. The cherry on top of the cake.

He just felt empty.

Aware that he was naked for the first time, in the middle of the day, when anyone could be outside trying the lock, Ste sat up on the sofa, trying to avert his eyes from Brendan's now flaccid cock.

He couldn't make sense of what he'd done.

Brendan already looked like he was in the mood to doze, reluctant to get up. He moved a finger idly down his own chest, playing with the strands of hair there. Ste could hear him softly humming under his breath.

"I have to go," Ste said, attempting to make his voice as neutral as possible, making sure that his tone didn't betray him.

He took his trousers and shirt off the floor, dusting them off. Putting them on, he could sense Brendan moving around him. Ste still wasn't sure if he had put any clothes on.

"What's the rush?" Brendan asked, and Ste turned and saw that he was still completely naked. In his rush to have him inside him, Ste hadn't noticed just how broad his chest was, how toned. His body had changed. Ste wondered what else had. All those months of his life that he had missed out on.

"I was thinking we could..." Brendan raised his eyebrow suggestively.

"I really need to get off, me."

Not daring to look at Brendan again, Ste grabbed the papers that contained both their signatures. The key that would set Ste loose.

By the time Ste had turned around, Brendan was in his trousers, smiling at Ste. That same strange smile.

"We have all the time in the world, Steven."

Ste was sure that his face would give the game away. Of what he'd done, of what he was still sure he'd do. Because he had to go through with it. He didn't see what other choice he had. He just wished...he wished for things he couldn't say.

Ste swallowed down his hatred for himself, his hatred for Brendan making him love him, time and time again. He tried to remember that boy who had looked at Brendan with everything but hate. Who had thought he was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him. And the best.

Ste smiled, and in that moment, it felt genuine.

Running down the steps and unlocking the door, he found himself running again to Carter and Hay. There was no sign of Doug there. Perhaps he was at the Savage's party still, enjoying the celebrations. Ste would find him later. He never had to know what had happened at the club. Doug and Brendan were completely separate in his mind. The way he spoke to them, the way he felt about them. All separate.

Ste washed his hands in the kitchen, scrubbing at them, trying to replace the smell of Brendan with soap.

When he finished he leaned against the sink, and it was then that he noticed the bag that he'd left in the corner.

He imagined Brendan's face when he gave him back the clothes. How crushed he'd look, how he'd get just a little inkling of how he'd made Ste feel. How Ste had considered taking him back, before he saw that smirk on his CCTV monitor, making him realise that he didn't know how to differentiate between fiction and the truth anymore.

Unzipping the bag, Ste held the t-shirt in his hands. It still had that distinct smell of Brendan, and Ste had no idea how. They'd been apart for weeks while Brendan had been in prison, and Ste had washed it in that time. All traces of Brendan should have gone.

And yet it was all around him, all around the material. Chez Chez was Brendan for him. Was that it, why he couldn't let it go? Because everything was a reminder?

"I love you. Do you love me, Steven?"

Ste held onto the t-shirt until it was painfully tight in his hands, bunched under his palms, making his knuckles turn white.

Putting down the t-shirt into its bag, Ste zipped it up securely, putting it on the sofa so he would remember to take it home.

Sitting down behind the wooden table, he took out a piece of paper and a pen, and began to write.

"Dear Brendan."