"Seriously?"
"What?! This film's decent!"
"Fine, whatever makes you happy, Steven." I sincerely doubt that watching The Notebook is going to make either of us happy. It always makes him cry like a baby - even after all these times and it's hardly my type of movie, not enough violence and sex for my liking but I'm willing to compromise if it shuts him up for a few minutes. Besides, I know it's his favourite. And Ryan Gosling's pretty fit. Got nothing on Steven of course, but at least it's something to look at. "Want a drink? Oi've got popcorn!" I cringe just saying it, it sounds so ridiculous, like we're a couple of teenagers going to the movies on our first date. "Popcorn? Ain't you got any haribos?" Such a child. I roll my eyes affectionately and kiss him on the head as I drag myself off the sofa and go and rake through the cupboards to see what I can find. They're practically bare - no wonder he's so skinny. That'll have to change now that I'm living here; takes more than a few slices of bread and a tin of baked beans to satisfy my appetite. Mind you, Steven's doing an alright job.
"You're in luck!" He catches the packet of haribos I found tucked down the back of the cupboard, one of many bribes to get Leah to do as she's told that had been abandoned when she left. I try not to think about it and I settle down next to him, arm thrown over his shoulder his head on my chest. He's already munched his way through half the packet by the time the trailers have finished. His musical giggle vibrates next to my ear and I turn to see that he's got a haribo ring on each finger. Just like Lucas used to do. I sigh and shake my head, pretend that I'm not amused and he holds his hand out for me to kiss, like he's the king and I'm his loyal subject. Cheeky, but accurate. My teeth bite down on the first ring and I tear it off with ease, ignore his sound of mock annoyance that I've stolen his sweet. My tongue wanders to the next finger but doesn't make it to the ring as I playfully suck his index finger. His tongue darts out of his mouth, thinks I don't notice him licking his lips and he looks away in embarrassment when he realises that I did. I suck a little harder before working my way down and wriggling the ring lose. I kiss him and he opens his mouth, allowing me to transfer the sweet onto his tongue. He smiles in delight and I can't tell what he's more pleased with - the kiss or the sweet. His head rolls onto the back of the sofa and he closes his eyes as I continue to suck and remove the rings until only one is left. He opens his eyes, a disappointed scowl on his face when he realises that I've stopped. "Eh, Bren? You missed one!"
He points to his ring finger. "Maybe I want that one to stay there."
"Eh?" He looks at me like I'm speaking a foreign language.
"Oi've lost ye too many times already.. Oi'm not gonna lose ye again." The silence that follows is suffocating and I wonder if I actually said it out loud. I subconsciously hope that I didn't. I shouldn't be starting this because once I do there's no going back.
"Are we actually having this conversation?" His eyes are wide and sparkling and confused and I wonder what I'm doing, fooling myself. Why would someone as beautiful as him want to be with me?
"Look, Steven. Oi'm sorry if its too soon after Douglas but…I…I love ye. I always have..and..and I…I wanna marry you." He freezes as if I've just hit him. I instantly regret it. It's too soon. My eyes burn a hole in the carpet, can't bear to look at him and see the rejection in his expression. Why would I risk ruining this? Everything was perfect. He's perfect. And I've just scared him off for good. I reluctantly raise my gaze to study his face but it's set in an expression of shock and terror.
"Get down on one knee then."
"What?" Really?
"Do it properly." He must be joking. I'm Brendan Brady. I don't do romance. It's not who I am. Then I remember who I am. A freak, a criminal, a murderer. He deserves so much better. But then I look at him, really look. I see his face, and in it I see Leah and Lucas. I see us, baking bread together. Us, in Dublin. Him, making me into the man we both want me to be. Suddenly I've never been surer of anything in my entire life. This is who I am now.
"Steven Hay." I'm immediately aware that these trousers are far too tight to be kneeling in but I continue anyway. "I love ye, Steven. Forever. I can't live my life without ye. I want to give you the future you deserve. Will you marry me?"
The wind is knocked out of me as he flies off the sofa and throws his arms around me, hurling me backwards onto the floor and landing on top of me. "Oh my god, yes!" When the shock wears off, I try to kiss him but he's smiling too much to allow me a proper taste. I can no longer tell if its just the hug that's left me breathless or if its him. My arms reach around him but he squirms away and stands up, looking like he's resisting the urge to dance or jump for joy. He bites his lip, the way he does when he's trying to stop himself screaming my name before he comes. "You alright?" I pull myself up from the floor, go and stand beside him, not touching just watching.
"Yeah. I'm excited aren't I?' I'm getting married!" He throws his arms out and spins round in delight. "To Brendan Brady!" He screams, giggling like he can't really believe it. That makes two of us then.
The pop makes him jump a meter of the bed and I can't help but laugh at the panic on his face. I really shouldn't. I can't blame him for being a bit jumpy after everything he's been through. "Champagne. Thought we should celebrate." He kneels on the bed and reaches out, beckoning me to come to him. "Not like you to drink champagne." His fingers run under my collar and trace my neck lightly.
"Special occasion, innit?"
"Is it?" He teases, moving his fingers down to unbutton my shirt.
"Get engaged every day, do ye?" I duck my head and give his jaw a playful nip with my teeth, punishment for being so cocky.
"Not to a sexy Irishman, no." He winks and I feel him press himself against me. I gravitate towards him, unable to stop myself being drawn to him like my life depends on being as close as I can be.
"And oi'm marrying a council-rat in a tracksuit. I must be mad." That does it. He grabs me by the shirt and pulls me onto the bed, kissing me harder than I thought lips as soft and pink as his were capable of. I shrug out of my shirt, reluctant to break the kiss. Nails dig into my back and I feel myself already hard and anxious to become one with him in every way. He looks me up and down and I'll never get used to that look, the lust in his eyes, the love, like he wants me, like I'm actually important to him.
It still amazes me that someone so skinny and soft can be so strong, how he takes me by surprise, flipping me over so that he's suddenly straddling my hips, grinding his hard dick against mine. I wish I could hide my arousal but if even if my body didn't give me away the grin on my face would. I can't hide anything from him, not anymore. He pins my arms above my head and bends down to drag his tongue up my neck and suck at my earlobe. His name escapes my lips, murmured into his jaw. Lightly, his fingers trace a vein up my arm until they lace with mine and we stay completely still for a minute: just holding hands and looking into each others eyes, a thousand unspoken 'I love you's conveyed in a single look.
The tender moment doesn't last long. I've already shown him too much of my soft side today. I need to remind him who's boss. Suddenly he's under me, lips parted slightly, chest heaving in anticipation. Our hips are still grinding together as I pull his t-shirt over his head. It leaves his golden hair ruffled and I wonder how he can look more attractive the less presentable he becomes. You'd think I'd sculpted his body myself, the way his contours fit so snugly into my eager hands. I run them up and down his chest, which seems larger and more solid now it's free from the confines of his shirt. Fingers pull hurriedly at my belt and I help him discard my trousers, can't believe that I still have them on. Soon, we're both completely naked and I can't prolong this any longer.
He tastes sweet and salty as I wrap my lips around the tip of his cock, circling the head with my hot tongue. I feel a hand tangle in my hair, pushing me down, deeper. I take him in willingly, right to base and shut my eyes. The irresistible whimpers and groans he's making turn me on almost as much as the feeling of his cock at the back of my throat as I lick and suck harder at his command. He tenses as I massage a finger around his hole, as though he doesn't think his body can take such pleasure from more than one place at once. We both know from experience that he can more than handle it.
He comes quicker than I expected, barely have time to slip a second finger in before the warm fluid is squirting down my throat, the only piece of him that I can truly take inside me and keep there. I'm not finished with him yet though. I'll never be finished. He clutches me tight as I scatter kisses along his thighs, stomach, abs until he kisses me back, tasting himself on me. I always found that a little disgusting, but he seems to like it, as though he knows exactly how delicious he is. I don't think he really has any idea, though. I could happily spend all night just kissing him, a kind of intimacy I crave with him that I detested with everyone else. But my dick is impatient and I have to oblige. Sitting up, I hook his legs over my shoulders and he flashes that blinding grin at me, the sudden rush of cold air between his parted cheeks forcing an adorable gasp from his throat. He reaches over for the lube and condom and throws them at me. "Patience, Steven." I tut playfully, but really I'm just as desperate as he is. Lathering myself up quickly, taking care to make sure he's covered too, I grab the condom and tear it open with my teeth. I vaguely recall someone telling me that it's a dangerous way to do it but when you have someone as sexy as Steven spread beneath you, waiting to be fucked, all sensible thinking is completely abandoned. The bed shakes as I slide into him, the heat and tightness of his arse sending shivers right through me. We've done innumerable times and yet its still just as exciting, just as passionate and raw as the first time. More so infact, because then it was just sex, and now its everything. He strains his hips back, fucks me before I have a chance to get started, trying to take control again. Naughty. I push him down and he lands face first into the pillow with an arousing "umph" that I reward with a bite on his shoulder. Lowering myself so that my chest is pressed to his sweaty and tanned skin, I kiss his neck, between his shoulder blades, anywhere that my lips can reach. My hips thrust instinctively, building a steady rhythm until his moans tell me that I'm hitting the right spot. He reaches down, starts jerking himself off and I let him indulge himself, all thoughts of power and control completely erased by the sensual feeling shooting up my cock and into my heart. Someone who can make me feel this special can have anything they want. Deserves anything they want. I notice that he's biting his lip, stopping himself from crying out. Habit, from not wanting to wake the kids. "It's okay." I whisper, lips pressed to his ear. "You can scream now." A moment of pain flashes through his arms as he remembers and I immediately regret reminding him of what he's lost. To make him forget, I arch my back and push into him with everything I have: deeper, more desperately than before. Somehow our bodies are so in sync that we come together and it seems momentous. We're together in every way now. Engaged.
He's hot, sticky, sleepy as he snuggles into his crook under my arm. Where he's supposed to be? "Are you sure you wanna do this, Steven?"
"I do." He says it with such certainty that I almost believe him.
"Practising already?" I'm actually excited. I should be scared, but for the first time since I can remember, I'm not.
