You're getting agitated now. You play with your newly acquired keys at your newly acquired dining table looking out at the large park in front of you as some teenage boys gulp down 2 litre bottles of cider, recklessly. Chester's finest.

"You said you were making a fresh start for yourself Bren… I just, I don't see how this is going to help?"

You tap your foot manically on the cold tiled floor. "Come on Chez, just did you find out for me, yes or no?" There's a silence that panics you. "Chez, please." And you realise that your please sounds more like: You owe me this.

You feel a slight twang of guilt when you hear your sister sigh. "You know I have."

"Well?" You ask impatiently.

"9 liverpool road. Just past the dog, under the bridge. You know it?"

"Yeah, yeah I know it." You breathe out heavily as you scribble the address down on a piece of paper. The most important piece of paper you feel like you've ever owned.

"When are you going to go see him?"

Your throat's dry all of a sudden and you notice that when you open your mouth, you struggle to speak. After leaving prison about 4 months ago, you went to stay with your sister in North Wales, your parole conditions the only thing (Eileen aside) not allowing you to make a fresh start with your boys in Ireland. It was nice, staying with Cheryl and Nate but you never quite settled, never quite realised why until one day, when Cheryl and Nate were out checking out prams for their baby bump and you let the house phone ring through to voicemail, you heard his voice. Steven's voice.

Hiyer Chez, just checking in 'cos we ain't talked for a while 'ave we? And I've only just told me that you called not long ago… Anyway, just to say that I'm doing good and that I hope that bump is doing good. Don't forget to tell him or her that his Uncle Ste loves it, OK? Er, yeah, I think that's it. Anyway, give us a ring when you're free. Love ya.

It took all of your strength not to pick up the phone. It was then that you knew you could never make a fresh start. Not whilst there was Steven. And not while there was a chance. Cause there always was one, wasn't there?

"Bren?"

You almost forgot your sister was still there. "Tomorrow. I'm going to see him tomorrow."

You could almost hear your sisters reservations but she respected you enough not to air them. "Ok. Just…be careful yeah."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"People move on love. I just… I don't want you getting hurt if he has. Love you."

"Yeah." You say, almost whisper as nerves suddenly invade your stomach. "Yeah, love ye too."

….

You did it. You went to see him. You stood on the corner of his street and waited. For sign of life, for signs of him, you weren't really sure. When you woke up that morning, you had almost rehearsed what you wanted to say to him. You didn't know if he'd want to kiss you or kill you, or both. Truth be told, you didn't care. You just needed something from him, anything, just to know that he wasn't a figment of your imagination. Just to know that your heart had been aching for something real for these past 3 years.

It was Cheryl's words that had been ringing in your ears which slowed the process down. The ones that made your feet glue to the ground. The ones that when you saw him smile and throw his arms around an older man that made you sharply intake your breath then turn and get back in your car without even looking back.

You were on your 4th whisley when your phone rang. Your heart leapt at the ringtone, part of you wondering that maybe, just maybe…but of course, it was just your sister. About the only person bar your kids, Nate and Anne who actually had your new phone number.

"Yeah?"

"Hey Brendan. I was just…y'know."

"No, I don't know."

"Y'know, wondering how thing's went today. With…y'know?"

"Steven." You say, loudly, firmly. It's the one thing that makes him seem real, his name.

"Yeah, sorry. Ste." She must pick up on your frustration because you can almost see her twisted face behind the phone. "So, how did it go?"

You close your eyes and shake your head. Half in disappointment and half in anger at yourself, anger that you didn't have the bottle to see him. To wait for him. "I didn't speak to him. I couldn't do it."

"Oh love…"

You put the phone down then. The last thing you needed was pity. It was the one thing you had managed to avoid in all your years of existence. Even when you probably deserved it. Besides, you couldn't cope with what you knew your next sisters would be. It was then when your phone buzzed up a message.

Cheryl: Why don't you come back and stay with us Bren? Xxx

You'd laugh at how well you know her, if you could muster the strength.

A couple months down the line, with Cheryl's guilt money tiding you over, you somehow fall on your feet and land yourself a managers job in a club just on the outskirts of town.

"I'm going to pay you back every penny, Chez, honestly."

"No way. It's the least I could do."

You were affronted by that. You'd do it all again if you had to. In the end, you managed to convince her you would pay her back.

You had some serious convincing to do to get the job though – it was an old friend of an acquaintance, you see. And it wasn't so much your criminal record, but your reputation. You had to convince the owner – Billy, or William – that you weren't about to re-start a criminal empire. Which you weren't, not least because you didn't want to see the inside of a prison cell ever again but because it would have all been a waste of time wouldn't it? The councelling, the changing – the striving to be a better man, for… Anyways, you paid off some hobo to come into the club and cause a scene on your 'second interview' as it was called and you dealt with him swiftly and easily enough to make your new boss' eyes twinkle. What? You didn't say that you were an angel…

Your first few days were awkward. Mr Billy Big Balls keeping an eye on you wherever you went. You couldn't blame him, you supposed, if anything you would have done exactly the same. Although you'd like to think you'd have spotted through the set up straight away. Takes one to know one and all that… After your first 3 months, he started coming into the club less and less. Then, six months down the line, he handed you the keys.

"I've got 2 other businesses and a young family Brendan. I don't need the hassle. You run it as you see fit. As long as your making me money, you won't be seeing me any more."

"You're not looking to sell are you, William?" You half joked.

"Maybe." He patted you on the shoulder. "And if I do, you'll have first refusal."

You're still waiting for that day. Until you can be King of your own Castle once again.

….

It was a month later when your life changed. You'd been settled and in charge of the club for about 7, almost 8 months now. The staff knew how you worked. They'd heard rumours – which you neither confirmed nor denied because fear was still how you did things. There was a mouthy young thing – Andrew – about 24, dirty hair, slight frame. You liked him. He reminded you of Steven. You had to get rid of him for your own sanity – with a handsome pay off of course. No questions asked.

It was just another routine day in the club – bottom floor full of chavs and students, top floor, your baby was for the more upmarket guest. The people who were willing to pay for quality. The over 25's. They were separated by a red rope, bouncer and a faux silk curtain.

"'Ere y'ar mate – she said she just wants to get her fella!" You'd recognise that Manchester drawl anywhere.

"First, I'm not your mate. Second, she's underage. Third, there's no way I'm letting you in with that shirt, you'd scare away the customers."

Your heart was pounding, trying to fight it's way out of your chest but you couldn't help yourself. You had to look. You carefully peered back the curtain at the side and watched as Steven's face scumpled up in offence. His bottom lip jutted out, just so, ready to give your bouncer a mouth full no doubt. A smile played on your lips.

That smile disappeared when his eyes looked directly at yours. He didn't recognise them. Of course he didn't. Anger and the thick darkness that surrounded you had clouded his vision.

You were the focus of his fury then.

"Getting a good look there are ya mate?" You couldn't take your eyes off him. The way his cheekbones spiked out. They way his eyes still pierced your soul. "Yeah, well her fella's in there, right, and he'd beat the shit out of you if he knew you were perving on her."

Paul, the bouncer peered his head around the curtain, and smirked. Probably. You didn't really see him. Just felt his eyes on you. There was only one person that your eyes were on.

"I don't think she's really his type, mate."

You saw it click with Steven then. That look of fury turned into one of curiosity as he narrowed his eyes, not just to look at you. But to really see you. You saw something flash across his eyes and that's when your nerves got the better of you and you moved out of view.

"Fuck this Sinead. I'm out of here." You heard him mutter to the girl beside him. "And you can tell peeping Tom in there," his voice was louder now for your benefit. "that he's got nice eyes, for a creep."

And suddenly the smile was back on your face.

It was the end of the night now, the final straggler had been kicked out 20minutes ago and it was left to a few of the staff to wipe down the tables, sweep and mop the floor and re-stock the fridges. Normally, you'd be sure to do the re-stocking. You didn't sleep much anyway and enjoyed sticking the man in black on the sound system and sorting the bar how you liked it. Bottles had to be a certain angle, optics had to be filled to a certain level. It soothed you, in a way. Gave your mind something to focus on, however mundane it might appear to others.

Not tonight though. No, tonight you spent in your office, rewinding the CCTV until you found him. You found Steven with the group he came with, desperate to see who was in his life now that you weren't. But most of all desperate to see him, just him. There was no sign of the bloke that you saw him hugging those months back but that might not mean anything, you told yourself. Couples are allowed to go out separately and besides, the club scene was probably not for him.

You felt your hands begin to shake, tried to tell yourself that it wasn't the thought of Steven, your Steven, with another man that was the cause of it. You brought your tumblr full of whiskey to your lips and let another gulp burn your throat. You'd had just enough so that your eyes were beginning to glaze over.

This needed to stop. This pining over something that wasn't there anymore. Over someone that didn't love you – not the way that you loved them. The way that you still love them. You don't feel any differently.

It was then that you heard the commotion, the raised voices that sounded like they were coming from just outside the club door. You always kept a bouncer there while you closed up – not because you wouldn't be capable of dealing with any threats, just that it was better if you didn't get your hands too dirty anymore and if you did have to, it was always good to have a reliable witness.

Usually, you'd let Marti, your man on the door deal with it but something drew you closer and it was only as you hovered at the other side of the door that you knew what.

"Listen, I just want me coat, alright? I left it earlier."

"Yeah and as I said – we're closed."

"Oh right, so there's no-one up there counting the cash, restocking the fridges? Sorting out the cellar?" You could hear Marti grumble a no and if you closed your eyes, you could see Steven stood there, arms folded, face like thunder, ready to let rip. "That's why you're stood here then looking like an 'ard man then is it?"

"I ain't letting you in."

"Look, don't think I'm stupid right. I used to work in a bar dint'I? Pratically run the place. My fella, he did run the place. And I know when someone's just being a jobsworth."

Next thing you know, the street light is beaming in through the cracks in the wooden door and there's an almighty bang down the side of the building. You hear Steven cry out in pain and it's then that your instinct to protect him over powers the instinct to protect yourself from him.

You shoot through the door and around the corner just Marti lays the boot, thick and hard into Steven's rib cage. "I've had just about enough of you, you little queer."

You see red flash before your eyes and then the red of Marti's blood as your fist connects with his nose and then his lips and the next thing you know, you've got him pinned against the stone wall with your forearm, his bloodied lips gasping for air.

"Brendan…..what…the…" He manages to squeeze out before you shush him with your free hand.

"Ssshhh, save your breath, Martin. Save it to explain to that little lady of yours why you've been sacked without pay. And how you managed to walk into that door on your way out." You pull away from him and straighten out his jacket.

"But Brendan," He gasps, catching his breath. "I don't get…"

"You don't touch him. You hear me? No one ever touches him." You yell and for the first time, you chance a look at Steven, holding onto his busted lip, his eyes full of confusion and hurt. But not by the hands of Marti. "Now go on, get lost."

When he leaves you let out breathy sigh, your eyes remaining focused on the wall in front of you. You not finding the courage to look at Steven until he says your name, as if to make sure it's all real.

You see his hand shaking, and blood dripping on his white shirt. And despite it all, despite the dishevelled mess that Marti has made of him, his beauty is breath taking. You unbutton your blue shirt sleeve so that it becomes wider and you take an uneasy step towards him.

"Here." You say, almost whisper as you bring up your sleeve to his mouth and gently dab the blood away. You don't dare look in his eyes – you're feeling overwhelemed as it is, being this close to him again, close enough to smell him, close enough to see the small scar just by the edge of his mouth.

His hand comes up to touch your face, the stubble where your moustache used to be. "It's…" Your hand stops dabbing and you look into his eyes then. His lashes damp from the mist that has begun to form behind his eyes. "It's really you."

"Yeah…" You half smile, your thumb rubbing over his, a nervous smile playing on your lips. "Yeah it's me."

It's then that you see it in his eyes. The confusion which had turned to something like adoration turn again to something like hatred. A hatred you could only feel for someone that you once loved. You knew that were losing him all over again.

You bring your hands to the sides of his face, cupping them gently as you force your foreheads together. You're heart pleading with him to stay with you, to believe in you, even now, even still.

"You're out and…you've…I can't believe…"

"No, no Steven." You're beginning to sound despereate now, the speed at which you relay your words confirming it. "Please, just…just come inside. We'll get you cleaned up. I'll explain everything… I promise."

You can feel his lip quivering and his head shaking against your own. Your losing him…and it's terrifying you. You move your hands to his neck so that you can grip him more firmly. "Please Steven…please, just…just stay with me." Your stomach drops with the irony of the words. "I'll explain everything. I promise I will. I promise."

He brings his hands over yours and rips them away. Rips his whole body away. He's biting on his lip now to stop it from trembling. His voice is breaking and if you look into his eyes, you feel like you can see his heart breaking to.

"And when have you ever kept one of those, eh?" He spits.

And then he's walking past you. And he's out of sight. And you just wish that if you hadn't been so wrapped in the thought of losing him you could have told him you'd kept the most important promise you'd ever made to him.

You don't feel any differently about him.

….

Your head's banging from the night before, not help by the 5 missed calls by your sister. You stretch slowly, being as gentle as you can for your head (banging from the bottle of Jamesons you finished off after hours), and throw on some tracksuit bottoms and a tight t-shirt. As you do, you see the bloodied blue shirt discarded on the floor and that's when you realise that for once, it wasn't a dream. Steven, his voice, his smell, his touch – it was all real.

You slip your phone into your pocket, making a mental note to call your sister later, then walk into the kitchen, popping yourself two parecetmol to gulp down with your water. Your eyes glance over to the material that's folded neatly on your sofa, a light blue tracksuit top. You run your fingers over the smooth material and smile – it smells of him.

You take your phone out, press dial and hold it to your ear. "Chez, give me his number."

"Bren…"

"I need his number, Chez. Text it me." You don't care how short you're being. Right now there's only one thing that matters.

"He'd kill me Bren, I…"

"I've seen him Chez." The gasp on the other end gets the reaction you require. "Well, he saw me."

"You…what, where…when?"

"Last night." You reply, feeling the click in the back of your throat, your senses heightened as you remember the smell of him. His touch… "He, he came to the club and…anyway. I just, I really need to talk to him and I know if I go to him, he won't give me the time of day." You close your eyes as you are met with silence on the other end. "Please, Chez…please."

"Ok."

….

The dial tone seemed to take last for minutes, rather than seconds. Your breath hitched when it stopped as you waited for the moment that you'd hear his voice.

"Hello?"

Your throat clicked as you lubricated it. You listened as he repeated his greeting, elongating the vowels. "Hello? Anyone there?" You were mesmorised by the mere sound of him. It was like you had forgotten how to speak. "Listen, whoever it is right, I can hear you breathing…I know that you're there…"

You thought about hanging up. When he said your name, you did.

You stared at the phone for what seemed like an eternity. Three minutes had gone by. You knew that because you watched them tick by in silence. Your phone began to ring and your fingers stretched towards it, then back again as you closed your eyes and imagined him again.

You pressed answer.

"Steven." You said simply and it sounded like it knocked the breath out of him.

"I knew it was you. What sorta person phones someone up and dun't say owt, eh?"

You stifle a laugh at his aggression. You've missed it. "Sorry." It seems weak. So you say it again and you pray that he realises that your apology isn't just for the phone call. "Steven, I'm sorry."

You hear what sounds like sniff and you wonder for a moment if it's because he feels it too. Feels the importance of this…it's…everything. But your hopes are dashed when he next speaks.

"Dun't matter anyway. I'm just calling, right, to tell you to leave me alone."

"Can't do that, Steven."

"Why not?" His voice seems weaker now, his words come out as if he's trembling, even though you can imagine him, all square jawed and defiant.

Because I love you. Because not a day has gone by when I haven't dreamt of you, of our future. Because I still can't live my life without you. "Got your coat." You hate yourself as soon as the words come out of your mouth. "You left it at the club. I could drop it round, if you like."

"Yeah, well, I've moved."

"Yeah I know. Liverpool road ain't it?"

"How do you…" You can feel the anger radiating through the phone. "Cheryl. Still thick as thieves then?"

"She's my sister, Steven."

"Yeah and I was your…" Your heart speeds up, at the idea that maybe, just maybe, this still affects him. That he remembers you and what you had. "Dun't matter. Listen just…keep it yeah. I don't want it."

"Steven…"

"Just…leave me alone Brendan, right. Just, leave me alone."

You don't say anything, expecting the line to go dead, waiting for the dial tone to ring in your ear but all you hear is breathing. You hold on for as long as possible, wishing you could breathe in everything, all of him through this phone line.

"I love you." You whisper. This time it's the dial tone that responds.

….

You never thought that it'd come to this. You, sat on a doorstep. Waiting. Desperate. Needy. But then again, you never pictured any of this… your life since Steven. But you were Ok with it. And you realised that you'd sit on a thousand doorsteps, with a cheap coat, just to get a mouthful from him.

Just then you jumped up as you heard the creak of the door, Steven's voice echoing from the doorway as he spoke on his phone. "…And I said, I were coming d'int I? Oh my God I don't believe it."

He'd seen you then. His face had contorted in a way that almost gave him wrinkles. "I'm going to have to go Nick. No…nothing I can't handle." His eyes pierced yours. "Just need to clear out the rubbish."

While he slipped the phone into his coat pocket, you took it as an opportunity to look at his body, from head to toe. His chef whites clung around his torso but were loose around his hips. His golden complexion was heightened by the contrast. Your eyes drift to his lips, plump and kissable. You have to fight every urge not to throw him against the nearest wall and kiss the life out of him.

"What do you want, Brendan? I told you not to come."

"Just couldn't live with myself, Steven. The thought of you freezing half to death." You know how much he feels the cold.

The anger in his eyes subsided for a minute before his tongue thrashed against his teeth and it was back. He snatched the coat out of your hand and threw it back into the open door then slammed it shut.

"You could live with leaving me though, couldn't you Brendan?" He spat as he locked his door roughly, checking it once then twice, three times. Some habits never die you see… "When I had nothing and no one."

"Steven if you just let me-"

"No." He said firmly, his shoulders tense, his jaw rigid. He's got some fight in him, this boy. You almost forgot how much. "I won't just let you do anything, right. Save it for someone who cares, yeah?"

"You're telling me that you don't?" You ask, eyebrows raised.

"What I am Brendan is past caring, yeah. Been there. Done that. Got the flamin' t-shirt." He stormed past you, shoulder brushing yours. He left you deflated, defeated. The anger in him almost defeating the love inside you. Almost.

You grab his arm and roughly spin him round. His chest heaves as his eyes bare into you, your hand tightly gripping his arm. "I'll follow you Steven. To work. If that's what it takes for you to listen to me. Because you will. You'll give me five minutes. Even if I have to sit on your doorstep every single fucking day until you do."

His teeth snarled. "You dare Brendan, right…you dare follow me anywhere and I'll…"

"What hate me? Looks to me like you do anyway so what've I gotta lose, huh?"

You watched his adams apple bob gently, his jaw trembling. "I'll…call the police." He tells you, stuttering. "I'll tell 'em you're stalking me."

"Yeah?" You can feel the anger bubbling inside you now. The anger fuelled by love…a love for this angry, stubborn little fucker in front of you. You reach inside your pocket and pull out your phone. You take a look at it and put your faith in him as you hand it. "Be my guest."

He looks surprised as he takes it. The power that you have given him. "I will…I could."

"Yeah." You say, small, vulnerable. "Yeah you could." His eyes flicker to yours. The hatred is gone, replaced by something like pain and conflict. " But you won't."

"How can you be so sure eh? Three little numbers Brendan. Won't look good will it, getting reported after you've just come out?"

You wrap your hand around the hand which holds the phone and take a step closer to him. You notice his eyes drop to your lips as you lick them. "Because I know that as much as you hate me."

"I do." He says firmly, then again…this time weaker. "I do, I hate you."

"I know that you must still love me too. Or else you wouldn't care."

You close the final couple of inches and rest your forehead on his. His shoulders are relaxed now, defeated as he drops your phone back into your hand.

"I can't do this again…I…I just…I can't." His voice is small now. Barely a whisper.

"It's Ok." You hold his neck and role your foreheads. "It's OK Steven."

You feel his loss immediately as he sniffs back his emotions and straightens himself up, loosening himself from your grip. "I've got work til 10:30pm."

"I can come at the end of your shift."

"No. " You nod and get it straight away. You think about all the places you've seen him so far. The club, the new flat, the new restaurant, all of them with one thing in common, they aren't infected by you. "There's a late night café on John st. I'll meet you there just after half 10."

"Ok." And you dare bare something that resembles a smile. "Thankyou Steven."

He doesn't reciprocate, just nods and turns away.

….

Your knee bounces up and down as you check the clock at the front of the shop for the fourth time. It's 10.56. You pick up your cardboard cup and roll it in a circular motion, watching the dregs stick the the sides. You feel deflated, embarrassed and heartbroken. You're about to be angry, let it bubble from within and wash over you but then you realise, if you feel like this over a coffee, how must he have felt each and every time you sent back his letters and rejected his visits.

That moment, you hear the bell of the door go and relief washes over you. He stands, still for a second as he looks over you. Your thick gulp must mirror his when he breaks eye contact and comes over to your table.

You stand up and nod towards the table. "Got you a coffee Steven. It's a little cold but…"

"I can get my own, ta." He says quickly, still stood opposite you.

"Steven."

"No. I don't want anything from you Brendan, right." He snaps then, takes a breath. "I just mean. I'd rather get my own. Trying to cut down on the caffine. But thanks."

You nod your head and push his coffee to the side. You wonder how long you're going to have to do this for. Battle over every little thing. After a minute or so at the counter, he sits down at your table with an orange juice and a cake, a Victoria sponge. He sits back and contemplates you for a moment, then uses his thumb and index finger to push the plate towards you. You then see the cake for what it is. A peace offering.

"I take it it's still you're favourite." You look at him in awe, then nod, and smile.

"Thankyou."

He doesn't say anything, just sits there, staring into his orange. "Look, Brendan. I really don't have long because I need to get back home. Just, say what you gotta say, yeah?"

"What do you need me to say Steven? I…how can I make this right?"

"I don't think you can. "

He looks tired, like the fight that you once knew had gone from his eyes. You automatically begin to raise your finger, wanting to reach out for his cheek but as soon as you so much as flinch, his body goes rigid. You don't have the heart to be rejected again. Your knee begins to bounce again as you look down at your empty coffee cup.

"I couldn't let you live your life like that Steven. Waiting for me. I thought…I thought I was going away for good."

"Yeah but you never though. You got, what…5 years?"

"Yeah. More or less." You feel ashamed, you know you've let him down again.

"And what's the first thing you did when you came out? I can tell you what it wasn't…it wasn't to come straight to me, was it?"

You can hear the bitterness in his words. "I did. I wanted to."

"Words Brendan. Just words…"

"I was afraid, ok?" You almost shout, before you realise you're drawing to much attention to yourselves. He deserves some honesty, he deserves to know that you're more frightened of him and not being wanted by him than you ever imagined possible. "I was afraid, in case…in case you'd moved on and forgotten about me. "

You notice his eyes flicker skywards and the nervous drum of his fingernails. You're about to ask about the man you saw at his house those months ago, then he spoke. "You know, when you went inside…I didn't ever think that I'd be sat here. Opposite you."

"Me either."

There's a silence between you but you sense that there's more to be said so you leave it free, for him to fill if he wants.

"I beat up Kevin, you know." He nods firmly, not making eye contact. "I went in the club…I just…I wanted to be near you. It made me feel closer to you there, even though it was the last…" He sniffs and if you look close enough you can see the pain in his eyes. "Anyway, and there he was, skulking about in the dark. I just thought…what gives you the right…after everything he'd done to you…to us…" He looks at you then, eyes blackened by the memory. "I just lost it."

You nod. Part of you wants to scold him for being so stupid, the other part wants to thank him, for being so brave. Both parts want to take him in your arms and tell him how much you love him.

"I turned to drugs for a bit."

"You did what?" You can't help how it comes out. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

"No, right. Don't judge me. Don't you dare."

"I wasn't."

You were. A bit. Only because it's not the life you invisioned for him when you left him behind. You'd pictured him with his kids, Amy even, at the park with ice cream. Steven'd chatter his teeth because the cold gets right to him, Lucas would have brain freeze and Leah would laugh. Steven'd pick her up, squash her nose into his ice cream and Amy would watch on proudly.

"I only dealt at first. I wanted money to buy the club."

"Why?" You almost whisper, fearing you already know the answer.

"Why do you think, Brendan?" His eyes met yours with a flicker of nostalgia. "Anyway, I started dealing, for this bloke, Trevor."

"Trevor Royale?"

You're heart crushes as Steven nods. You know what an animal that man has been in the past. Ruthless to the core. "Yeah. I dealt with him for a bit, then with his big boss. He got killed in the end…"

"Did you ever take them? The drugs?" His silence speaks volumes.

"I don't anymore. Couldn't let me kids down again could I?"

"I didn't want that life for you."

"Well, you didn't get a choice did you?" It's back again. That bite to his tone. He composes himself and looks at his fingers in his lap. "If it hadn't had been for Doug…"

"Douglas. What a surprise." You can't keep the venom out of your voice. "Lend you a shoulder to cry on did he, when I got sent down?"

You see the steely resolve back in his eyes then. "Yeah. You know what, yeah he did. I was on the brink Brendan. I'd been through a lot of shit, right. And I'm not just talking about you. There were other stuff too. Stuff that I… I don't even have the energy to get into right and Doug were there for me. Every, single step of the way."

You feel the twitch in your cheek go off and you chew on your cheek as you laugh mirthlessly. "Did you fuck him, Steven?"

His eyebrows furrowed and you can feel the anger radiating off him as he stands up. "Who the hell do you think you are, eh?"

"It's a simple question Steven." You growl as you stand up with him, face to face, toe to toe. You raise your finger stiffly, jealousy ranging through your bones. "Did. You. Fuck. Him." You prod into his chest. Hard enough so that you can feel his heart beating. "Yes or no?"

"Yeah!" He screams, face red, eyes wide and daring. "Yeah I did. And not just once Brendan, right. In fact, I lost count of the times we fucked with you inside. I was gunna move away with him. Fresh start. Just me. And him."

The rage inside you loosens then and your puffed out chest retreats back like a wounded animal. A pain invades your chest like no other. He's finally done it. He's defeated you.

You gulp, pull out a few notes and throw them on the table for the bill. Then you look at him once more, take in all the features of him and you walk out of the door. Not once looking back at the shell of a man you'd left behind.

….

It was 3 days later when you heard his voice echo down the corridor towards your office.

"Look, just let me in, yeah."

"Boss don't like visitors."

"Yeah, I know he's not the most socialble type in the world, believe me." You feel your heart pound in your chest. After your little performance in the café, after he left you to walk away, tail between your legs you thought… "I just want to speak to him."

Yet here he is, again. Just like he always has been. You slowly begin to make your way to the door but then doubt seeps in your veins. What if this time he's not here to fight for you, what if he's here to tell you some more about his perfect life with the man you despise. The only other man that's ever had a piece of his heart. Salt in your perfectly opened wounds.

Your hands ball into fists as you hear him get thrown out. You close your eyes and all you can hear is his screams of Brendan…please, Brendan…

It's like you're back in that hospital bed all over again.

…..

You go straight to your computer, check the CCTV to check that he's alright, that he isn't hurt. You spot him and zoom in. His top's ruffled and cheeks are puffed out in rage but he's ok. He's ok. You angle the camera to follow him to the edge of the building, as he throws his back against the cold stone walls and buried his head in his hands.

Suddenly he looks up, right at you. You freeze, breath hitched in your chest and it's like he sees you. But then he shakes his head and is gone out of view.

….

For the next half an hour, you check the floors, check everyone's behaving themselves, having a good time, that sort of thing…anything to keep your mind busy. The women flirt, you smile back. One man seems to get it, get you and comes to ask if you're OK. What he's really saying is 'Are you not too messed up to fuck me?'. Your eyes scan his lips, plump and willing enough, will probably give you a decent blow job.

"What's your name?" He asks and you laugh.

"I ain't got one and I don't give a fuck if you've got one either." You can see that your honesty hasn't deterred him but rather blackened his eyes with lust. He'll do. You whisper that you'll be back in a minute and head back to your office to get yourself some dutch courage.

Except when you close your office door behind you, your heart leaps into your mouth. You gulp to lubricate your throat.

"Steven. What…How…"

He's perched on your table, legs crossed, arms folded defiantly. "Fire escape. Knew that wouldn't be locked. You always did like a quick escape didn't you?"

You can hear the undertones and bitterness in his words. "Don't need one no more."

"No?"

You reach for your tumblr of whiskey. "No."

"Right. Funny that cause you were quick enough to escape the other night weren't you?"

You let the liquid sting your throat as you make your way to your chair.. "Is there a reason for this impromptu visit Steven, or…"

"Yeah." He stands up from your table and turns around, his face a picture of honesty and serenity. "I just…I want to say sorry, for the other night."

"I told you Steven, you don't ever have to apologise. Not to me."

"I do though. I know how much you hate Doug, I didn't need to rub it in."

You bow your head, accepting his unnecessary apology. You swill your whiskey around its glass and ask your next question, not sure if you want to know the answer. "Where is he anyway? Saint Douglas?"

Steven's eyes widen and his mouth parts. It instantly worries you. "Steven?"

"I just presumed Cheryl had told you."

"Told me what?"

"Just before we were meant to…" Start a new life together, you silently fill. "Y'know…there was an explosion. At the flat. He's…He's dead Brendan."

Your heart sinks. Not because you'll miss him, because you won't. But you never really hated him. You hated yourself. For not being the man Steven deserved. The thought of Steven having his heart broken, going through all of that, burying his husband makes your blood run cold.

Without thinking you put your drink down, go over to where he's stood and gather him in your arms. His body melts into yours and you hold him tighter, breathing him in. "I'm sorry." You can feel him sobbing into your chest, his head bouncing up and down as he wraps his arms tighter around you. "I'm so sorry Steven."

You tilt his chin up with your thumb and forefinger, taking a step away from him. "Hey, look at me. He knew he was loved didn't he? He had you and the kids. And he knew he was loved. If I had that, I'd die a happy man." You neglect to mention that you already tried that one. You hope he won't mention it either.

He tears himself from you, his eyes red and bloody shot. "But that's just the thing though, isn't it Brendan? I don't know if he did." He wipes the snot away from his nose with his sleeve. "Before he died, he said something to me. He said that he knew that if there were 2 doors, one with you behind and one with him behind, he knew I'd choose you Brendan.'"

You want to ask if it's true, if he would. But you know that's not important right now. Not anymore. Just then you're interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Sorry boss," Ryan says apologetically. "But there's a lad out here reckons that you said if you weren't back in a minute he should come and find you."

Shit. The lad, the…Jesus, you can't even remember what colour his hair is, not now that Steven's here. Because this man in front of you, he's everything. He's all that matters anymore. And you can see him putting two and two together.

"Yeah, just. Tell him I've thought about the offer but it's not for me."

"Sure thing."

You watch as Ryan closes the door and then flip your head back around to see Steven, his head shaking from side to side. "Unbelievable." He says as he picks up his coat from your chair. "I must be a grade A mug."

Your head is shaking manically, arms outsteretched. "Steven, no, wait."

"Get out of me way Brendan." He says as he stands in front of you. You the only barrier between him and the door. "Or at least let me get out of yours, let you get back to your toyboy."

"He's nothing Steven. I don't…Jesus, I don't even know his name. Can't even remember what he looks like."

"Yeah well I'm sure he remembers you." He steps to get past but you don't let him, you're desperate. You can't let him leave you. Not again. "Oh great, you guna add kidnapping to your list now."

Your lunge forwards and capture his lips with yours, take his lip between your teeth, hands holding the side of his face tightly. You pull away, gently, looking him directly in the eyes, hoping that he sees this is you. This is all you've got. His lip quivers.

"I hate you." He whispers, his voice trembling.

"I love you." You whisper back, taking his head in your hands and closing the gap once more. "I've never stopped, I promise."

He can feel his body trembling as your chest presses into his. You've been in hospital more times than you care to remember but your life has never hung in the balance more than this moment, right now.

Suddenly, you feel the hard pressure of his lips against yours, his tongue fighting it's way into your mouth. You groan simultaneously and push him backwards, only separating for breath when his back hits the wooden desk. Your pelvis automatically pushes into him, the growing hardness in your trousers pressing into him, playing with him.

"Fuck me." He says filthily into your ears. "I want you to fuck me."

His hands go around your back and down to your arse, pushing yourself into him once again. You can feel him through his tracksuit and you can't wait anymore to get your hands on him. You bite on his lips and suck his tongue once more before dropping to your knees, taking his underwear with you. You look up at him through hooded eyes, his erection standing proudly in your face. You kiss the tip, all the while looking up at him. His eyes darkened with lust.

"Tell me what you want, Steven."

"Lick it." He says, brazen and full of confidence. "From root to tip."

And you do. Taste his pre-come and swallow him down hole so that you name plays on his lips. His eyes shut and you push a finger in his mouth, getting him to get it wet so that you can slide it into his hole as you noisily suck his dick, savouring every bump and taste. He gets louder when you insert a second finger, loosening him up.

"Fuck, Brendan…God. Fuck me. I'm ready, please… just…"

You pop him out of your mouth and stand up, taking his head in your hands and you kiss him and he kisses you back, like your life depends on it. You reach for your wallet and take out a condom and you tear off the wrapper as he hastily tears off your shirt. He stops for a moment and you watch him, allowing him to take in your new more defined muscles. His lustful eyes look back to you for a moment and you brush a finger against his lips.

"You sure this is what you want Steven?"

He gulps and nods, his eyes wide, like he can't believe this is really happening. "Yeah." He breathes.

You nod and let him undo your trousers so that you can put the rubber on. He gets up from the desk and turns over. You slack up two fingers and slowly insert them again, feeling the vibrations of his approval against your hand that rests on his back.

You lean forwards, kissing the back of his neck, licking every single faint hair that's there. "You like that?" You whisper in his ear and he hums his approval. You smile silently and bite down on his shoulder, when you replace your fingers with your cock. You ease in the tip and feel him shift beneath you, trying to get comfortable. He feels tight and your frightened that you're hurting him when he reminds you of one of the reasons you love him. He's stronger than he looks, your boy…man.

"More." He says. "I can take it."

You don't argue, just take your body weight off him and thrust in deeper until eventually, he's engulfed you. Your tip hits his prostate as you rock steadily back and forwards, your mind going to places that you'd only dreamt of inside.

"Harder."

"Yeah?" You growl starting to rock quicker and firmer. "Think you can handle that, do ye boy?"

He nods so you use his shoulders as leaverage and pound into him with big long thrusts. Your senses are going into overdrive and he begins to scream your name. "Fuck…Brendan…fuck!"

"You like that? You love my cock inside you?"

"Yeah." He breathes.

"Tell me."

"I love it. I love cock."

"My cock."

"I love your cock….fuck…harder Bren…fuck."

You come first and then wrap a hand around him and fist him twice before his spills all over you. Leaning down on his back as he sprawls himself over your desk. You wish you could stay like this forever but can feel him shift uncomfortably beneath you so you kiss his shoulder gently and step back from him.

You turn around to sort yourself out, tieing up the condom and discarding it in the bin. When you turn back around, he's half dressed and handing you your clothes. The smile that was on your face disappears slightly as you take them. "You Ok Steven?"

He nods and smiles a smile which doesn't meet his eyes. You nod sharply back and button up your shirt, watching as he zips up his jacket. You stare at eachother for what seems like an age and you watch carefully as his adams apple bobs up and down slowly. You step forward, only for him to dodge around you.

"You sure you're Ok Steven?"

"Yeah…I just, I should really get going."

"Wait." You grab his arm as he reaches for the door. "Please, just…stay." You can see the conflict in his eyes and, you can barely blame him but, you need this. You need him. "For a drink. Just a drink."

Your hands weaken around his arm when he looks down at it. It drops down by your side with a thud.

"I'm sorry Brendan." He says and he looks genuinely sad. "I can't. I'm sorry."

You can't watch as he leaves.

….

Your eyes flicker open as the sun peaks through the curtains, memories after Steven left one big blur. Your strain your neck to get a look at the time and a realise that you're already late for delivery of lager you've got coming in. You groan, step over the empty bottle of Jamesons which you polished off last night and climb into your en-suite shower.

As you let the water cascade over your body you can't help but feel sad. Feel like you're washing Steven off you. You get flashbacks from the club after he left. Flashbacks of when you went straight to the bar, looking for that lad to take your mind off things but you couldn't even remember what he looked like. All you could see was Steven. All you can still see and think about is him.

As you step out of the shower, your mind is made up. You phone one of your older members of staff and tell them that they'll have to sort out the delivery and stock take on their own. Then you get in the car and head to Steven's.

….

Your heart is hammering as you pound on the door. You don't know what Steven you're going to get on the other side. Will it be the one who was kissing you, pulling your hair, screaming your name, showing you that he loved you, even if he didn't say it? Or would it be the one who hated you? Who's eyes, and words did everything to show you.

"Can I help you mate?"

You'd been looking back towards the road when you heard this strange voice. You turn around, brain puzzled as this stranger, tall, dark hair, muscular build answers the door. Steven's door.

"I, er…Steven…I'm…is Steven here?" You take a step back and look at the number, then look at the steps that you were sat on less than a week ago.

"No he's at work." The dark, handsome stranger replied. You hated him already. "Maybe I can help you?"

"Doubt that." You respond dryly, before turning around.

"Well, Ste is my boyfriend and he's not told me anything about any visitors…"

Boyfriend. Steven. Steven's boyfriend. The words ring in your ears as your breathing speeds up. You turn around, begin making your way down the stairs, your vision blurred as you do so. Then, a hand on your shoulder snaps you out of it.

"Here, I said what's your name?"

"Brendan." You say because your mind is quick enough to think of a fake one.

"Brendan? As in Brady? Brendan Brady?"

Your chest falls up and down heavily, the tone in the strangers voice suddenly changing. You nod. Then walk back to your car as quickly as your legs will carry you.

….

Nothing's ever gonna change and I'm never gonna feel any differently about you.

I'm never going to feel any differently about you either, I promise you, Okay?

I love you. Forever.

"Earth to Brendan…"

You role your eyes and push yourself up from the chair in your office. "What is it Terry?"

"I'm off now."

"And?"

"And?" The boy spits back. "What about thanks? I mean, I've practically run the place since you're disappearing act this morning!"

"What?" You're standing up now, chair thrown back against the wall. Boy pushed up against the opposite one with your elbow. "I run this place, Terrance. Me. Brendan. Not you. Not no-one else. It's mine." You push your arm further against his adams apple as he struggles for breath. "No one is gonna take this away from me. You got that?"

You can hear his feet scuffling along the floor as he nods manically. "So—Sorry—Brendan." He chokes out.

You inhale and release him with a smile. "That's OK." You put your hand in the inside of your jacket, pulling out a twenty. "Here. Take tomorrow off. Treat that little lady of yours."

He stares straight ahead, unsure about whether to take it or not. Or whether it was a test. You push the money into his hands. "Ok? Ok."

Your feet shuffle along the gravel path that leads up to your house, kicking stray stones along the way. You've almost sobered up by the end of the night but decided to leave your car and stroll back anyway. After your encounter with Terry, you told everyone to leave, spent the rest of the evening closing up yourself, well, yourself and the man in black.

You rustle in your pockets for your keys when you see a person and what looks like 2 large black bags sat on your doorstep. As you get closer, your breath catches in your throat. You'd recognise those cheekbones anywhere.

"Steven…what the…How did you…" So many questions swirl around in your head, but as he stands up and brushes himself down, he doesn't give you the chance to finish one of them.

"Cheryl. See your not the only one that can use her to get what you want Brendan." He looks at you with steely eyes, his stance defiant. "So, you gonna let me come in then or what?"

Your taking his tumblr of whiskey over to him, using all of your power not to shake, not to show any form of weakness. Not in front of him. Not anymore. You place it down in front of him but he just looks at it.

"No?" You say, as you take a sip of yours. "More for me then." You say as you tip the remaining liquid into your glass.

You watch him. And wait. And wait some more, willing him to say something. You used to be good at this, the silent thing. The waiting game. But not so much when it comes to him. "What can I do for you Steven?"

His stare is still defiant. Jaw set like he's set in fight mode but if you look close enough, you can see the redness in his eyes. He looks like he's been crying.

"I believe you paid a visit to my house." He says, prompting you to sit back. How could you forget. The boyfriend. "Well, what was my house." He adds. "You see Brendan, when I was sat on your doorstep for the past 3 hours, I had a lot of time to think. I was racking me brains and wondering what it is that makes you tick. And then I remembered…" He spits bitterly, taking the whiskey from your hand and taking a large gulp. "It's doing everything in your power to ruin my life isn't it?"

"Steven, I…"

"No. No don't speak. I'm not finished yet." He spits bitterly. "You see, first you beat me up, then make me fall in love with you, only to leave me as soon as the going got tough and then…And this is the best bit…You walk back into my life as soon as I'd finally got settled, as soon as I finally felt happy…properly happy, and tell my boyfriend that I'd slept with you!"

You grind your teeth and count to ten. He's hurt, you can see that. And hurting others is the best form of defence. You should know. You watch his bottom lip quiver, with anger, sadness…you're not sure. "Finished?"

"Finished?" He replies, standing up. "Are you for fucking real Brendan?! Do you even care what's just happened to me? I've just been kicked out! He's kicked me out! All because you couldn't keep your mouth shut!"

Your leg bounces up and down. "Sit down Steven."

"You fuc-"

"I said sit. down." You grind out slowly and forcefully. And after a few seconds of pouting, he does. "First, thanks for that character assassination just there. Nice to know what you really think of me." You smile despondently and the flicker of sadness in his eyes doesn't go unnoticed. "Secondly, I did go to your house. To see you after, and correct me if I'm wrong but we did sleep together?" When he looks at the floor you stand up. "Except, imagine my surprise when I'm met with your boyfriend. In fact, I was so surprised that all I could muster was my name before I left again."

You watch as Steven's eyes shoot from side to side. "But he said that…"

"I've just told you what I said Steven." You say, this time softer because despite everything, this man in front of you is hurting. And you still want to take it all away. "I wouldn't do that, OK? I'm not that…I wouldn't do it to you."

You sit back in your chair and watch Steven do the same. "I'm sorry." He says quietly, the angry Steven from moments earlier gone entirely. "I didn't…it's just he said that…and…I'm sorry."

"Hey," You whisper and click you fingers in front of his face to look at you, not able to touch him just yet. The memories still too painful. "What've I told you about apologising to me? Don't. Please."

He looks at you like he's contemplating something, then rubs his face with his hands. "God this is a mess. Why do I always fuck things up?"

"You're talking to the master fuck up here Steven. You ain't getting no sympathy from me." He manages a smile and it makes you feel like you can fly. You both sit in silence for a moment before once again, it's you that breaks it.

"He make you happy? This…boyfriend of yours?" You choke out and Steven nods, almost apologetically. "You gonna…" Your knee bounces manically under the table. "You gonna go speak to him? Talk him round?"

He looks up at you, quickly, his eyes shining with confusion. "Is…is that what you think I should do?"

You force out a laugh. "I think you should do whatever is going to make you happy. And if it's him, then…" You can't finish the rest of the sentence.

"And what about you?"

"Me?" You ask, eyes clouding over. "You don't need to worry about me, Steven."

"I do though. I want you to be happy Bren."

You huff a smile and finally look into his eyes. You don't think you can love him any more. He still doesn't get it, he doesn't get that his happiness is all that matters. You stand up and make your way over to the fridge. You need a change of subject. "Got left over Pizza, if you want any?"

"Nah, I better start ringing some B n B's."

"And how long you gonna be able to afford staying in those for?"

"Duno. A week or so?"

"There's more than enough room here Steven."

"What?"

"Stay here. As long as you need."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah." You can see the cogs turning.

"But won't that be a bit…"

"Jesus Steven, what d'ye think I'm going to do? Jump on you everytime you're near me? Even you're not that irristable mate." He raises a smile and it makes you smile too. You throw a tea towel in his direction. "But you're gona have to earn your keep boy. Those plates need washing. I'll go and make up your bed."

….

You didn't sleep well, at all. Everytime you closed your eyes all you could see and hear was him. The person in the room opposite yours. The person who you wanted in your arms more than anything.

You get up, avoiding looking through the small gap in the door opposite as you leave your room. He always did leave the door slightly ajar. Said he did it for the kids, so that he could hear them breathe and would always know if they needed him. You wonder why he left it open last night… If he thought about you, and the nightmares he knew that you used to have.

You go for your morning run and come back to the smell of sizzling bacon. "Something smells good."

"Yeah well it should. I've been slaving over it, getting it just how you like it."

"Oh yeah?" You smile, eyebrows raised as you close in behind him, lower your voice so your growling in his ear. "Remind me Steven. Just how do I like it?"

Even though you aren't quite touching him, you feel his body stiffen beneath you. "Don't." He whispers, prompting you to step back.

"I wasn't. I…"

"Yeah you were Brendan. This," He points between the newly created gap between you. "This is just temporary, right? This isn't me and you getting back together."

"I know Steven, Jesus." You say up to the ceiling.

"Do you though?"

"Yeah. Yeah I think the room separating us last night and the fact that you're going to spend the day trying to win back your fucking boyfriend is more than enough of a clue." You storm past him through to the bathroom.

"Wait…what about your breakfast?"

"Lost my appetite!"

…..

You're behind the bar at the club. You enjoy working the lunchtime shift. You don't really do a lot as it never really gets busy so you stand there, survey, assess. You're changing one of the optics when you here the bar stool scrape along the floor.

"Be with you in a sec ma-" But through the corner of your eye you see him. "Steven?"

"Beer please." He says, tracksuit zipped up to the corner of his mouth.

"How did it go today?" You ask, even though you don't want to know the answer.

"Good. In fact better than good. Said I should go round tonight."

You grind your teeth, and exhale slowly. You pour him the beer. "£3.60."

He points to the sign behind you. "It says it's happy hour. 2 for the price of 1."

You look at his lips. Imagine them wrapped around another mans. "Members only."

He narrows his eyebrows. Knows how generous you've been with him in the past. "Oh come on Brendan. You know how skint I am. I've only got a tenner."

"Yeah well there's plenty of other boozers that'll take your money." You say bitterly, hating yourself but wanting to hurt him. Wanting him to feel something.

"Why are you being like this?"

"Why are you even here, huh, Steven? Because, I might not have a Geography O level but I'm pretty sure this place is well out your way."

"I just wanted to…No." You see the hurt in his eyes flicker to anger. "You know what, forget it. Stick your drink and stick your flat. I won't be needing it by the end of the night anyway."

"Fine!"

"Fine!" He yells over his shoulder as he storms out of the door.

As he leaves you throw his pint down the sink and kick over his stool. You glare at someone in the bar to challenge you over it before storming into your office and slamming the door behind you.

….

It's midnight by the time you arrive back at the flat, despite the fact that you could have left at about tea time. Tuesday's never were a busy night. You close the door quietly behind you, notice two black bin bags tied tightly by the door. You let out a breath, of relief, of despair, you're not sure. All you know is that it means he's not gone yet. He hasn't left you.

You walk through the kitchen and see his back slumped over the breakfast bar. A tumblr glass and a half drank bottle of whiskey in his hands.

"Thought you'd be gone by now." You say and you close your eyes didn't mean it to come out so harshly. Like you wanted him gone.

"Yeah well I'll get out of your way in a sec." He slurs slightly.

"Thought you'd open a bottle of my finest first though, yeah?"

"I'll get you a new one. Two. If it makes you happy."

He still hasn't looked at you and you're still unsure about whether to approach him. You don't want to scare him away, despite all of your instincts telling you to. "I'm surprised you've got time for that… thought you'd have a lot of…" You crick your neck and grit your teeth. "…making up…to do."

He turns to look at you then and you can see his eyes are red and glisten with tears in the low light of the kitchen. He stands up, necking the final slurps of whiskey. "Is that what you want, eh? You want me to be fucking his brains out right now?" Your lips tighten as he comes towards you, toe to toe. "You want me to ride him until he's seeing stars? Telling him how much I love him? How much I love fucking him?"

Your heart's hammering in your chest, you want to look away but he won't let you, his eyes have got you pinned. You're half way between wanting to kiss him and kill him.

"You do what you gotta do Steven." You say coldly and finally, he backs down. Like he's been defeated.

He shakes his head and storms towards the door and you can't help but follow him. "Say hi to that fella of yours won't ye?" You spit, wanting to twist the knife in as much as you can. Hurt him, like he's hurt you. He ignores you and collects his bags and it hurts more. Frustrates you. Brings out the devil in you. "Ask him what it's like to have someone's sloppy seconds."

You watch him still in his movements, and he turns to look at you. The disappointment in his face is clear and it kills you. Your mouth opens to speak. Tell him that you're sorry, and that you love him. But you can't get the words out fast enough. The door slams shut behind him.

You hurt those you love, and it's a way of hurting yourself.

You don't know how you got here. Or why you're here but regardless, you are. It's been a week since Steven left you and you've done nothing but torture yourself over the night he left. You want to make things right but know you don't have the right anymore. It's the second time you've been here.

The first time you came, you didn't see much movement. Just that boyfriend of his closing the curtains upstairs, the bedroom, you'd deduced. The bile rose in your throat and you drove away. This time you're determined to stick it out. See him, maybe them. And see that he's happy. And if he is, maybe, finally, you'll be able to sleep at night again.

You drum your fingers on the dashboard of your car. You've been here for an hour now and you're due in work in another hour. You hum along to some Frank Sinatra on Radio 2 when suddenly, you're interest is peaked as a young man walks towards Steven's house and knocks on the door. He's all done up, shirt unbuttoned slightly, hair styled neatly…

The boyfriend answers the door and you want to look away but luckily, something keeps you watching, particularly when the boyfriend pulls this lad into a long, lingering kiss.

You can't get out of the car quick enough.

"Hey!" You yell as you cross the road and run up the steps towards the house. "You!"

The boyfriend rolls his eyes while the lad stands meakly behind him.

"You never did introduce youself properly…." You click in his face.

"Mikey."

"Michael." You correct. Then turn your attention to the other guy. "And you are…"

"Non of your business." Michael interrupts.

You tilt your head, assess him. Look back to Michael."And I take it Steven knows about…non of your business does he?"

Micheal wrinkles his nose. "No, why should he?"

"Why should he?" You smile. He really doesn't know who he's dealing with. Like a shot, you push him up against the framework of the door. He struggles, does Michael. He's strong. Not as strong as you though. Particularly not as strong as you when you're fuelled on hate and anger and longing and love. "You do know what I was inside for, yeah, Michael?"

He's starting to look a bit less sure of himself now. Your face is close to his, sniffing him, scaring him. "Where is he? Steven?"

"Look, I don't know right."

You push him further into the door. Knee him in the crotch, knocking the wind from him while his bit on the side looks pathetically on. "Don't lie to me, Michael. I know he moved back in last week."

"No…" He panted, breathlessly. "He came round to sort things but we didn't."

"Wha'?" You loosen your grip slightly as you try to process the new information.

"I asked him to tell me that he didn't love you anymore. And he couldn't. He wouldn't."

You huff out a breath and step backwards. He… Steven still loves you. "Where is he?"

"Duno…some BnB."

You step forward meanicngly again. "You're going to have to be more specific, Michael!"

"I don't know!" He yelled. "He said something about Treetops. It's on Marlborough road. I don't know if he got it though. Said he might have somewhere else to stay. Said he'd been staying with a mate and he might stay there a bit longer."

"Ok." You nod. "Ok. You two…as you were."

And with that you left, straight to Marlborough road.

…..

It didn't take long for you to convince the young girl on reception to let you in. You convinced her that you were an item with a picture in your wallet. "See," You said, "That's us and the kids. He thinks I'm not back until next week, I just want to surprise him."

She smiled, sweetly. A sucker for a good love story. "You look happy there." She said, nodding to the picture. You looked at it again, slightly faded around the edges. You smiled.

"Yeah, the happiest years of my life." You sniff back the nostalgia and get back on task. "So, you gonna let me go on through then?"

And that's how you got here. In this dimly lit room. In this dimly lit Bed and Breakfast. The bed unmade, Steven's black blags unpacked. Empty pizza boxes stacked up. Bottles of beer strewn carelessly.

Then you notice the bible on the desk. And then the thing that glistened on top of it. A celtic cross. Your cross. You run it through your fingers, thinking back to a time when you thought you were going to lose him. Properly. Because you know as long as he's breathing, he's still yours, in spite of everything. And your still his. You always have been.

"What are you doing here?"

You didn't even hear the door open.

"Steven…"

"Get out Brendan."

You stand and shake your head. "No. No I'm not going any where, not without you."

"You've got no right."

"Why didn't you just tell me Steven?"

He folds his arms, still stood by the door. "Tell you what?"

That you still love me. "That you weren't going back to him."

You try to make eye contact but he won't have it. Instead he folds his arms and looks out of the small window opposite. "I thought you wanted me to leave. Say hi to him and all that."

You gulp, cursing yourself for your words. You stand up and go to him but he steps back and shakes his head simply. It's enough.

"He told me what you said. Michael. Well, more like what you didn't say."

He glances at you quickly, then back out of the window. "Don't know what you're on about."

You step forward now, with or without his permission. You take his face in your hands and you can feel him trembling. Not with fear, no, fear you can smell from a distance. He shakes with wondering, nerves…longing. "Steven I love you. More than I can possibly explain." You press your foreheads together. Your head and heart willing him to hear you. Really, hear you. "Please just, don't give up on us. Not yet."

"I can't…Brendan…I…"

"Please," You breathe out, ghosting your lips with his. "Please just…"

You see a cystal tear roll down his cheek. You kiss it before it falls. "I love you so much Brendan."

You breath out a shaky smile. "I love you." You whisper, barely audible. Then repeat it. "I love you."

He places his hands on top of yours and squeezes them, pushing them gently as he steps away. You feel like he's tore a limb from you. "That's why I can't do this, not again."

"What?" your head is shaking from side to side. You can't be hearing this. "Steven…"

He sniffs up through his nostrils. Like he's mustering every bit of strength he's got left. "I remember what it's like to lose you. And I can't go through that again."

"You won't. I promise, you won't." You reach out to him again but he bats you away.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Brendan." You study him, can see his lip trembling, fighting with himself not to cry. Then your vision becomes blurred and you realise you're fighting the same fight along side him. "I'm sorry, Bren. I am."

You sniff up your emotion and stiffen your body. After everything you've put this boy through, you're lucky to even be allowed in the same room as him. You nod. "Ok." You go to step past him but something stops you. You hover by his side. "Just know, that you don't have to stay here, OK? You've always got a home while I'm around." You dip your head. "Spare room's still made up."

Then, finally, you leave.

It's been 2 weeks since your meeting with Steven. 2 weeks of empty whiskey bottles, empty sex, an emptier existence. Cheryl's wanted to come and visit a couple of times, check that you were OK (not that you'd told her about anything to do with you and Steven, how close you were to getting him back) but you said you weren't up to visitors. Truth be told, the spare room still smelt like him. And you weren't ready to let him go just yet.

You flick through some of your paperwork, choosing to do it at home rather than the club. Some no mark from last week keeps pestering you for round two and he's not getting the hint. No one gets inside these walls anymore.

Suddenly, you hear a knock at the door and check the time. You're phone's been on the blink recently and you sigh loudly. Another 'emergency' at the club no doubt. This happened a couple of nights ago too.

You put your coffee down and head towards the door and when you pull it back and see two bulging black bags by some skinny ankles. Steven's skinny ankles. He stands before you with a nervous disposition, playing with his fingers in front of him. He can barely look at you but you can't stop looking at him. He's beautiful.

"If…if the offer still stands-"

"Kettle's just boiled." You say simply, cutting him off. Don't need to know why he's here. Why he didn't come sooner. He's here. And that's all that matters.

He nods, gives you s mall smile and steps cautiously past you. Finally, you feel like you can breathe again.

…..

It's been an hour since Steven's been here. Neither of you have said much, Steven has been getting himself aquianted with his new room for most of it. Unpacking his things. Making himself at home, you hope.

He comes out and is unsure about where to sit. You have one sofa and one chair. You've sat yourself in the middle of the sofa, become somewhat of a habit and you're about to move up but Steven opts for the single chair anyway.

"So you still watch your old people films then." He quips, breaking the silence. He never could cope with silence, that boy.

"I think the word you're looking for is 'classic', Steven. But I don't expect you to appreciate that."

"Oi, I do appreciate the classics." He retorts, growing in confidence. "Went out with you din't I?"

You raise an eyebrow and watch Steven retreat back into himself.

"Listen, Brendan, if this is too weird…"

"It's OK."

"Nah, I mean seriously. If this ever gets, y'know. And you want me to move out…"

"You can stay here as long as you like, Steven."

You look at him, let him know that you mean it and it seems to be enough. He gives you a small smile and looks back to the TV.

You both watch the rest of the film in silence.

…..

The first few weeks you barely see eachother, your shift patterns for the week obviously not agreeing. It was probably for the best though, you thought. Give Steven a chance to settle in without you breathing down his neck. And him breathing down yours.

When you do see him, he's constantly jotting things down, tongue stuck out in concentration. One day you ask him what he's doing. He counts on his fingers, shakes his head then gets his phone out.

"Just working money stuff out."

"Money stuff?"

"Yeah." He nods. "It's just not adding up though Brendan. I mean, how am I supposed to pay me child maintenance, work so many hours that I can't claim owt – not that I want to…" He adds hastily, and you nod. Always has been a hard worker. "And save up enough money for a deposit for somewhere."

"Steven, I've told you-"

"Yeah I know you're not gonna kick me out Brendan but…I want to at least contribute."

"You do." You nod firmly. "You do the cooking and most of the cleaning." You chuckled the first night, when he left you a small note telling you your meal was in the microwave. Like you didn't exist before him. In some ways, you guess you didn't.

"Yeah I don't want to be some housewife, Brendan." He says quickly, throwing his pen down on the table. "I just want to stand on me own two feet, like I've had to do all my life."

You sigh and move closer to him, feel his body stiffen straight away. He keeps eye contact with you while you reach past him for the piece of paper and look it over. He's done all the costing right and he's right, you can't see how he can live like this.

"Jesus Steven, this all they paying you?" He nods sheepishly. They're paying him a pittance and working him like a dog.

"All they can afford, Nick said."

"And, you're the head chef yeah? That's what your contract says?" Unbelievable.

"Well not exactly, no."

You arch your eyebrows at him, wave your fingers in front of his face, asking to elaborate. "Not exactly?" He's nervous. Can see it in his every pore as his fingers play with his sleeves. You put your hand on top of his shoulder. The contact making him shiver. "Steven, I'm on your side here."

He nods. "Well when the last head chef left, I got a promotion. I mean, I practically run the place anyway so they couldn't not really. But then, Nick said they couldn't afford to give me much more because if he did there'd be no restaurant to work at." He shrugs his shoulders. "I just thought, well what other choice did I have? Either get paid a bit more and work or be out of a job and have no income at all."

You sigh and nod your head. You can see where the boy's coming from but something within you doesn't trust this Nick. Makes you think he's treating Steven like a mug. "This….Nicolas, he a reasonable guy yeah?"

"Yeah, kinda."

"Kinda or…"

"Yeah, yeah he is."

You nod. Give him back the piece of paper. "Then speak to him. Tell him you can't afford to live. Tell him you need a payrise or y'know."

"Or what?"

"Or you'll have to start looking elsewhere. If he values you enough, he'll say yes." You stand, straighten your shirt and make your way to the door, ready for a full night at the club.

"What if he says no?" Steven strangles out behind you, a nervous click in his throat.

"Then you got your answer." You can see him nodding but the confidence is waring, if not gone. He's looking straight ahead of him, managed to somehow shrink his shoulders to make himself look even smaller, even more vulnerable. "He tasted your lasagne yeah?"

Steven wipes his nose with his sleeve and nods.

"Then you got nothing to worry about."

You leave him with a smile.

….

You don't see Steven the next day. Or the day after. You were hoping to, wanted to see how it went with Nicholas. If he'd kept the belief that you'd tried to instil in his before you left. You're Sat in you're your office and check the time, it's 11pm and you'll do the rounds soon. But for now, you're going to stay in your office, with your feet up, eyes rested, listening to Johnny Cash.

As soon as you start to feel yourself get into the music, into the only zone that you can get peace…

I hear the train a'coming,

It's rolling round the bend,

I ain't seen the sunshine,

Since-

There's a loud knock at the door.

You groan loudly, rocking back in your chair.

"Yes?"

"Just me boss." David one of the doorman says as he peers around the door. "Got a young man who wants to come on through."

"A young man, eh?" You smirk, then shake your head. "Ain't interested."

"Sorry boss, I forgot his name but I've seen him before. He's, y'know, your lad."

"My lad…" You start, racking your brains. You're sure Deccy's off at University. And then you hear him.

"Listen mate, are you gonna let me through or what? Tell him I'm not waiting all day for him!"

"Steven!" You say, jumping up out of your seat and you notice David smile as you give yourself the once over in the mirror. "Well don't just stand there like an eejit, let him through."

"Yes boss."

Steven walks in, predictably in his tracksuit, gives David the once over and plonks himself down on the sofa. He gives you a soft smile and it melts you. That's when you notice David is still stood there, looking gormlessly at the two of you.

"Is there anything else or are you going to actually do what I'm paying you for?"

David gives you a final nod of the head before leaving you and Steven together. Steven has this big grin on his face that he's worn since he stepped through the door. It automatically puts a smile on your face and you can't help looking at him, just watching him. you can see your attention is getting the better of him though as he begins to blush red and turn slightly away.

"What's the smile for?" Then you remember what day it is. "In fact, what you even doing here Steven, I thought you were working tonight."

"I was." He nods confidently. "But I'm not now."

"No," You say, joining him on the sofa, "I can see that. So what can I do you for."

"I did it Bren."

"Did what?"

"I spoke to Nick, when you told me to. And, I didn't want to say owt in case, but anyway, it's as good as done now and…I did it Bren. I did it!"

"Woah, boy. Slow down." You say, hands on his shoulders. "Start from the beginning."

"I told Nick that I couldn't work for him anymore. Not if he weren't going to pay me more. And he said that he'd just bought a new restaurant. And that he'd been watching me for a while. And that he wants me to run it." He's smiling from ear to ear. "I'm going to be in charge of a restaurant, Brendan. Food, staffing, cooking, waiting…everything! And I'm going to get an annual wage. More than I've ever been on in my life!"

Your smile falls slightly. More than he's ever been paid in his life? Does that mean that he'll be soon out of yours again?

"Anyway, I didn't know what to do but I had to tell someone so I came straight over here!" His eyes must have clocked yours because his smile is falling to now. You hate yourself for being the reason for it. "Well, say something then?"

What is there to say? Don't do it? Don't leave me? Instead you settle on something else, pushing your selfishness to the side. "I'm proud of you Steven."

You watch him blush slightly under your gaze so you stand up. "I'll go get the champagne. Don't go anywhere."

….

It was late by the time you got back last night. You finished off a couple of bottles of champagne with Steven, the bubbles going straight to his head. He went home shortly after. You ordered him a taxi and bundled him into the back of it. You remember Steven's eyes being glazed over as he leant on your shoulder as you helped him walk.

"My tongue feels all fuzzy Brendan…" He said as he allowed it to peak out of his mouth. "Look. Can you see the bubbles?"

You did everything in your power not to look, kept your eyes focused on the job in hand of getting him down the stairs because you knew if you didn't, you'd be sucking those bubbles right from his tongue.

Finally you managed to get him in the taxi and you remembering him looking up at you, all doey eyed and suddenly serious. "I did good din'I Bren? I mean, everything's going to be alright now innit?"

You managed a small smile as you allowed yourself to reach out for him, holding his chin steady. "You did grand Steven. Now don't forget to text me when you get back, yeah?"

"I will." He smiled, eyes already closing. "See you at yours….I mean mine…. I mean home, Bren."

In that moment your heart stopped beating. "Yeah. See you at home Steven."

You wake up the next day to the sound of a sizzling pan. You look quickly at the time, it's 1 O'clock. You've massively overslept, normally waking up at about half 10 after Steven shuts the door on his way to work. You remember that your sleep was broken last night though.

When you came back, Steven was passed out of the sofa. You spent a few minutes trying to gently wake him but instead settled for taking off his shoes and socks and covering him with a spare blanket. Finally, one of Cheryl's good habits finally rubbing off on you. You watched him sleep for a few moments, noticed he'd helped himself to your whiskey too, the cheeky little fecker. You couldn't stay mad though, not as you watched the rise and fall of his chest and the flicker of his bambi like eyelashes in the soft moonlight. You swear you could have counted them there and then.

Shortly after you went to sleep, you were woken by a nightmare. It's one that you've had before. It's got Walker and Cheryl and Seamus and Steven….always Steven. And this time, you can't save them. No one can. After washing your face in the basin with cold water, you checked on Steven again. He'd barely moved, always did sleep like an angel that boy. Finally, with the image of him in your mind, you slept again. Only this time, you heard footsteps creak on the wooden flooring and stop by your door. You saw a shadow block out the light from the bathroom that you'd left on, should Steven need it in the night. You heard a whisper of 'I miss you'. It sounded like him. You must have been dreaming.

So, it's no surprise really that you're late waking up and your mind immediately goes to all the things you need to do at the club today. Stock take, deliveries, new promotions… It is a surprise though, that Steven is still here. He's normally out the door and setting up in the restaurant by now. You stretch and throw on some shorts and a t-shirt and make your way through to the kitchen. It feels strange seeing Steven 2 days in a row. In all the time that he's been living here, you're paths have barely crossed and you main method of communication has been via text. Mundane, boring, every day problems. It was safe…extremely safe.

"Ah good, you're up!" Steven smiles as he spinkles whatever was in his pan onto the plate of pasta. "Didn't wanna wake you. Didn't know what time you got back last night, did I?" He's fussing over some green stuff now, still hasn't looked at you. He stops what he's doing for a second, places his hands by the side of the plate, like he's holding himself up. "Thanks, by the way. For you know…"

He's referring to last night, you think. You can see his cheeks colouring slightly so you nod. "S'Ok."

"Right," He's got a skip in his step again. "Sit down. Made you some lunch."

He passes you a small plate of pasta and in his best Italian accent beams "Linguine Carbonara. Enjoy."

You look at it then him. "What? Is this Thumbelina's? Where's the rest of it?"

He tuts and rolls his eyes. "There's more to come in a bit. Truth is I've been given the day off to practice recipes for the new restaurant and you are my official taster."

"Am I now?"

"Well, if you're not busy. It'll only take a couple of hours…" His eyes silently plead with you.

"I don't know Steven, I've got a lot to do at the club."

He casts his eyes downwards and smiles tightly. He starts the tap and throws in the colinder. "Course you have, sorry. I shouldn't of just presumed…" You hear the clang of the pans in the sink.

"Let me make a call." You say and you don't even realise it's come out of your mouth.

"What?" He says, and you can see a smile beginning to form beneath his pout.

"Give me 5 minutes Steven. Let me make a call." You walk out of the room and dial a number, organise for one of your older members of staff to come in a collect the deliveries for you. You'll still be behind with your paperwork but this time with Steven is priceless. Besides, you know how good his food is and the idea of a deli sandwich in a cold office can't compare anymore.

You walk back into the kitchen/diner, a satisfied smile on your face. "Ready when you are, chef."

His smile makes the extra late night you have at the club all worth it.

….

Your phone rings as your inducting a new staff member, David. It's Steven. You can't help your smile as you answer it.

"Steven."

"Hiyer. Just thought I'd let you know which dishes I picked."

"Go on…" You urge and you flick your finger towards David, telling him to take a break. He goes on to tell you the seven dishes that made it to his menu. "Excellent choices, Steven. Those were my favourites."

"They were all your favourites, Bren."

You shrug, lay down on the leather sofa in the members area. "What can I say, you're a great cook and I'm a man of great taste."

"Listen, can I come see you?"

Always. The answer is always. "If you like." You settle on, intrigued.

When Steven finally arrives at the club, he's carrying a rucksack and without even saying a word to you he empties it on the desk. He's got the pink tinge in his ears that show he's flustered and a pout that shows you he's about to give up on whatever he's doing.

He sits down opposite you in a huff and you wait for him to speak first. Like he always does. "I don't know where to start."

You slowly lean over the desk and finger your way through the bits of crumpled paper on your desk. It's got his staff documents which presumably he needs to use to add them to the payroll. He's got lists of ingredients that he needs per day and in black biro he's scribbled FRESH in capital letters by them. On some he's written in orange highlighter ordered. He's got bills and bank statements up to his eyesballs. It looks like a mess. Except, from what you can see, the bills match up with the bank statements and his budget which is scribbled on another piece of paper. The staff payroll sheet needs to be filled out which is easy enough and it looks like all the ingredients he's needed have been ordered and and the fresh meat and produce you presume will be delivered from the supplier fresh on the day. When you look at him, he looks like he's about to cry.

"Well you really have gotten yourself into a muddle Steven…" You can't help but chuckle.

"It's not funny Brendan. " You says, arms folded as he sinks further into his chair. You look at him, ears even pinker than before, bottom lip jutted out even further and you laugh again. "You know what, if you're not going help, I'm not going to sit here and be laughed at."

He stands up and you shake your head, stand up with him. "Sit down, Steven."

"No. This is all some big joke to you innit? Well it's my life Brendan! It's my chance to make something of myself for my kids!"

His eyes have glossed over with anger and you raise your eyebrows. "You finished? Or you need me to get my violin?" His eyes widen and you can see that he's about to launch into another rant but you cut him off before he even has the chance to begin. "Sit down Steven. Jesus."

The lad does as he's told, for once. Still with a face on him obviously. You reach into your drawer and pull out four blank leaver arch folders. You throw them in his direction. "One for staffing, one for ordering, one for costing and one for miscellaneous, recipes, receipts,whatever, you'll just need to buy yourself some dividers… " You see his features soften slightly but his embarrassment keeps his stiff upper lip. "From what I can see, you've sorted everything, just not organised it. I'll show you how to do the payroll thing if you like, will only take 5 minutes. I mean, it's probably similar to what you used for the deli."

"Doug did all that. Used to say he was the brains and I was the beauty. Whatever that means."

Even dead Douglas still has the capability to make your blood boil. "You got the brains, boy. You think I'd have parted with 80 thousand of my hard earned if you didn't?"

He shrugs."You told me you did it cause you…" He gulps, suddenly nervous. "Y'know." Loved me. You silently fill in for him.

You smile. "I love my boys but it don't mean I'm going to give them 80 grand." You see a small smile. "Truth is Steven, I believed in you. I still do."

"Thanks." He mumbles reluctantly.

"I'm sorry," You say with a big smile, hand to your ear. "What was that? Didn't quite catch it?"

He beams now, matching yours, starts to shuffle his papers together. "Alright, Brendan, don't push it!"

You shake your head and try to slow down the racing in your chest.

"Let me buy you a drink."

"Funny you should say that Steven cause in case you haven't noticed, I have 3 bars so take your pick."

"No not now." He says as he stuffs the files into his rucksack. "I mean later. After you've finished, somewhere else. What is it you used to say, binman's holiday or summat?"

You huff a laugh and nod. "Or summat but yeah, after work sounds good. Maybe the Fox and Hound down the road?"

"Alright. About 5ish?"

"About 5ish."

…..

You turn up half an hour late. You tried calling Steven's mobile but it went straight through to voicemail. When you step inside, you expect to see sulking in a corner but instead he's leaning against the bar, 2 pints, one half drank and the other for you, you presume. You're about to walk over when you notice the barmen lean down by him and whisper something in his ear and it makes Steven do that ridiculous donkey laugh. You make a mental note to go after the first round.

Steven's eyes catch yours then and, still laughing, he waves you over. You smile tightly and crick your neck, the barman notices you. He's seen you before.

"I know you…" He says and his Scottish accent is the only thing that gives you the memory flashback when he caught you after hours with a member of his staff, giving him the best blowjob of his life in the alleyway down the side of the pub.

You shake your head as you watch Steven's smile fade and his eyebrows narrow. "Let's go sit down Steven."

"Oh, so you're wining and dining this one then…"

"What's he on about Brendan?"

"Nothing, he's….just….nothing Steven. Let's go sit down." You're grabbing his shoulders now but he's reluctant to move.

"You want to be careful, mate."

Steven looks at him and then at you. It looks like you're not going anywhere. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"He led one of my staff members up the garden path, or should that be alleyway…." He quips at you specifically. "Was a couple of months ago now but the poor lad didn't stop watching the door for your fella here."

"He's not my fella."

"Listen mate, I like you and -"

"Now we get to the point." You interrupt. Your own burning jealousy making you obscure any other thoughts. "You want a piece of him so you thought you'd do some character damage on me, yeah?"

"What? No, I'm married."

You lean over the bar menacingly. "So was I." You take both yours and Steven's drink and look at Steven. "You coming? Or you staying with lover boy here?"

You sit down and try to get your breathing back to normal, you close your eyes and let the alcohol do it's work. When you open them, Steven's sat beside you. And you smile softly at him.

"Sorry."

"It's alright." He smiles. "He was being a bit of a twat anyway."

You smile back and follow his eye line to his fingers as he plays nervously with them. "Did you…I mean…were you seeing him. The one from the bar."

You shake your head. "No. Never. It was after you'd gone back to Michael and I just... y'know, I coped."

"There are better ways of dealing with things than just shagging your way through a place you know?" He says and you're not sure how to read his expression. Part of you wants to think that he's jealous too.

"Maybe. But I bet non of them make me come."

"Brendan!" He says, slapping you playfully on the arm and you smile at how quickly he gets embarrassed. The small crooked smile on his face quickly evaporates as he looks into his lap. "So, is there anyone, you know, special…"

You look levelly at him but he can't bring himself to look at you. Takes a long gulp of his drink instead.

"Special?" You question because, there's a difference between fucking someone and them being special. Macca was something, Vinnie was more but Steven…he's everything.

"Y'know like, are you seeing anyone?" He looks at you now and you can see the rise and fall of his chest speed up. He looks away again, plays with the edge of his sleeves. "Cause it's alright if you are you know…" He adds quickly, like he's convincing himself.

"I know." He looks up at you then and it looks like he's stopped breathing. "But I'm not."

You watch his chest relax with something like relief and he smiles slightly, shrugging his shoulders and taking a sip of his pint. "Me either."

You nod and take the froth off your pint. You can see his eyes smiling. You have no idea what it means. You daren't dream just yet.

….

After you finish your first round of drinks, you decide to move to a pub further up the road. You finally feel at ease as you listen to him chatter away about his new business, about the kids. It's the first time he's talked about them with you and it makes your heart melt and ache for them, all of them, in equal measure. A couple of whiskey chasers down and Steven has some how slid closer to you so that your knees are touching and your arm is resting on the ledge behind him. You stop hearing his words then, instead concentrating on the feel and smell of him and how you miss it. You miss the sex, of course you do. It's the one part of you both that always agreed. But most of all, you miss spending time with him. You miss his mood swings, the way sticks his tongue out when he's concentrating. The way that you can tease him. The way that he's one of only 4 people who you would allow to tease you. You miss him.

"So what do you think? You up for it?"

You realise that you've missed the past 10 minutes of his conversation but you quickly glance down at his phone. See the name Sinead.

"I don't know Steven."

"Oh come on, it's just a few celebratory drinks with Sinead and that in the dog. They won't bite."

You gulp down the rest of your drink. The dog. In Hollyoaks. The heart of the village. The place you've avoided like the plague. "They want to celebrate your job with you Steven, I'll just be in the way."

"No you won't!" He protests, his eyes pleading with yours. "Come on Bren, it won't be the same without you."

"Nobody'll miss me."

"I will, I'll miss you."

His eyelashes flutter up at you. You wonder if he knows what he does to you when he does that. When he looks at you like you're his world. There's only one answer that you can give.

"OK Steven."

…..

You feel all eyes on you. Darren and Nancy are behind the bar, laughing and joking until they see you. Then there's Steven's friends, Sinead, that lad who used to work in the shop, George something, and a few others. You've never felt more exposed, more trapped than you do right now. You're about to turn around and run but he's there. And he's got your arm and all of these people that are staring at you, he's staring right back at them.

"Come on Brendan, it's my round."

You gulp and nod and follow his lead to the bar. The noise that you'd expect to hear in the pub still not quite back up to that bustling level of old.

"I'll have two pints of lager please, Darren."

"We don't want any trouble Ste." Darren mutters quietly and you can see that it's gotten Steven's back up. You can see that he wasn't expecting this. Because he's the only one that ever got to see you, the real you. And he doesn't understand why everyone else just sees the physcho that you showed them.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He says, with his jaw tense and you watch as Darren glances up to you quickly.

""Well, y'know…with…" He can't even bring himself to say your name.

"Brendan, Darren. His names Brendan. I'm surprised you forgot actually, his name's been in all the papers."

You can't help but feel a little bit proud but his voice is starting to raise and you know he's close to making a scene. You put a hand on his shoulder. "Steven, it's ok, I'll go. I can go."

"Yeah maybe that's for the best." You hear a female voice suddenly say from beside you and you watch Steven's face crumple like he's just been punched in the gut. He's shaking his head.

"Not you an' all Sinead."

"Listen babe, I'm just saying that maybe it's for the best, so that everyone can relax."

He's shaking his head violently now. "What do you think he's gonna do? What do you think he's capable of, eh?"

"Murder!" You hear someone from the side shout. "Multiple times!"

Your palms are sweaty and you feel the walls closing in. You see your dad's face looking at you, laughing at you. You can hear your nana's voice in your head as you hit your ears, trying to get her out. You close your eyes and see the blood pouring from Danny Houston's head. You need to go….you need to…

"It's up to you Ste but you either stay with us, your friends. Or you go with him."

You turn. And you're about to run but before you can get anywhere, you feel a hand on your shoulder. "It's not a choice." He says and he walks out with you.

….

You can feel yourself falling, sinking with no way out. You're eyes are closed and your life flashes before them. Seamus, your boys, Eileen, Macca, Vinnie, blood, Steven, Steven's blood, Seamus' blood and then you can hear noise and Steven's voice and you don't know if it's in your imagination or…

You turn around, take your head out of your hands and you look towards the kitchen from the sofa that you've been rocking backwards and forwards on. You hear screaming, Steven. Everything else is forgotten because he's all that matters. You jump up and run towards the kitchen. Find him against the wooden counters, head banging backwards, teeth gritted and tears falling.

"Hey…" You slide down next to him and try to hold him, stop him from hurting himself. It hurts you. But he fights against it so you have to fight back, pushing him away and grabbing his waist, trapping him, encircling him with your legs and pulling him back to you so that his back rests on your chest and you can smell his hair without even trying to.

You rest your chin on his shoulder so that you're cheek to cheek and press him backwards so that you can feel his sobs in your heart. You shush him and soothe him and rub his neck and tell him that it's ok. That it's all Ok. You hear him sniff and relax back into you, his sobs slowly subsiding.

"I just, I don't get why they'd be like that. They're supposed to be my friends Brendan."

"They are your friends Steven. They're just looking out for you."

"No they're not. They're interefering. Reckon they know what's best for me when they don't! I'm sick of people thinking they know what's best and don't bother asking me what I think."

You gulp and hum. You know that was partly a dig at you and you want to tell him how you've regretted that moment in the hospital ever since but that it got to a point, where you couldn't take it back. You couldn't risk dragging him back into your world all over again. It was the most selfish and selfless act you've ever had to make.

"I'm sorry." He breathes and it knocks you back into the room. You move your head to the side to look at him.

"What have you got to be sorry for?"

"For them. For me. For, taking you back there when you weren't ready." You're about to speak but he cuts you off. "And don't tell me it's OK Brendan because it's not. It was selfish. I was to busy thinking about myself and how I wanted all the people that I" He pauses for a second, thinking about his words. "That I…care about in the same room"

You nod. "I need to go to the club." You say and you unwrap yourself from him, stand up and brush yourself down.

"Thought you'd got cover for the day."

As you reach for your keys of the diner table, you freeze. "Not that club."

He must get it then because you hear him scuffle to get up. "What? Not-"

"Chez Chez." You confirm. "Or whatever it's called these days."

"Well I'm coming with you."

"No Steven…" You say and his eyes blink up at you in confusion. "I need to do this alone. I ain't letting that man haunt me, not anymore."

It took you a good few hours before you managed to get to the club. You went to your car when you left the flat, quickly realising that you were too over the limit to drive. You ordered a taxi and stood around the corner so you wouldn't be tempted to go back inside to be with Steven. Ask him to come with you, be your crutch yet again. You're sick of giving him your weight to carry.

You got the taxi to pull up by the club and you waited for a moment, watched the club goers go in and out. Your taxi driver repeated the cost of the taxi but you told him to go somewhere else, a pub further out of the village.

You were on your third pint with chaser and you felt your phone buzz. 1 missed call and three texts from Steven.

From: Steven 22:00

Hope ur Ok.

From: Steven 22:43

U dont have to do this if u dont want.

From Steven: 11:17

Sorry if I keep bothring u. Just need u 2knw I'm here if u need me. x

It gives you more strength then all the alcohol in the world. You order a taxi and you walk into the club.

…..

It's changed a fair bit. Different colouring, different bar staff. You wonder immediately what Cheryl would think of it all and it raises a smile. You wave to the girl behind the bar and she stops in her tracks and it immediately worries you, thinking that maybe she's recognised you, even with just a little stubble.

You remember when you left prison, with a beard and you were trimming it back to get your tache but you just kept going with the razor, didn't stop and Cheryl said she barely recognised you. You liked that. You wanted to be anonymous.

So now you're looking at this girl, you're heart pounding but then you see the twinkle in her eye. And the way she coos in your direction. Is she…She's flirting with you. You give her a smile, tell her to keep the change and then you head to a dark corner of the room and watch the spot where he hit you, where he undid his belt and then…the place where he collapsed and you watch as people danced on his grave. And the dust that comes up from their feet. That's all it is now, isn't it. Dust. It just breaks away.

You smile and you laugh and you finish your drink and leave. You can hear Steven's voice in your head. He can't hurt you anymore.

He must've waited up for you. He must have, why else would he be asleep on the sofa, phone clutched in his hand, TV off. You bend down to look at him, this boy, the boy that saved you – more than once. You watch his mouth part slightly as soft breaths blow in and out. He looks peaceful. He makes you feel more peaceful. You stop yourself from running a hand through his hair.

Instead you place your hand on his shoulder and shake him gently until his eyes flutter open. It takes him a moment to register it's you and when he does he sits up and throws his arms around you, almost knocking you backwards.

You hold him and you breathe in his scent and you burry your head in his neck and stroke his hair. Suddenly he's untangling himself from you, stands up with his cheeks blushed pink and goes into his bedroom. You fall gently forwards and that's when you realise. You weren't holding him, he was holding you.

…..

You've fallen into a routine. You're not sure how or when it happened. For the first month and a half you and Steven barely saw each other but now you've got this pattern and you're not sure if it was an accident or if you orchestrated it or if he did.

Monday and Tuesday are your days off. Steven works the lunchtime shift but is usually home for dinner. Monday's you have a take away and Tuesday's you cook. In the evening you watch a film. His choice Monday, yours Tuesday.

Wednesday is your student night so you work at the club from 2 O'clock til late. It's Steven's day off so he spends the morning doing his paperwork then comes with you to the club for a pint before he gets the bus that stops just outside to go and see his kids. He stays overnight with Amy and her fella then takes the kids to school in the morning. Apparently she doesn't trust him with the kids on his own just yet after the drugs. You think that's only partly the truth and that she doesn't want you seeing them or worse, that she doesn't know your situation.

Thursday's you have a lie in then pick Steven up from the bus station at lunch time. You go to the club together and he goes to the shops to do the big shop. He insists he pays because he doesn't feel like you charge him enough rent. You don't argue. You spend the afternoon checking in on the staff and doing your orders. By 3 you're both back at home and Steven does the cooking while you do the paperwork. Not before you've watched come dine with me at 5 though. Steven insists. At 10 you go back to the club for a couple of hours and do the rounds and by the time you get back, Steven is asleep. He's up at 5 the next day taking in the meat delivery for the weekend.

Friday's Steven gets back by about lunchtime and you both go to the pub for some lunch. You come back and chill for the rest of the day, Steven chattering about something or other. You sit and listen and laugh at him and he gets in a mood and then you say something to make him laugh. You have a lighter dinner (and about a packet of jammy dodgers when Steven's not looking) then both go to work by 6.

Saturday's are both of your busiest days. You're at the club most of the day and Steven is in the restaurant most of the day too. You usually communicate via the odd text, usually instigated by Steven. Sometimes he even sends you pictures of his food on instagram. Little fucker downloaded it on your phone when you were sleeping.

Ste_Hay92:

Look at this! #Fit #Mine

(You had to get him to explain what the hashtag was for)

From Steven:

Staff r fucking me off 2day. Only 1 hour into service and they've already taken 2 orders to the wrong table!

From Steven:

Seen a man with a tache and it reminded me of u!

From Steven:

Do u want some desert bringing home? Got loads left.

Sunday's you both wake up quite late. Steven is usually first, ringing the kids as he does every night. You let him have his time and then go for your run. By the time you come back he's usually cooked you lunch. You both do your paperwork from the weekend then by 4 you head off to the pub for a few pints and sometimes, when you've both been paid, a Sunday roast. Every other Sunday Steven goes to see the kids and you spend the evening missing him.

….

The kids are on their half term holidays and Amy and her fella have taken them away for the whole week, considerate as ever. As a result, Steven's extra cranky today. He's missing them like mad and can't even phone them as Amy says she's not taking a phone because it costs too much. You resent her for not thinking of Steven, like he always thinks of her.

You're heads been bitten off more than once. The first time when you asked where the seedless jam was, the second when you used the last of the loo roll, the third when you slurped your tea and after that, you just stopped counting. The only time you remember even seeing half a smile from him was when you stubbed your toe on the edge of the sofa and blasphemed until the pain subsided. That's why you're in the club early today.

Just as your counting the stock in the fridges, Steven enters and you roll your neck ready for round two.

You put your pen and clip board down. "Go on then, what've I done now? Cleaned the shower wrong? Not fluffed the cushions right, what?"

He looks up at you through dark, hooded eyes and shakes his head, his tracksuit top hanging loosely off him, reflecting in his eyes. "Sorry." He says, with a pout, like he's not sorry at all.

You want to say fuck his apologies but when he's looking at you like this, cheeks shining in the light, hair falling slightly over his face, you can't possibly stay mad at him.

"Want a drink, Steven?"

He nods and drinks it in silence, watches as you work. He always did enjoy doing that, in the days when he probably spent more time in the club than in the deli.

When you've finished you take a seat next to him with your coffee. He looks at you like you've grown three heads.

"You feeling alright?" He asks as he eyes the steam coming from your cup.

"Yeah, just….we've got a big party tonight, so. Need a clear head, don't I. I'm planning on making them regular cliental."

He nods and slurps the last dregs of his pint. "So, like, could I get in?"

"You can get in the club, Steven but not the party. It's a private event." He nods and you can see the loneliness in his eyes. You can see what he was thinking, the same thing he's done before, come to the club and claim your attention for the rest of the evening. You can't afford to do that tonight. "Why don't you go out with your mates, let your hair down?"

He shakes his head. "I haven't really spoken to them, have I? After…" The incident in the pub. Yeah, you remember. The one where everyone would have had you tarred, feathered and dragged through the streets. Everyone but Steven.

"Listen Steven…"

"No, Brendan.. Don't make excuses for them, right. I'm not having it. They way they spoke about you. I mean, if they think that about you, what must they think about me, eh?"

"I wasn't going to make excuses Steven but…Listen, life's too short. Call them. I'm sure they miss you."

He did it. After a couple more pints, the stubborn little bastard. Told you where they were going to go, what he was going to wear, everything. Told you about the time that they ended up at a strip joint and Sinead bought him a lap dance. He told you about that with a donkey laugh.

….

You stay later than usual at the club. You're not sure why but you think you've become so accustomed to life with Steven that you get lonely without him. By the time you get back, Steven's already home and in bed. You know because the blue nike trainers he talked about wearing were aimlessly kicked off and his red jacket was draped across the sofa. You picked up his shoes and put them by the door, then hung up his jacket on the banister. You poured a glass of water and walked towards your room but before you got there, you noticed that there was a light on in Steven's room. You peer through at him fully clothed and star fished on top of the bad. You stifle a small laugh and go into his room, placing the glass of water you'd just poured by the side of his bed.

He'd be needing it more than you.

….

Steven's borrowed your car to do the weekly shop. You used to offer to go with him but he says you just get in the way and end up buying stuff that's no good for you. Suddenly there's a knock at the door. Your immediate thought is Steven must have left his keys so you start looking around as you make your way to the door, trying to look for them. The knocks get harder and the banging louder.

"Alright I'm coming, Jesus!" You yell as you open the door. Except it's not Steven that's behind it. It's Amy and the kids.

You gulp nervously. You could almost laugh at how much this blonde little thing has you reduced to this, a trembling mess. "Amy."

She has the good grace to look as shocked as you until all of that falls away and she shakes her head disapprovingly. Before she has the chance to say anything, Leah pops her head around from behind Amy's legs.

You smile and drop down to her level, she's much bigger now and it almost shocks you of how much of her life you've missed.

"Mum, who's that?" She asks and it knocks you for ten. Your smile drops as you look up to Amy, half expecting to see a satisfied smile appear. But you don't, and what she looks is, sad.

"It's Brendan, sweetheart. He's a friend of your Dad's."

She contemplates you for a moment and you force a smile back on your face. "Hi Brendan." She says, full of confidence now.

"Hi Leah darling." You say back, and you must not be able to hide the hurt in your eyes because then Amy says,

"It's been a long time Brendan."

You nod and step to one side, silently inviting them in. Lucas stays by his mum the whole time as he eyes you up and down. Not even a flicker of recognition goes across his face.

You make your way to the kitchen and automatically flick the kettle on and come back to see Amy getting out some toys while Leah plays with the remote, flicking through the channels "You should be able to find something to watch on their. There's CBeebies or…"

"That's for babies." She smiles and you nod. Of course it is. The time when she and Lucas would watch it for hours on end was a previous life.

"Alright, well there's some movies and stuff. You're old enough for the 18's right? What are you now, 23, 24?" She giggles and it warms your heart. Amy's ice cold glare soon changes that though. "Listen, you think you can find something for you and your brother to watch while me and your mum go and have a drink in the kitchen?"

She nods and Amy gives her a reassuring smile as she makes her way over to you by the kitchen. You're about to turn around when you hear your name again.

"Brendan?"

"Yes sweetheart?"

"I liked your moustache."

She turns around and watches the TV. Not even Amy can wipe the smile off your face now.

You watch as she sips on the tea you've just made her. You remember just how she likes it, if she can bring herself to like anything that comes from you.

"Well what an unpleasant surprise this has turned out to be. No wonder Ste wouldn't let me come and visit!"

You huff a laugh and shake your head. "Charming, as always."

"Well can you blame me Brendan. I didn't even know you'd been let out of prison!" She screws up her face and looks at you. Contemplates you for a moment. "You have been let out haven't you?"

"No I used a small pick axe and a glamour girl poster." You reply and her face is deadpan. Obviously hasn't watched the Shawshank redemption, you thought to yourself "Got my sentence reduced. I was released almost a year ago now."

"Ste's been here a year!"

You shake you head again and hold out a hand. "Woah, wait, Amy. Steven's only been living here for the past three and a half months."

"So when did you get back together then?"

"We're not."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"You believe whatever you wanna believe. We're not together. He's just living here." You can see the cogs turning in her head. "Wait, Amy, what are you doing here?"

"Well, we asked Ste if he'd be spending Christmas with us and he said he'd probably be spending it with his housemate so we came round to see if his housemate wanted to come too." You raise your eyebrows in amusement while she looks you up and down. "That offer is now withdrawn by the way."

"Naturally." You nod, taking a sip of your tea.

You sit in silence for a while longer until Leah comes running in asking for a drink. You smile genuinely at her, pray to God that there's still some squash left and make her and her brother a drink. Amy smiles too and tells the kids to drink their drinks quickly because they'll be going soon.

"Listen, Amy, why don't you stay for tea. We're getting a take away. My treat."

"I don't want your blood money."

"Jesus, it's not..I'm not…I earn an honest living Amy. All that's behind me now."

"So no more Walkers? No more revenge seeking lunatics lurking in the shadows."

"No." She raises an eyebrow. "NO."

"I wish I could believe you."

"I swear, Amy. I swear on my life."

"Swear on Ste's."

You hoist your neck back so that you can look at her. "What?"

"Swear on Ste's life. I know how little your own means."

You should feel offended but instead you feel grateful. Grateful that she knows how much he means to you. How he's more important than your own life. "I swear on his life. No ghosts. No nothing. I've paid my penance." She looks at you like she's assessing you. "Please Amy. It'll mean the world to Steven if you stayed."

She nods slowly. "Ok. But promise me something first."

"Anything."

"Promise me that you're not back together."

"I promise."

"And promise me that you never will get back together. Even if Ste wanted to."

Your breath hitches in your chest. You exhale slowly and shake your head.

"Promise me Brendan."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because it'd be like promising not to breathe again." Impossible.

You don't know what to expect next, whether she'll up and leave with the kids or whether she'll appreciate your honesty and stay. Before you have a chance to find out, you hear the door opening. Steven's home.

"Dad!" Both Leah and Lucas shout as they throw themselves into Steven's path. He puts down the shopping that he's carrying and engulfs them in his arms. You've never seen him look so happy.

His smile fades when he sees Amy stood by you, arms crossed and, no doubt, a face like thunder. He pulls himself out of the embrace with the kids, is sure to give them both kisses first and then smiles shakily to Amy.

"Ames, what you doing here?"

"I could say the same to you."

You watch as his adams apple quivers and you can't believe he's done it again. Put everything on the line for you. You sign to him that you'll go and get the rest of the shopping out of the car and carry all the bags in, putting them away as Steven and Amy talk in hushed whispers.

You're just about to put the final tin in the cupboard when Steven comes bounding in, searching in the top cupboard for the takeaway menus.

"They're gonna stay for tea, Bren. How greats that?"

"It's great, Steven."

"I mean, can you believe it. Me, you, Amy and me kids all around one table." He's got that goofy grin on his face that makes his top tooth slightly stick out. You want to lick it. Instead, you settle for a soft smile. "I'd have never of thought this in a million years, me."

"Well you better start believing, Steven."

You spend most of the evening tooing and frowing from the kitchen. Any drink refills, any plates needed washing and you were the man. You didn't want to say anything that'd ruin this moment for Steven. That'd make Amy change her mind and leave.

You and Amy barely exchange a glance, never mind a word but that's ok. Because Leah keeps you all going with her tales of school and how she wants to be an actress when she grows up. Steven spends most of the time smiling and it makes you smile too. You think you catch Amy watching you once but by the time you look, her eyes are back on Steven. You think maybe it was all in your head.

By the time the evening comes to a close, Steven insists on driving them home, and you agree, giving him the keys to your car. Amy visits the bathroom before leaving while Lucas gives you a high five and Leah gives you a hug and blows you a kiss. Steven looks on proudly then he looks at you, and you try to make out what he's thinking but he's unreadable.

Amy breaks the moment as she comes out of the toilets and collects her things. Steven walks out of the house first, followed by the kids. Amy looks at you as you stand, chest puffed out, shoulders wide.

"Amy." You say, giving her a small nod to be on her way except she doesn't go. She stares at you a little longer. As if she's assessing something, assessing you.

"Don't you dare let him down again, Brendan."

You're not sure what she means by that but you nod, regardless. "I won't."

…..

You've not had any more visits from Amy recently but she has let the kids come over a few times. Steven's driven them home at the end of the night, partly on her request, partly because there's no room for them to stay anyway. When he gets back, you can see his heart breaking everytime and you wish you could hold him. Part of you thinks he wishes you can too.

What you can do though is offer him a beer to help him sleep. One night, you end up having more than you both anticipate and he sits on the rug with his head against the single seater as he likes to do sometimes.

"We should really get a bigger place. So that the kids can stay over."

You tilt your head and look at him. And it's like he's suddenly sobered up and realised what he's just said. Elluded to an idea that this situation you have going on now, it isn't going to end.

"I mean, I need to get a bigger place. When I move out."

It's been almost 6 months that he's lived with you now and you know that he could probably afford to move out soon. You want to ask him when, you want to tell him to stay. Instead, you nod and go out to put the bins out.

It's December the first and in traditional style, you go out to find a tree to decorate and put up. You used to go with your sister but now Steven's here with you. Says its his tree too so he wants some input. You shrug and find yourself to the Santa's Tree Grotto on the edge of Chester.

You talk to one of the men, all wellies and thick coat, about the trees. Which tend to last the longer, which are better value for money while Steven pokes and prods his way around.

"The ferns are usually good value, not to expensive and last as long as any of the others."

You nod along until you hear a loud Ouch! come from the middle. You roll your eyes and excuse yourself then find Steven hissing and shaking his finger.

"It's well prickly that." He says and glares at the tree in front of him like it's personally offended him.

"Well it's going to be Steven isn't it? 'Specially if you start pressing the spikes."

"Yeah, a bit but it's like a bloody cactus that one!" You tut and shake your head at him. "I don't see why we can't just get a fake one."

"Why would you want a cheap imitation when you can get the real thing, huh?"

He pouts at you and shrugs. "Well, for the planet and that."

"Jesus since when did you become a member of green peace?" You laugh at him and he gives you a look of warning which amuses you further. You shake off your laughs and show him the label. "Look, it says here that these trees are grown for this purpose and that for each one cut down, a new one's planted."

He sticks out his tongue and squints as he reads it. He turns away from you and folds arms. "I just think it's easier that's all…"

"Yeah and I think it's easier if you wait in the car." You throw him the keys.

"Oi, you can't just boss me ab-"

"Jesus Steven do you have to argue about everything! Just…just wait in the car, yeah? Please."

He juts out his bottom lip and does as he's told, for once. When you get back into the car you tell him that he can decide where you shop for decorations. You even let him change from radio 2 to radio 1 to try to get him out of his mood.

When you get to the shop of choice (Bits and Bobs), you try not to comment on the tacky nature of it. You grab a basket from the front and watch as Steven fills it with off coloured ornements and a rainbow of tinsel.

"We need an angel Steven." You note, despite the fact that you've got practically everything else in the shop.

"No we don't." He says as he makes his way to the small queue by the till. "Our Leah said she's making one for us at school. Y'know, one of those doughey ones that sets and you paint and stuff."

You nod and are surprised at how it makes your heart flutter.

You get back to the house and put the tree up. You argue with Steven for what seems like the twentieth time today. He only comes out of his mood when the fecking thing pricks your finger.

"Told you they hurt." He smiles wryly. You tell him to fuck off and to pass you the box of decorations but he shakes his head. "No. We need to wait for the kids to help us tomorrow."

"The kids?"

"Yeah. It's not Christmas without them decorating it is it?"

You take a deep breath. Jesus. It's going to look like someone's thrown up on your tree.

The next day Steven picks the kids up as planned and they all laugh and giggle as the decorate the tree together. Luckily, you've found an old bottle of port in the cupboard so take a seat at the dining table and choose to watch them from a distance.

"Is Brendan not helping us, daddy?" You overhear Lucas ask. Steven looks at you with a grin on his face and shakes his head.

"No mate. Brendan's just grumpy because all the colours don't match."

"Hey!" You scorn from across the room. "Take no notice of your da' Lucas. It's just too many cooks, that's all."

He wrinkles his nose and he couldn't look more like Steven if he tried. "What does that mean?"

"Your daddy will tell you." You smile as you top up your glass further and listen to Lucas' questions about cooks and broth and how many is too many and what's in a broth and what that's got to do with a Christmas tree. Steven handles the incessant questions far better than you had hoped.

Steven leaves the kids to carry on decorating while he whips up something for their tea. You all sit down together and Leah comments on your moustache and how she's glad you've grown it back because you look too strange without it. Steven laughs and smiles and then you realise so are you.

After you've eaten you just have time for the unveiling of the angel, for which you lift Leah up for. You suspect she asked you because you're slightly taller than her dad. You make a mental note to tease him about it later.

It's 6:30 now and Steven needs to get the kids back so he can put them to bed and you need to get to the club. You look at the tree before you leave with all of it's tack and un co-ordination. It feels like Christmas.

…..

Steven's going out for a drink tonight with Sinead and the motley crew. It's normally the night you go to the pub after work together so he said he wants to check it's alright with you. You shake your head at him, say he's an idiot and to go out and have a good time. He throws you a smile on the way to his room.

"Thank you." You say as he passes you.

He stops and turns as if he's going to say something. Ask you what you're thanking him for but he already knows. You're thanking him for thinking about you, always. Despite the fact that he doesn't need to and you don't deserve it.

"It's ok." He says and closes the door on his room.

The next morning, Steven's hung over. He's sprawled himself on the sofa and put on Geordie Shores best bits. As if that programme actually has any. When you return from work to check on him, he's still in the same position and he's whining for water and tablets and a food.

You give him a glass of water and some paracetemol and make him a bacon sandwich which he demolishes. You're pretty sure it's the first thing he's eaten all day.

You decided to stay at home to do your paperwork except you keep getting distracted when Steven's phone keeps beeping and ringing. When it happens for the 5th time in the space of half an hour your throw down your pen and rub your temple.

"You gonna get that?"

Steven sighs and stretches for his phone on the coffee table. As he does he starts ringing again. He shakes his head and puts it back down.

"Who is it?" You ask, curiosity suddenly getting the better of you.

"You don't want to know."

"Oh I do." You reply quickly, concern and instinct telling you so. "Who you trying to avoid?"

"I'm not avoiding anyone It's a cold caller." He says and then he's standing up and running to the bathroom.

While he's in there, his phone rings again and in your frustration you jump up and answer it. "Listen mate, he don't want any premium bonds, he don't have any PPI claims to make, he ain't been injured in an accident at work or play…"

"Ste?"

That stopped you then. The term sounded too familiar for a cold caller. "Who's this?"

"It's Jonny, who's this?"

Your heart speeds up at the sound. Your earlier anger paving the way for insecurity and jealousy. "I'm erm…Steven's cousin."

"Oh right, well…is Ste there?"

"Why?"

"To sort out a time and place for our date."

It's like someone has punched you in the stomach. All of the wind has been knocked out of you. You cough to clear your throat. "He's…um…he's just popped out. I'll pass on the message." You put the phone down before you even hear a reply.

Steven reappears from the bathroom all bleary eyed and red faced. "I'm never drinking again." He states and throws himself down next to you. "Brendan…" He whines, placing his head lightly on your shoulder as he curls himself into you. "Will you look after me?"

Yes. That's the answer. Every day for the rest of his life. Except he doesn't want that, not really. He can't if he's out arranging dates and dalliances with strangers.

"Why don't you ask Jonny?" You spit bitterly, standing up so that his head falls flat on the sofa. "I'm going back to work."

You hear him call you as you leave but you slam the door shut.

You stay at the club as late as possible, getting yourself a take away to eat in your office. When you get back, Steven's asleep on the sofa. It looks like he's tried waiting up for you. You allow yourself a look at him for a moment, his angelic features and his soft lips. You imagine them wrapped around another mans and you make the ache in your chest ache some more.

You wake up earlier than normal, your plan is to avoid Steven for a bit longer, even though you know you're going to have to have a conversation sooner or later and that's what terrifies you, now you've had time to think. It's not the idea that he might meet someone and sleep with them, it's the idea that it'll mean the end between you two because while he's here, with you, there's always a chance…

When you pour yourself a coffee you hear Steven's door opening. He's wearing a t-shirt and his boxers and you can't look at him but you already know he's behind you.

"Can we talk?" He says and his voice is small.

You take a gulp of your coffee and pour the rest down the sink. What a waste. "Can't. I got to go out."

"Well then can we talk after?"

When you turn around he's there and if you want to go past him you're going to have to slide past. "If you really want to but I'm pretty busy Steven, so…"

"I didn't give him my number." He calls after you as you shuffle past him, his t-shirt riding up.

You stop and turn back to him. You feign indifference. "What's your point?"

His forehead is crinkled in confusion. "I just thought you'd want to know." He says and takes a step closer to you. "It was Sinead. She was trying to set me up even though I told her I weren't interested."

"Well that's…fascinating Steven. It really is."

"Brendan, why are you being like this?" He reaches out to you but you step back and shake your head.

"Because I don't care Steven. You can go out and fuck whoever you want." You're not sure why you're trying to hurt him but you can see that it's working. You can't watch his face crumble any more so you leave without another word.

…..

You can't concentrate. Not on the paperwork, not on the supply order you need to make not even on serving behind the bar. All your thoughts are with Steven and his crest fallen face when you left him. You tell Jack that you're leaving early tonight and only to call you should there be an emergency. You needed to make this up to Steven.

You head back to the flat via the shop which is all decorated in fake frosting and tinsel. You pick up some beers and a dvd, Pulp Fiction to be precise. You remember talking to Steven about it once and you couldn't believe that he'd never seen it. You make your way to the till and at the last minute throw some dorrittos and dip in the mix. You'll enjoy them even if Steven won't.

When you get back to the flat you can hear music coming from Steven's room and the smell of aftershave lingers in the air. You lean on his doorframe with an apologetic smile on your face. He sees you and then chooses to ignore you, instead looking back into the mirror and styling his hair.

You sigh and hold up the Dvd and beers. "I got these?"

He looks at the DVD and then you and you see a flicker of something there but whatever it was soon disappears and returns to anger.

"Well that'll be nice for you won't it." He says throwing on a jacket and pushing his way past you.

You grab his arm. "Steven, wait… where are you going?"

He turns to you then with a mirthless smile on his face. It's intended to hurt. "Got a date with Jonny 'aven't I?"

He waits to see your reaction but you just stare straight through him. Give him your poker face despite your insides screaming. You want to hit him and hurt him and hurt yourself but you breathe through it.

"Have a nice time then." You say and it's like he's disappointed. He shakes his head and leaves.

…..

You've almost downed a bottle of whiskey while John Travolta and Uma Thurman dance in the background. You're not watching it though, you're watching the door and hoping, wishing that Steven would walk through it and come running into your arms. Although you've hurt him, you don't think he's cruel enough to bring someone back to your flat to fuck them and so the thought of him not re appearing through the door makes bile rise in your throat.

You're eyes are fighting tiredness when you hear the door click open. You sit up quickly and press pause on the TV. He's back and he's alone. You feel your whole body lighten. And then he looks at you and he looks miserable.

"Thought you'd be in bed by now." He says at you, rather than to you as he takes off his coat.

"Had 8 beers to get through all by myself didn't I?" You reply and he turns up his nose at you, heads to the kitchen. "No Johnny then?" You call behind you, hold your breath for the response.

Steven comes back with a glass of water and sits on the table opposite you. "He's coming later." He says dead pan then smiles a bit as he sees your face. "Just kidding. Don't think my Irish cousin would be too happy with it."

Your lips quirk up slightly until you're mirroring his smile.

"Told him we were pretty inbred if that was the case."

You huff out a laugh and finish the dregs of your beer. "Sorry. I was just…"

"Jealous?"

You gulp and nod. Know there's no use lying because Steven sees all of you. "I can't help it. I want to stop but…"

"I don't." He says, putting down his water and making his way over to you.

"What?"

"I don't want you to stop being jealous Brendan." You notice the twinkle in his eyes, the new found confidence that buzzes along side the alcohol as he sits next to you and crawls into your lap.

You keep eye contact with him while he slowly unbuttons your shirt, trails his fingers through your chest hair. As his arse bobs up and down on your crotch, you strain through your boxers. You don't dare to touch him yet.

"Say it, Brendan."

"I'm jealous. I hate the thought of anyone else touching you. You're mine Steven. All mine."

You see him smile briefly before his lips are over yours and your licking and sucking at him like he's yours to drink. You groan and lift him while he wraps his legs tightly around you. You only part when he comes up for air and he looks at you as you carry him the short distance to your bedroom and throw him on the bed. You slip off your half unbuttoned shirt, never breaking contact with him – his eyes bore into you and see you. The real you.

You watch as Steven stuffs his hands down his boxers while you undo your belt, starts tugging at himself furiously. Your tongue peaks out as you watch his eyes darken with lust.

"Impatient are we?" You ask as you crawl on top of him, dick throbbing.

He gulps and nods, forces out the words "Like you wouldn't believe…" then pulls you down to attack your mouth again. Your force a finger inbetween your lips, get him to suck on it. The noises that he makes shoot straight to your cock.

You push yourself off him, panting and reach into the drawer for your supplies. "By the time I get this on," you say pointing to the condom, "I want you completely naked and on your front, yeah?"

He seems to look to in awe to speak so you lean down and bite his chest, hope to leave a mark, your mark on him. "Understood Steven?"

He licks his lips and nods and he's all fingers and thumbs as he wriggles out of them and turns over.

You prepare him throrroughly, scissor your fingers to get him nice and ready for you. He keens back and calls your name and, boy, he doesn't realise what he's doing when he does that. He looks over his shoulder and tries to rub his dick on your sheets, relishing the friction.

You slap his arse and ask him "You ready for me?"

"Please." He begs. "Please Brendan."

You push into him, slowly at first but he starts to open up to you and adjust to you, pushes himself backwards and lets you close enough to start milking his dick as his muscles milk yours. You collapse at the side of him afterwards, roll the condom off and put it on the side. He smells like you and he smells like sex as he rolls himself into you, kissing the beads of sweat of your chest.

"I needed that." He says.

"I think we both did." You reply as you pull him closer to you, kiss the top of his sticky head. You don't ever intend to let him out of your arms again.

You're the first to wake in the morning normally but as you turn to your side, you find his half of the bed rumpled but empty. You rub your eyes for a moment, tell yourself it wasn't all a dream. You hear clattering coming from the kitchen and throw on a t-shirt and some boxers to cover your modesty.

As you push open the door with a single finger you tilt your head to the side. "You doing the washing up?" You ask and he glances at you briefly, nods. "Now?"

"Well who do you think normally does it Brendan, eh? The washing up fairy?"

"Well, why else is it called fairy liquid Steven?" You reply sarcastically as you step towards him. You can see the tension in his shoulders from here. You reach to touch them but he flinches and moves away from you. You arms fall by your side with a thud.

"Eveything Ok Steven?"

"Yeah." He says quickly. You hear a sigh as he turns around, his eyes open and appealing with you. "Do you regret it?"

You look at him as though he's gone mad.

"Last night." He reaffirms. "Me and you."

"Why do you?" You ask, your stomach sinking.

He closes his lips together tightly and shakes his head. "No."

"Me either." You say with relief.

"I just…I don't want it to ruin things between us. I mean we've been getting on haven't we?"

"Yeah." You breathe, feeling your world being slowly taken from you. "But-"

"Good." He smiles shakily. There's something in his eyes that you can't read. "So that's it. Mates yeah?"

You nod. Can't bare to say the words when you know in your hearts of hearts, your anything but.

…..

You almost forgot your toothbrush. Almost. You open the door, throw your bag back on the floor and head to the bathroom. You see Steven's stuff amongst yours. His cheap hair gel, CK1 aftershave and lynx deodorant. His toothbrush sits itself next to yours and that's why you need to do this. Why you need to get away from him, away from this life of domesisity that you've landed yourself in.

He should still be at the restaurant for another couple of hours so this is why you have to do this now. Go and hope that you'll have the courage to let him go. You throw your toothbrush in your bag and sling it over your shoulder. You take out your wallet and throw a few notes on the table for the bills. And a bit extra just in case he decides to have the kids over.

You make your way to the door to find it opening and Steven standing right in front of you, his eyes full of confusion.

"Bren?" When you gulp, you see his confusion turn to panic. "Is everything alright?"

"Just…" He looks at your bag and then back to you. "I'm gonna go and stay with Chez. I need to get away for a bit."

You can see his head shaking. "But Christmas is in 2 weeks. I thought we were going to spend it together?" He'd presumed, he'd never asked. You liked the idea of it, just you and him. It played into your fantasy.

"Christmas is family Steven. You should spend it with your kids."

It kills you, the way that he's looking at you right now. Which gives you all the reason you need to walk out of the door.

"Brendan?" He shouts as you step outside. You sigh reigned and turn around. "You are coming back aren't you?"

His voice is small and his body is shaking from the cold. You put your bag down and wrap him in your arms, kiss the top of his head and inhale him for the last time. "Merry Christmas Steven."

You've been at Cheryl's for a week and a half now. She drove you mad for the first few days asking question after question about Steven. She stopped asking on the fourth day when you came back from the local drunk and in no mood to talk. You couldn't really remember much but whatever you said to Cheryl that night, it made her stop asking.

You've had a few texts from him. The first on the first night.

Feels wel weird without u here.

The next one came a day after.

Watched Pulp Fiction 2nite. I'll let you off. I'd give it a 30. John Travolta's pretty fit in it too.

That was Steven's way of scoring films. He came up with the system when he was drunk one night. Said he didn't understand why things were scored out of 10. So he decided he'd score things out of 30. 30 was the highest.

The final one came yesterday. 1:23 am.

I miss u. x

Your fingers twitched in reply but your resilience was strong. You had to ignore him. You had to get over him.

When you woke in the morning, it was to hushed whispers outside your door. Cheryl gave you one of those smiles when you got up for breakfast, the one that says 'I understand'. it made your blood curdle.

You didn't do much throughout the day bar play on the x-box with Nate. You barely took your eyes off the screen until you heard a name. His name.

"Oh hi Ste love," You heard her say from behind you. Your finges stopped moving. "Brendan? Yeah he's here."

You dropped the control and turned. You don't even remember shaking your head but something in your eyes told her, no.

"Well, he's in the bath at the minute love." She gave you that look again, the one she'd given you earlier. "Yeah, yeah I'll tell him. Merry Christmas to you too Ste."

You felt tension swim from your body as you turned back to the tv screen. Soon, the screen is black.

"Don't look at me like that." You say as Cheryl stands in front of you, all arms and eyebrows.

"He's worried about you Bren. Says you haven't responded to any of his texts."

"So what if I haven't?" You reply, arms flailing as you stand. "What is he? My wife?"

"Well no but he's…" You watch her stuggle to find the words. It makes your point perfectly.

"Exactly." You say in disappointment. "He ain't nothing Chez."

You pick up your coat from the banister and head to the door. "Hang on, where are you going?"

"For a pint. In peace."

You slam the door and have no intention of returning until the early hours.

….

Slay bells ring, are you listening,

In the lane, snow is glistening,

A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight,

Walking in a winter wonderland.

The music sounds like it's coming from the kitchen. You roll to your to your side and look at the time. 10:30am. Suddenly, you hear a loud knock at your door and your sister come in. You look at her, gauge her reaction to you but when she smiles and jumps on your bed, you know you're forgiven.

"Merry Christmas Bren." She smiles as she cuddles into you.

You kiss the top of her head. "Merry Christmas sis." Then you shout through to the kitchen. "Merry Christmas Nathanial."

"You getting up then?"

You grumble and throw your head backwards onto your pillow. "Yeah, just give us a sec. Gonna get a shower and stuff first."

Eventually you climb out of the shower, dress and shave. Your head is still banging but the smell from the kitchen is starting to help your hangover subside. You ask Chez if you can do anything and when she tells you to set the table for four, you raise an eyebrow with suspicion. She points to a picture at the side of you and you see the frame that is filled of pictures with Nathanial and his mother.

"Don't ask."

So you don't. You don't ask for the rest of the day until the doorbell comes and when you open it, you're met with Steven.

"I didn't know what else to do." His eyes are red and puffy. He looks like he's been crying and despite it all, he looks more beautiful than ever.

You let him in and give Cheryl her own 'don't ask' look as you shepherd him towards the sofa. You notice that you're arm is around his shoulder so you remove it as if you've been burnt and Steven must feel it too because he looks up at you through watery eyes.

"What are you doing here Steven?"

I've missed you, is what you really want to say.

He wipes his eyes and looks up at you through his eyelashes. You fight the urge to kiss each one.

"Amy's getting married." You shoot him a look at confusion. "To that Mickey."

"That's…er… well, normal, ain't it? Boy meets girl. They fall in love, get married and live happily ever after."

You follow the bob of his adams apple as he looks at you. "He's gonna take my kids away Brendan. I know he is. He already booked them a holiday for tomorrow. Disneyland Paris, he said."

Your arms slipped to his knee somehow so you stand up, giving yourself distance.

"So what? You're their da'. They love you, those kids. They couldn't ask for a better dad. No one could."

He sniffs and rubs his face, nose and cheeks red from the cold and crying. "Yeah." He nods. "Yeah. And I already took 'em to Disneyland, didn't I?"

"Yeah." You smile, nudging his chin with your knuckles. You remember that time only too well. "Yeah you did."

"Yeah and it was the proper one. What is it you say Bren? The real deal."

You smile again while Cheryl calls over to you both. "Do yous two want a drink?" You look at Steven who nods shyly so you go over to the kitchen, give Cheryl a hand.

"Is Ste staying for dinner then?"

You put the kettle onto boil and turn so that you can see him. You shake your head. "I don't know. I don't…"

"Well, he might. If you ask him." You look at her with a nervous rumble in your stomach. She's giving you a different look now. A determined one. "Why don't you go and ask him while me and Nate go to pick up his mum."

You take him over a steaming cup of coffee, didn't want to risk a beer because he had car keys in his hands which means he must've driven here. Besides, there's no way he'd have been able to get public transport on Christmas day.

You sit on the coffee table opposite him, dip your head to survey him some more as he blows over the top of his drink.

"Ta." He smiles and you want to smile back but don't. You survey him, take in his every feature and move to sit on a chair at the other side of the room. There's so many thoughts running through your head and with the pounding in your chest, you need time to unscramble them so put the TV on. Some old Christmas movie.

You sit in silence for the first 40minutes until you can't do it any more. Can't watch him from the other side of the room not knowing what's going on in that head of his.

"What are you really doing here Steven?"

He looks at you, startled and shifts his legs that have somehow crept under his body.

"I told you, din'I? Amy and - "

"This ain't about Amy." You say, finding yourself interrupting. "This isn't even about your kids, is it?"

You've got him and he knows it. He looks away, his smile exchanged for a pout. "What kind of dad am I, eh? Running out on me kids on Christmas day for…" He looks at you then and you physically see him gulp.

His eyes are boring into yours – blue and diamond like. "For what?"

You watch his eyes drop to your lips and then you look at his, watch his tongue peak out as he licks them…

"We're back!" Cheryl yells as she bundles her way through the door with Nate and his mother. You watch Steven's stiff body visably relax as he smiles at her. Your eyes don't leave him. "So then Ste, are you staying for Christmas dinner then or…"

He glances at you for your approval and you nod, a half flicker of a smile.

He smiles back at you, wide and then nods eagerly to Cheryl.

….

Nate's taken the old dear back, thank God, so it's just you, Cheryl and Steven slobbed out on the sofa. Steven's had chance to talk to the kids, apologise for leaving so soon but wishing them an amazing time in Disneyland. They way he speaks to them so easily, even after what he's done today, makes your heart swell.

You can't stop looking at him, analysing him, studying him and you're sure you've been caught out because suddenly Cheryl stands up and says she's going to have a lie down for an hour, and that Nate will be a while.

You see Steven's relaxed demeanour physically change and it knocks you off so you busy yourself in the kitchen, do the washing up then give him a beer – Cheryl's already told him that he's staying tonight and you don't want him to leave, so….

You go to sit back in the chair at the other side of the room when you hear his voice. "I don't bite Brendan." He says as he pats the space beside him.

You tilt your head to the side and you don't know if it's the whiskey that's loosening you but you give him a small deveilish smirk. "Now we both know that's not true Steven."

You see him blush and it gives you a thrill.

"Well, I'm not going to bite now, am I?"

You take a sip of your whiskey and nod. Stand up then go and sit beside him.

You're about to fall back into silence again when you hear his voice. "Brendan…"

"Mm?"

As you turn to face him you feel the crush of his lips against yours. You close your eyes and give in, for just a second and then you pull back, try to avoid his eyes.

"Jesus Steven, what…what the fuck was that?"

"I thought that…I thought that you wanted me to."

Your breathing is erratic and you can't stand being this close to him so you stand up, go to the kitchen but then he's there, right beside you.

"Fucks sake Brendan it was just a kiss. It's Christmas and I just-"

"It's Christmas." You laugh mirthlessly. "That's why you did it, yeah? Cuz it's Christmas and your feeling a bit horny."

"No…well yeah…but not just that."

You can't bear to listen to him so you shove your way past him and grab your coat. You can feel him tugging at your arm.

"Wait, where you going?"

"Out."

"To do what?"

You're searching for your wallet underneath all the cushins. Fuck. Fuck.You need to get out of here.

"I know you want me Brendan. I can see it!"

He's right, you do want him, in every sense. The twitch in your trousers in enough proof of that. You could fuck him, all night but then in the morning, what would you be left with? An empty side of the bed and an awkward 'friends' conversation.

Before you know it, you can feel his hands on your back. "You want me, just as much as I want you."

You spin around and shake your head. "Yeah, I want you Steven. But not just for Christmas. I can't be just someone who gets you off whenever you're feeling up for it."

"What?"

"I'd rather never be with you again, than mean nothing. Not…" You cough and look him dead in the eye. "Not when you mean everything."

His eyes are full of confusion and his small body is shaking. "So…so what are you saying?"

You sigh and take his head in your hands, holding him still. "I'm saying that I love you. That I've always loved you. And that I will never stop loving you. Not until the day I die."

"I love you too."

You don't expect that. Despite the looks and the living and the loving each other from a distance, it still shocks you to hear the words.

He places his hands over yours and shakes his head. "And I've always loved you and I'll never stop. Never."

You feel like your heart is trying to break through your chest. You're breathless with his beauty. You're rendered speechless.

"I want to marry you Brendan. And I want to grow old with you and-" Before he can say another word, you've got him up against the wall and your tongue is inside him, saying all of the things you want to. You suck on his bottom lip and bite back a smile as he pulls away for air.

This is the first day of the rest of your lives.