A/N: Four chapters long, each chapter is a little M (though not as M as my other Stendan fic).
Set just after Cheryl leaves Brendan post Lindsey's murder, think waking up with baseball bat ;).
Thanks so much for all the loveliness for my other fic, you guys are awesome :D Please let me know what you think of this.
Chapter One:
The moment the door is opened Ste's breath is taken into the disconsolate air. Brendan looks a shadow of his former self, his hair dishevelled; the faint lines of that protruding beard are prominent against his bleached skin. His eyes are darker than black, a richer ebony than Ste had ever seen. Ste feels his chest ache. Brendan is broken.
"What are you doing here Steven?"
Ste exhales quickly, even Brendan's voice sounds fragile. But if he is damaged, it is his eternal duty to fix him. Instantly he knows what the man needs, and it's answered by a long held tension somewhere deep inside him.
"Can I come in?"
Brendan watches as Ste's lips press together. The boy is nervous but determined and Brendan feels his breath tug. His shifting body impulsively creates Ste's space beside him.
"What are you doing here?" The second time the question is asked it's softer, eased by them.
"I wanted to make sure you were alright, Y'know after Cheryl-"
"I'm fine." Brendan bites instantly frustrated.
"Sure you are!" Ste mocks and Brendan's anger is taken into a smile as the boy barely pretends to listen to the lie.
"Where's Joel?"
"With Theresa."
"So you're here by yourself?"
Ste asks the question because he needs to know that somebody is looking out for Brendan, somebody that the man trusts to let into his life, if there was anybody like that! But he can't break away from the sight of that crooked smile spreading across those lips.
"Would you like me to be?"
Ste can't help a mirroring smile on his own lips. Brendan could be at the darkest of days and still find the energy for flirtation.
"Brendan." The exasperated breath doesn't feel real, even to Ste.
Brendan's palm presses the door closed behind Ste. Ste's fingers bite into the palm of his hand, his knuckles furl, just in case. But he doesn't make an effort to move away; a fact that isn't missed by either man, as their bodies slot together like jigsaw pieces.
"Why are you so interested?"
"I'm worried about ya."
Bodies moving on instinct, they stand toe to toe against the door.
"We've had this conversation already Steven."
"I know…I don't think it was finished though."
Brendan shifts slowly, ever so slowly, closer to the boy.
"What more would you have said?"
Ste sighs, "that I want to help."
"You said that then."
Ste's jaw tightens as Brendan's power encroaches, enveloping like darkness. It's scary, like he's standing perilously close to the edge of a dangerous cliff. But no cell resists it, he longs for it, has hungered for it for weeks. Anyway, this is the only way he can make it all seem better, so then he has no choice.
"Anything else?" Brendan asks, his voice growing low.
"Is there anything you would have said?"
"What would you have liked me to say?" Brendan plays.
Ste sighs, the pattern of their questions proving that it's all just a game to Brendan and they both know who the winner will be. Ste might have had the upper hand in one round, but he is always going to give it all away to the Irishman.
Brendan mistakes the momentary flinch in Ste's smile. The slight movement is all he needs to remind him of the last month, of Ste's actions, and that bloody letter. Brendan backs away from the boy, knowing that he can't take an inch of rejection, not right now, not from Ste.
"Why are you really here Steven?"
Brendan's absence shivers cold throughout Ste. He speaks quickly, with words he's practised in dreams this last week.
"The way I see it, you need help just as much as the rest of them, you just can't ask for it. So here I am, offering it."
The words wrap around Brendan's heart like poison, causing his body to shift around to face Ste. His jaw tenses as he feels that all-consuming loss of control that lingers around the boy, God how he craves it.
"What exactly are you offering?" He asks slowly.
It's the look in the boy's eyes that pulls him closer. Like a magnet to an inevitable and certain force.
"Steven?" Ste trembles as Brendan's tongue caresses his name with Irish tones.
As Ste whispers, "anything," they both know he means everything.
Brendan steps closer and Ste embraces the passion, the need to cling to every moment. Brendan's eyes fixate on that mouth that has promised so much. His senses latch onto every little sign of Steven; just so he can make everything else feel like it doesn't matter. Just so he can feel like he doesn't have to be responsible for everything. Just so he can get a moments peace from the drums inside his head – protection, bang, failure, bang, revenge, bang, hatred, bang, fear, bang bang bang.
As Ste speaks steadily, slowly each word reverberates through the older man.
"Whatever. You. Need."
At first they stand paused in silence. Lust moves slowly across absence. Ste can feel each breath the man makes, each exhale brushing his lips. He dissolves in the heat coursing from Brendan's firm body, travelling the whispers distance between them, and rushing through him.
The kiss starts slowly, flames licking around them, tasting, tempting. Just a lip's movement against a lip. A prick of moustache, a parting of a mouth, a trap of a breath. And then a tongue meets another, a slow flicker. It's just a taste. A flavour of whisky, of sugar, of them. Until they are truly on fire. It's Brendan's moan that does it. He doesn't mean to let it go, never wanting to show just how much the boy means, but it's pulled by an artful tongue that knows him too well.
Ste latches onto Brendan's moan like the best treat he's ever been given. Like always, instantaneously desperately greedy. He grabs at Brendan's belt, pulling them closer together. His hands sliding over that perfect arse. Lost in them.
Brendan grips at Ste's shirt. Freed in the passion of them his hands work fast - his movements almost simultaneous as he pulls the hem from his belt and undoes the bottom buttons. He presses against the boy, needing. He groans as he feels how hard Ste is, already, his desire for him flagrant. On impulse, Ste's stance widens and instantly Brendan's between his thighs. Causing that mind shattering friction. Another moan, though neither man knows where it comes from. It's just too good to be back here.
Ste's body moves supply around the older man. Brendan can feel every ripple of each touch, as Ste's muscles tighten and flex, and he writhes against the door. This is all Brendan's wanted, dreamed of, craved, for so long. To hide his smile, he pulls Ste's bottom lip between his teeth. Ste is putty in his hands, giving him whatever he wants because he knows it's good.
Brendan's nails dig into the boy's hips, practically lifting him up. Then one hand pins him against the door, as the other works the buttons on his work shirt. But Brendan's movements fumble as his mind dominated by their passion. Then Ste grabs each lapel. He bursts the shirt apart as the buttons pop into Brendan's living room. Brendan lifts his head away, taking in the grin on the boy's face, evidently proud of the licentious action, palpably lost from just one kiss.
Brendan's gaze shifts, drinks in every inch of Ste's thudding chest, because he is starved for him. God he's beautiful. The slight muscles beneath the surface of gorgeously tanned skin. He can practically taste the salt of his skin after hours of passion, their memories always within his reach. When their gaze clashes together Brendan presses a hand against Ste's lower abdomen. Running up against the flesh that's struggling for breath; nails scratch a hardened nipple. Ste's eyelids flutter shut, and he lets his moan come loud and hard, knowing exactly the way Brendan likes it. He needs to give the man everything he could want; he needs to be the only one he is thinking about, even for a stolen moment of time. Brendan feels lust pool hard in his core, and moves quickly for the next kiss.
It's heaven, blissful poison, until one word shatters between them.
"No."