The master bedroom of House 13, Forever Close.
A/N:
This is for Marble Eyes, FranceGLfan and everyone else I've broken the hearts of recently – hopefully this will go some way into making it up to you.
I just wanted to add that this no way means I'm finished with Another Forever, just it has a very angsty plot. And after cannon I needed a little fluff and listening to reviews thats what you guys needed too :)
About this fic:
In 2016 Stendan move into a flat on Forever Close and this fic is set in their bedroom. It's a ficlet told in the final Saturday of each month across 18 months.
Most of cannon happened, but Cheryl didn't shoot Seamus (although he is still dead) and Brendan didn't confess to the police. Cheryl lives in Dublin with Nate, and following (cannon)Dublin Stendan have never been, and will never be, separated. Oh and apparently Mitzeee lives in Manchester too.
Marble eyes said I should write a happy fic for y'all so I produced this. This is going to be three chapters of pure domesticity. I'm aiming for a majority of fluff, but it's Stendan so obviously it's going to be smutty, and it's me so it's not void of angst, as would always be true for their lives together.
This chapter actually seems to be mainly smut, not sure how that happened but I definitely blame the boys. The fluff grows in later chapters!
And there's one bit of nasty angst right in the middle.
Warning:
Usuals – smut and angst.
Please review I love reading your words oh and and if any of you have any ideas for what you'd like a month to be about let me know :)
5.25 am; Saturday 27 August 2016
"Oh God I love it when you talk to me, Steven."
Mr Brady and Mr Hay paid the deposit as soon as they saw the flat's advertised on the internet. From the very first moment they both knew the home on Forever Close was theirs. It is perfect. It has all the touches that Brendan requires for him to even consider it aesthetically pleasing: modern, clean cut, sharp lines; perfectly combined with all the colour and comfort Ste needs to feel at home. It was like someone had designed a house in the style of their lives – the perfect arrangement of them - scally turned homemaker Steven Hay and ex-crim turned boyfriend Brendan Brady. It has four bedrooms - important for when the kids come to stay; and a big master bedroom with an en suite and a shower wet room - important for long weekend mornings when they haven't. The couple moved in five days ago.
The most important thing about this flat is that it is two streets away from Amy's, and they've already talked about Friday night sleepovers and Sunday roast dinners countless times. Leah Barnes informed her mother last night that, at 9, she is definitely old enough to walk to the home of both her Daddys' without any stupid grown-ups; though all her parents have slightly different ideas from her.
Ste's unpacked every last corner of every one of his ten neatly labelled, perfectly stacked, boxes. Despite several attempts to leave Chester without the man who owned his heart he hadn't moved his adult life for a long time. He wanted to make get the task done properly. So he'd looked at several clips on you tube and made six lists before packing. He didn't really want, or need, to give Brendan another chance to have the upper hand – that's his role for life now, ensuring Mr Brady was forever kept in his place, humbly by his love's side.
Brendan was surprised, disappointedly so, that the homemade videos that were keeping his lover up all night weren't more of the adult variety. And, after that incident with the bubble wrap, he quickly realised packing was not a new fetish.
Brendan himself has a completely different notion of packing, and unpacking. His filled-to-the-brim suitcases are still all over the floor in the state they arrived in. Ste doesn't really mind though, he knows he's been keeping the older man overly occupied.
Monday they will unpack. Monday they will find new premises for the deli and club. Monday they will finally arrange a play date with the kids. This weekend, though, they're more actively engaged.
"God I love doing you in this bed."
"Ah Brendan! Ah you feel so good!... Yeah give it to me just like that. Fucking LOVE you."
"Oh scream for me Steven."
Oh yeah, that's the other thing they quite like about the house – adequate sound proofing!
10.30 am and 1.00 pm; Saturday 24 September 2016
"Bren, make us a brew please?... Bren? Brendan?"
Ste swiftly rolls his eyes as he realises why his requests aren't getting any sort of response. The silent treatment. Brendan was more than a decade older than him, but that didn't prevent him from acting the same age as his kids.
"Ah I'm getting proper sick of this now me, are you seriously still not talking to me?! I'm not saying no, not a proper no anyway."
"Well you're not exactly saying yes!"
"I don't remember it being a proper question, asking when you're blissed out after fucking is not the most romantic way."
Ste can't help but laugh a little - if you told him three years ago they'd be having this argument he'd have thought you needed sectioning. He was so entirely not expecting Brendan to ask that last night that at first he thought he'd misheard him. Then, when Brendan paused like he was waiting for a response, Ste decided he needed to start putting limits on the man's alcohol intake, even at happy gatherings – like his sister's wedding yesterday.
Brendan stands in their doorway in nothing but his oversized relaxing-morning boxers, a hand on his muscular hips, and a look on his face that exactly matched Leah's look of petulancy. Ste can't help but laugh louder.
Brendan's pissed, however petty he will feel later. So he arms himself with the defence he knows works even if he's about to tire it out – Douglas.
"So you're saying to make you say yes I need to I get down on one knee? Or would you rather I took you for a romantic weekend to Chester and painted a sign on the club wall?!"
"No, absolutely no!"
Ste sighs. He really doesn't want to upset his love, and this idea of Brendan's was fantastical. But that is the point. It's a pattern. Brendan gets these ideas in his head, like how they should do things together - go on a date, visit a gay club, go on a backpacking holiday around the globe. He goes along with them for a while until Ste's actually building up hope and then he starts to back out. He's been deceptive about it too – especially with the tickets to Australia.
Ste didn't even dare to believe that they were actually going to make the move to Manchester until they arrived, and then he kept thinking he'd wake up without him. It was Brendan's pattern.
And that old defensive pattern originated from a conversation exactly like this didn't it? A conversation about how marriage would be alright. There were other things going on then as well, as there always were in their old lives in Chester, but Ste had felt Brendan pull back as soon as he'd said it.
This idea, now, is what Ste used to hope for so hard. He craved a public celebration of their love like it was an illicit dream. But that was before now. Before now, when all he wants in the world is a lifetime with Brendan - he wants a partnership, not a wedding. A lifetime – not a day.
Ste climbs out of bed, and is pleasantly surprised when the older man doesn't back away from his touch – not really that pissed then. He wraps his arms around those hips. He doesn't expect an answering embrace, yet.
"I love you."
"Hmmm." Brendan refuses eye contact, "just not enough to marry me."
That's what got his goat the most, the fact that Ste would marry someone he didn't truly love in a heartbeat, but he wouldn't marry him - it must mean that Brendan wasn't as important as Ste's ex mustn't it?
"No Brendan, I love you more than you're ever going to realise right -just, we've only been proper together less than four years, innit?"
"Oh yeah course cos you have a suitability for marriage cut off point after four months don't you?"
Ste laughed at the older man's wit, had to concede he did have a point, except-
"You can't just bring up Doug to help you win everything! That wedding was proper rushed and you know it right - and you know why."
Brendan smiles down at his love then, a sort of smile, as he senses their lucky feeling. Thinking about how much they've gone through to be here always makes him feel like he's part of a special love. And those months before the wedding and just after had been the hardest, they were closest he had ever got to hell. He knows Ste thinks they were both aware, on some hidden level, that their conversation about love and faith on the morn of Ste's wedding had nothing to do with the Yank. But he doesn't share that amount of trust. He thinks he's possibly still in a little shock from when Ste turned up in Dublin - he had prepared for a lifetime of deprivation. That was part of why Brendan still expected Ste to wake up and realise he was worth so much more than Brendan's dreams. And that was a big part of the proposal – he'd long ago resolved that if Ste was determined they had to be together, he was going to make it the best time ever, for however long they were granted.
"And it's different for us innit?" Ste smiles. "Cos I proper love you, and you love me too."
Brendan kisses his happiness.
"Anyway, y'know, it aint been that long since-" since that time they don't talk about because Ste forgave Brendan quicker than he should have, and Brendan never once forgave himself. "I mean you've not really done the anger management course yet have you?"
Ste was so proud that Brendan was even trying, that he wanted to try for him. Things are always getting in the way but he still knows that he's entirely safe in the man's embrace. Brendan doesn't have that conviction, feels each time he's failed like a cross against his heart and each memory as a reminder he isn't worth this. He backs out of his boy's embrace, self-hatred causing bitterness to lath his tongue.
"I'm not going to hurt you Steven!"
"I know, I know!... But… look, I'm not saying no right? I'm just saying - one day."
Ste regrets taking them to these memories. He maps a hand over his love's cheek and knows there's only one way of lifting his spirits now.
He keeps his eyes fixed to the man of his deepest dreams and wildest fantasies as he slowly, decadently, walks to their bed.
"So can you come back to bed now?"
Brendan raises an eyebrow as Steven's seduction dances over him. He should be stronger now he gets it on a daily basis. There is a millisecond of time when he upholds a good pretence of not beeign weak.
"Please?" Ste breathes long and drawn out, turning on his heal to expose his arse like Brendan's own secret treasure.
And there will always be one million things Brendan would do for that arse.
***S&B***
"You know three years ago I proper would have said yes and forced you into the nearest registry office within the hour."
"Cut off point!" Brendan says taking that as his proof that his boy was insane.
Brendan had thought about it possibly once or twice over the last year, when he had been happily tuning out from Cheryl's Bridezilla moments. But he honestly didn't know he was going to ask him last night. Everything is instinctive when Ste's released him that much, and yeah he may be soft now, if his instinct is marriage.
"I just don't think this is the best time to talk about it right? We've just moved and opened two new businesses, we're proper broke, and I proper don't want a wedding with you to be rushed, I want us to have everything. Cos this is the last time either of us are ever going to do it, innit?"
"Since when did you get to be the sensible one?" Brendan growls a little vexed.
Ste giggles, thinks of yesterday, and responds, "probably over the last year since you've been getting soft over your sister's wedding!"
"I've told you, I am not getting soft!"
"You bloody cried, you!"
"I had hayfever, Steven!"
"Oh yeah cos you get to 39 and suddenly develop hayfever – happens all the time that!"
Brendan man handles Steven underneath him, sucking at that sass until they both moan again.
"It was a proper nice day," Ste sighs happily – Brendan had given Cheryl away as planned, and Ste had stepped up as Nate's best man at the last minute, it was almost like it was their day.
"Yeah, it was."
"And that's the reason you wanna do this now."
"I can't exactly say walking down that aisle toward you in that incredible tux hurt –" Brendan says, hands and eyes lowering over Ste's tight body. "But I just wanna do this because I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
"I thought we'd agreed to do that anyway, else what was that padlock about?"
"I'm never going to stop asking, you know."
"I can deal with that."
9.00 am; Saturday 29 October 2016
Brendan's eyes flutter in dreams, his lips are pulled into a tight smile. This is Ste's favourite sort of Brendan – the relaxed and natural man he calls 'Bren', or if Ste's really pushing it then 'babe'.
Ste maps the physique of a man that's happily settled and those heaven-like arms that promise eternal strength and protection. He charts the lines of wisdom the last six years have caused and the shades of pepper in his hair. His gaze slides over that mouth that is infinitely kissable and the moustache grown long under request - Dublin long.
Brendan feels a weird almost tickly sensation of something moving across his tash.
"What are you doing right now, Steven?!" He asks, sleep carried in his voice, his eyes still not open.
He smiles as he hears the voice of his love record the history of their love, and an index finger strokes the tash.
"About six years ago I fell for this man who had a proper ridiculous moustache, right. Well, I thought that at the time anyway. It was like one of those handlebar ones y'know like you see in old films, just straight down though. I used to laugh at it occasionally, when he wasn't looking right, which come to think of it was barely ever. But even though it was proper funny it kinda did things to me. I was with some guys after who barely had enough facial hair, and I missed it, me, this tash, it was never quite the same with anyone else. Oh God and like three years ago, when we were back together, he got it into his head to shave it off completely – that was bad times! Cos I like it - the way it feels when he kisses me, and y'know I really like it when he does other things to me."
Brendan opens his eyes for the adorable blush he knows is against his boy's cheeks after those words. He just takes a snapshot of the beloved, preserved innocence, and then closes them again.
"So anyway I guess you could say I've spent years watching it, this tash. And I'm kinda fond of it now, like it's a part of us. It's got it's own memories innit. There was one time when we weren't together, and he went away and came back with a beard. I never got to know what that was like, you know to feel. I proper imagined it enough though – like fantasies, cos it would be like the tash wouldn't it – just more."
"Do you want me to grow it? I would – for you."
Brendan exhales deeply as he feels the exquisite sharpness of Ste's teeth along his jaw.
"I'll think about it - I dunno at the moment right, cos the star attraction is always the tash innit? I've seen it lengthen and shorten, me. I like it when it's proper long, like this. It used to be really dark, but he's older now right so it's actually got some greys."
Brendan's eyes open now, wide and dazed – feigning insulted. His jaw slackens in shock, until he's laughing, and his hand stings against the boy's arse.
"I am not grey!"
"You are a little," Ste teases, mock-serious. "It's alright though, it's proper sexy-"
As the man starts to pout his boy grabs his kiss, forcing his mouth wide with all those tricks he didn't know till there was him.
Ste moves his lips quickly, treasuring the rush of Brendan Brady's star attraction.
As Brendan pulls away, Ste's eyelashes are lowered, his eyes dark.
He's breathless, "fuck! I love the feel of it when he kisses me."
"Really?"
"Hmmm."
"How about when I do this?" Brendan asks before running just the very tips of it over Ste's throat, adam's apple, fluttering pulse point.
"Yeah, hmmmph, that's good."
Brendan places an arm around the boy's waist, supportive in its dominance, and he twists them around. He takes position above his boy to find out where exactly the moustache is liked the most.
1.30 am and 9.30 am Saturday 26 November 2016
"Oh you know what Brendan, this just happened cos you're grumpy. And you're just on at me cos you're grumpy. And you're grumpy cos you're tired so. Go. To fucking. Sleep!"
The words are out of Ste's mouth before he has time to think them through, and he regrets them as well he should. This time of year, around Brendan's birthday, is never great for them. Nightmares of past hurt cover their bed till just a simple touch can be misconstrued like a trigger of abuse. And the prescription pills Brendan takes to get through had multiplied this year. It wasn't until they had a week's long argument about that that Ste knew why – it had been thirty years since the very worst time.
"Great thanks for bringing that one up Steven, really classy of you!"
Ste rolls his eyes. Brendan's nightmares meant that he couldn't sleep at night, and Brendan not sleeping at night meant Ste wasn't sleeping at night. So their house was full of miscommunications and reminders of their own old nasty games.
It was both of them who'd done something this time – Brendan had spent three grand on a new dishwasher without Ste knowing and purposefully had it installed when he was at work. And Ste had swiftly put it up on their joint ebay account, without telling Brendan.
"I'm on at you cos you're fucking over reacting and being fucking ridiculous! It's a dishwasher Steven and you're acting like it's as bad an eightball!"
"Yeah and how long until it is drugs Brendan eh?"
Brendan's eyes taper with disused arguments until his impulse is to punch their cupboard door, and then Ste's eyes really taper. He isn't scared of Brendan's physical displays anymore, thinks the man's actually kind of ridiculous when he does things like that – he will be whining tomorrow.
"I tell you sommit - before you live with someone you really should proper read the small print."
"Oh that's great advice cos you know I'm in the mood for a replacement, being pretty sick of you!"
Those words sting them both and the argument stops like whiplash. The bitter taste of the dark side of their love covers this room. There's nothing but the heavy inhales and exhales of lovers' arguments for long painful minutes.
Then Brendan's eyes close and his jaw clicks as he cowers at himself. He takes a step across the infinite distance separating him from the love of his life.
"Nu-uh - you said that!"
"Yeah well maybe I meant it."
"You're not staying in here tonight!"
"Like I'd want to."
***S&B***
Those words replay in Brendan's head like the very worst lines of a song for hours, not even his favourite music can replace it. The way he hit their cupboard plays in the back of his eyes and he can't even see the television. It's the first night it's anything but his father in his head for two weeks.
Brendan knows he's safe now. But ever since Seamus made his reappearance four years ago, he hasn't slept on their special anniversaries. And this one - that led to a broken rib and… blood, this one is always the worst.
But no matter how strong his inner anguish Brendan has only once taken it out on his Steven. Twice now. The only place he's ever found peace is Ste's embrace and tonight he's taken that away from himself. This is the loneliest night he's ever spent and all they had to do to change events was talk.
Eight hours later he makes a latte with four sugars and brings it into the bedroom he banished himself from.
Ste, who has barely slept either, can feel the man's eyes linger over him but stays unresponsive.
"I'm sorry, Steven." Brendan breathes and the boy can hear the depth behind it.
He feels a cold press of familiar lips against his neck but resists - until Brendan starts to climb out of their bed again.
Brendan relents to the boys grip around his wrist and the look of silent scorn in his eyes. He lets his knuckles be examined mutely.
"Did you sleep?" Ste asks, inspecting the man's eyes.
All Brendan does is shake his head and Ste is drenched in concern. He presses his lips in a sign of forgiveness and laces it with his own apology.
"I wish I could say more than sorry," Brendan offers.
"Shut up about it now. I've already taken the bloody thing off ebay anyway, it's gotta be easier than doing all the fucking dishes right… and you're never gonna replace me Brendan right? And as for me, well I'm going to spend every day of forever loving you aren't I? Me."
11.54 pm Saturday 31 December 2016
Their happy New Year's are swallowed into each other's hungry mouths. Eyes flash as hard aching skin is touched and bodies fit infinitely.
"Ah Bren I proper want you to come in me at midnight."
Ste looks amazing tonight. 'Pop stars' had been Cheryl's idea of a party theme so she could be Marilyn for a night. But tonight, as every other New Year's Eve, even she had to concede that Ste has the best costume.
There were many good looking guys at their party. Ste's young staff and Brendan and Mitzeee's purposefully chosen club eye candy had come as all good looking stars. But Ste's in a pristine grey suit with a thin black tie. And Brendan's wearing a very low buttoned top which displays all that power and thick dark chest hair. And the boys have barely stopped staring at each other, everyone knows they only have eyes for each other.
Before tonight Brendan didn't know he had a thing for Justin Timberlake, even in that SexyBack video everyone claimed was erotic.
Tonight had been full of the boy's longing lingering looks over beer bottles and sways of his arse to the music. And the man's responses of party-inappropriate poses and low long whispers. They've been winding each other up and both are coiled so tightly they could explode. Now, behind closed doors, lustful friction is their only thought.
In the silence of the middle of two songs Ste's hand neglects his silver cane for the sake of a grope of thick muscle - and it clatters to the floor by the door.
"Shut up!" Brendan warns.
Their bedroom lock had broken in the midst of an argument on Christmas Eve so they weren't quite as private as Brendan would usually hope. And if somebody was to walk in they'd get a lot more than they'd bargained for.
When trousers are lost Brendan's hands shift Ste, or Justin, up the wall and the boy's legs wrap the man's hips in possession. Ste jokingly tugs on Brendan's biker helmet – his favourite part of the Glenn Hughes Village People outfit he had dared Brendan to wear. He was pretty sure he wouldn't see Brendan in this, even as the first guests had arrived tonight. So now Ste laughs sassily, triumphantly, until it turns into a long hard whimper as Brendan unites them.
Brendan moves firmly, but gently. He knows he's harder than he has been for a while, bigger, and there hasn't been a lot of time for lube. Alcohol's acted as a relaxant though. In the boy's glowing blue eyes Brendan can see the quick diminishment of the pain to the pleasure of being thoroughly fucked.
Ste hears the play of Millennium – the last song Cheryl wanted to play before midnight.
"We've gotta be quick!" Ste insists, "hard yeah?"
"I'm only going to give you what you can take," Brendan whispers, protective tonight.
"Fuck off Brendan!" Ste insists wanting nothing more than that edge of pain pleasure that the man had owned like an instinct from the very first touch.
He wants to come for another year spent with the man of his dreams.
And he knows the words that are going to make the man really give it to him, "I wanna use the cuffs later."
Predictably, responsively, Brendan jerks his hips hard and Ste's moan echoes loud through the air.
"You've gotta be quiet," Brendan says dominantly, like a threat, and Ste feels lust pull every muscle. "Think you can handle that?"
Brendan doesn't wait for the answer, presses his mouth wide against his boys, tasting a cocktail of shots, absorbing a mixture of moans.
The countdown starts and Brendan fulfils the boys request perfectly. He fucks him hard and fast, and growls as he feels the boy's muscles swallow and grasp his naked cock.
Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven.
Brendan shifts Ste's legs further up his back, shifting in deeper and tilts to that angle he's memorised for an eternity. He senses the exact moment Ste's moans become a little too uncontrollable and pushes the boy's head into his shoulder, allows his skin to be bitten. Prompts his Steven's wildness because there's nothing that makes him feel so good.
Six, Five, Four, Three.
Brendan loves the way Steven Hay comes, always has done. The shy boy turns into this wild, erotic creature, and swears like his pretty little mouth is the dirtiest fucking thing Brendan has ever witnessed. Ste in this moment is unbeatable, un-missable, irreplaceable.
Two.
So when Brendan says, "come for me," it's with a soul-desired urgency.
One!
And when Ste's inner muscles pull at Brendan's cock, and his seed slashes hard and wet, Brendan comes too because he can't control it.
"IFuckingLoveYouUGHSteveeeen," he climaxes with a declaration of his love.
Happy New Years are panted into glowing skin.
"Never knew Glenn Hughes had such a thing for Justin Timberlake," Ste laughs as soon as he can talk. Brendan just presses a groan against the boy's shoulder bone.
Usually these days they kiss for hours as they cool together - Ste's trained Brendan to like it like that. They don't have time for that tonight, and they know it, but they still kiss through the older man's after tremors.
Brendan refuses to let Ste from his grasp. The room resounds with their whispers - declarations of true, never felt before, love; New Year's resolutions of no more arguments; and lifetime promises of eternity.
These loving whispers fill all the spaces between them and so the miss the call of, "you in here boys?"
Cheryl Crowe, Anne Minniver, Mitzeee or whatever she's calling herself tonight, sheds exposing light on the lover's private tryst. She makes an unnecessarily loud noise of disgust, acts like she hasn't caught them at it in the club twice in the three months.
"Just give us a minute Anne, yeah?" Brendan asks.
The alcohol in Ste's system makes him giggle at Brendan's look of horror and Brendan can't resist a taste of his true love's happiness.
"I swear to God," he whispers when they're alone again, "next year we're doing this night just the two of us, or I'll make you pay."
11.12 am Saturday 28 January 2017
Brendan coughs as last week's dirty sock hurtles its way over his book and balances precariously on his glasses - the toe dangling onto his tash.
"I'm not saying ought Brendan right, but you live like a right pig! You proper don't know how to take care of yourself do you?!"
Ste's been away for two weeks, covering for the newly married Doug McQueen in their Chester Deli, and Brendan's pretty certain he missed him. He can vaguely recall doing something that felt like that anyway.
"If you expect me to hoover for you you've got another thing coming, and there is mould growing on mould by the sink! What's that about eh? How many times did you even cook and we even have a fucking dishwasher!"
Brendan laughs as Ste's rant continues; the boy's so lost in his words that he is easily surprised by Brendan's mischievous hands. The man's licentious movements leaving him flat out on his back.
Brendan climbs over Ste dominantly curving, trapping his body against the red bed sheets, silencing him into lust.
"You make the world's best housewife, Steven Hay, you know that?"
"That's supposed to make me want to marry you, is it?" Brendan's pleased, surprised but pleased, by Ste's acknowledgement of their uncompleted proposal. "Cos it's not proper convincing."
It's been three months since Brendan's last serious prompt, so this unexpected reference means the dream has been on the boy's mind as much as it's been on his own. Brendan is thankful of anything that makes Ste think they could get married, even if it's that bloody stupid Yank.
Brendan nears his boy, breathes him in like he did in the old days. Even though he's had him eight times since Ste came back twelve hours ago he craves him badly, like he did back then. His life's been far too empty and needlessly quiet without him.
"Don't you worry, I have other persuasion tactics up my sleeve," he whispers his accent licking around each word as he suggests sins.
"Sure about that?"
Brendan can see straight through Ste's act of defiance, can see the glow of their infinite fire on his freshly showered skin.
"Oh yeah."
"Oh…Ah, Brendan!"