He was aware in the middle of the night of a movement in the bed. A breeze of cold air that surrounded him. A figure wriggling in the darkness, as if trying to get comfortable. He kept his eyes closed, attempting to block it out. He'd been working at the club till the early hours, and really wasn't in the mood to be woken. Fatigue weighed him down, and he tried to turn his face and his body away from the intrusion. But there were hands on him, surprisingly strong and warm, keeping him in place. Hands that somehow felt familiar, soft, because all of him was soft, like satin. He smiled, enjoying the sensation, allowing it to overtake him.
Then a pair of lips. Hesitant at first, as if just teasing, testing. Puckering the skin on his thighs, so that he heard a small sucking sound. Then more sure, more firm, climbing closer to his groin, his nose bobbing against his dark pubic hair, his lips on his cock. The perfect early morning wake up call.
Brendan brushed aside any thoughts of sleep, and sat up gently in the bed, making sure that he didn't push away the man beneath him. He rested his head on the wall, and his eyes closed shut again lazily under the pressure of the boy's actions.
Fuck, he was good at this. Making him disintegrate at the seams. Turning his legs into jelly. Forcing him to grip the sheets and try to stop himself from coming too soon. He was tempted to look under the covers and see his head down there, his bambi eyelashes fixed on his cock, the golden face going backwards and forwards, long ago having got over the fear of gagging.
But he knew there would be no way of holding out if he did. Any thoughts of the boy's beauty and hold over him vanishing now they were together had proved impossible. Most days he either spent his time thinking about how best to get him on his own, or how he could invent reasons to keep him in his bed for longer. Sometimes they would just doze, lying in the four poster at noon on one of the boy's rare days off from the deli. They'd be flush against one another, Ste's cheek resting against the hair on Brendan's chest, reveling in the fluffiness of it, the way it tickled lightly against his skin. Brendan would subconsciously stroke Ste's arm in soothing, circular motions.
When Ste felt Brendan's stomach rumble, he'd reluctantly disentangle himself from his arms, and pad down the stairs two at the time, being as fast as possible in order to get back into bed quicker. He'd rustle up an omelette or a big bowl of steaming hot pasta for them both, and then bound up the stairs again, Brendan awaiting him, patting the space in the bed that he had vacated, a silent sign for Ste to join him again. They'd eat together, Ste never failing to laugh at the way in which Brendan devoured the food, groaning more than usual, his boyfriend's food being that much more better than anyone else's. Brendan would watch as Ste took little nibbles at first, then large mouthfuls, ending by licking his hands clean in a way that never intended to provoke, but which always did.
The bowls and the cutlery would land on a heap on the floor as Brendan would press his body against Ste's, his muscles rubbing against the boy's chest, falling back onto the bed, their mouths reliving the tastes and flavours of the previous meal. Brendan was often amazed by the boy's need for him, even after all this time. The way Ste would mold his body against his, the perfect fit, straddling his hips, his mouth crushing against Brendan's.
It was becoming a regular occurrence, waking up and finding Ste spread eagled under him, making Brendan's body raise off the bed, forcing him to bite down on his lip so as not to wake the whole house up.
He slowly thrust into Ste's mouth, and heard the boy give an appreciative moan, his hand fondling the base of Brendan's cock.
Just when Brendan's head was beginning to slump forward, his insides melting, he felt the loss of Ste's mouth, and saw him wriggle up in the bed, until they were face to face. Ste's lips were spit slicked, and he was looking incredibly pleased with himself.
"Why did you stop?" Brendan tried to prevent his voice from sounding desperate, but he had to resist the urge to guide Ste's face back down towards the end of the bed.
"I need to talk to you, Bren."
"Less talking, more of that, please," he said, looking down at his crotch.
"I'm serious. There's something I need to tell you."
Brendan felt suddenly uncomfortable. Ste was struggling to meet his gaze, and the cold air that had enveloped him when Ste had pulled back the covers felt more pronounced. Goose bumps had risen on his arms.
"Go on, then." He tried to sound braver than he felt.
Ste fiddled with his fingers, eyes darting everywhere.
"Well, see, the thing is...it wasn't planned or anything, and I would have told you if I'd known sooner, but then everything happened real quickly, and I didn't know what to say, and -"
"Steven." Brendan placed his hands on the boy's shoulders to calm him. "What is it?"
He saw that large and delicious Adam's apple of his bob up and down as Ste swallowed.
"I have to go away."
Brendan immediately felt his hands clench, a tick forming in his cheek.
"Go away?" The words were like tar in his throat.
"Just for a few days!" Ste said hurriedly, in a rush to get it all out. "With Amy. Her dad's ill - Mike, you remember me mentioning him? He doesn't really have anyone else, not since Sarah died. We're taking the kids with us."
Brendan could feel Ste's desire to explain himself, and felt a pang of guilt. He didn't want him to feel scared around him, or like he couldn't do what he wanted. Was he really that transparent, that Ste knew that the thought of being away from him made Brendan feel like he was being torn in two, severed in half?
"It's only in Manchester. I'll call the minute I get there, yeah?"
Brendan hated the thought that Ste knew how badly it got to him.
"It's fine, Steven. I think I can survive without you for a couple of days."
He turned away from Ste, lying against the pillow, blocking his eyes against the boys face. If he was going to be without him, he would have to start getting used to it.
There was silence. Brendan wondered whether he'd gone downstairs. He realised then that it would be the first time he hadn't slept with him since they'd been together. Every night was spent here at the flat, or at Ste's place. Brendan couldn't stand the thought of being away from the warmth of him, not watching the rise and fall of his chest when he woke up.
Then he felt a shift in the bed, and let out a breath in spite of himself, his relief that Ste was still with him palpable.
"It's just..." He heard the uncertainty in the boy's voice. "I know it sounds pathetic, but I don't really like being without you."
Brendan listened closely.
"It makes me feel...I don't know. When I'm not with you, it doesn't feel good. Like something's...missing. You know?"
He knew.
Brendan sighed, and rolled over in the bed once more, finding Ste propped up, his brow crinkled. He looked so fragile that Brendan's arms immediately went around him, pulling him closer. Ste nestled against Brendan's chest.
"Why didn't you tell me? I could have come with you."
"Amy only found out the other day. She booked tickets last minute."
"I could still come."
"You've got Joel's big club night, remember?"
Brendan scoffed. "What, Scottish Foxy's attempts to bring a touch of class to the place by making it gangsters and molls night? We've had enough trouble in there for real, don't you think?"
"Maybe. But he needs you."
"Playing nice now, are you?"
Brendan couldn't help but be surprised. He spent a great deal of his time trying to break up arguments between Ste and Joel, walking in just as Ste was pointing a piece of kitchen equipment at his head in a threatening manner - well, as threatening as someone could be with a whisk - and attempting to keep the peace when Joel tried to hog the Nintendo.
"Well, he looks up to you, doesn't he?" Ste didn't sound particularly happy about this idea. Brendan had the strong suspicion that he was only saying it to give him something to focus on while he was away.
It wasn't working.
"When are you leaving?"
"Tomorrow." Ste leaned over Brendan's body to grab the alarm clock. "Well, technically today."
"Steven!"
"I didn't know how to tell you."
A thought suddenly came to Brendan.
"So that's what all that was about before?"
"All what?"
"Sucking me off. Your attempt at buttering me up, eh?"
Ste at least had the good sense to look guilty.
"Well, it wasn't all for that..."
Instantly he had that familiar glint in his eye.
"And I didn't finish, remember?"
He crept closer to Brendan, pulling the covers down over him once again.
"Don't think you're going to distract me."
Ste smiled at him, and Brendan's annoyance was difficult to keep up when Ste was making his intentions clear, muffled snuffling sounds coming from beneath him, Ste's mouth having the remarkable ability of making him feel better almost instantaneously.
Brendan concentrated on the feel of the boy, and tried to relax his muscles. His stomach felt clenched and uncomfortable.
I don't want him to go. I need him safe. I can keep him safe.
After he came, Ste settled down beside him and Brendan recognised his soft breathing as the sound of sleep. Brendan stayed awake, clutching the boy to him. He hated feeling so exposed and vulnerable, his need for Ste laid out for the world to see. Time was when he'd been able to lock it away, cast it adrift, destroy it with violence and manipulation, detachment and coldness. It almost seemed simpler, when he was pushing Ste away. If he was the one doing it, then it hurt less. The thought of Ste one day leaving him of his own accord terrified him. Even worse was the idea of someone taking Ste from him. He was reminded of Danny Houston, lying in the ground, a casualty of Brendan's love for the boy. He wasn't proud of it, but he'd do it all again if he had to. In a heartbeat.
He knew that Ste wouldn't be alone, that there wasn't any concrete threat this time. He'd be with Amy, her dad and the kids. But Brendan once again had that same old sinking feeling that he was being closed off from a family who he very much wanted to be a part of. He imagined himself sitting with Ste on the train, listening patiently and indulgently as he stared out of the window, pointing at all the places he and Brendan could visit one day. He imagined buying the kids magazines and sweets for the journey, and watching with pride as Ste took care of them. Even the thought of Amy staring at him disapprovingly and with obvious dislike didn't put him off.
But it felt like a door that was shut to him, and he had no idea how to open it.
Dodger was late, as usual. Amy had told him the time she was leaving well in advance. What she hadn't told him was that she was in fact leaving an hour later than she had informed him. That way, she was at least guaranteed a kiss before she next saw him.
She looked over at the kids to distract herself. Ste was playing with them, but she couldn't help but notice that he was looking pretty distracted himself. Every few seconds or so she'd catch him glancing up and scanning about the street, as if looking for someone, or something.
It was when she heard a pair of shoes on the pavement that she turned, and found out what that something was.
It wasn't Dodger.
She watched as Ste ran up to him, a coy expression on his face. A part of her wanted to move away, out of earshot, but she remained rooted to the spot. Ste and Brendan's relationship continued to disturb and fascinate her in equal measure. It was something about their past, the way Ste was drawn to him, the way that Brendan transformed when in the presence of her best friend, as if under some kind of spell. She couldn't approve of it, but part of her longed to understand it.
"Sorry, I slept in. I didn't sleep well last night," Brendan said, a twinkle in his eye.
Flirting: Brendan Brady style. She wasn't sure what to think of that.
She watched in shock as Ste took hold of Brendan's hand, clasping it for a moment before letting it go. Then he slowly leant forward, softly kissing Brendan, both their eyes staying closed after their lips had stopped moving, like they wanted to prolong the moment.
She'd only seen them kiss twice in her life. Once when she first found out about them. It had all been tongues, stroking hands and bare, raw desire in the cellar, an intimate moment that she had interrupted.
The second time had been at the Savage's summer party. She'd been working at the deli's stall at the time, and had been shaken, shocked beyond belief when she'd seen Ste kiss Brendan, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, as if they did it every day. She'd seen it then, that same hunger that seemed to possess them, that no one else could ever quite touch.
It hadn't been long before she'd found out that it had all been some bizarre game that Ste had come up with. Some so called bright idea that was designed to get Brendan away from him and Doug for good.
So much for that.
She'd watched helplessly as Brendan and Ste got closer. What started as fleeting conversations in the village, conversations as mundane as what special Carter and Hay were doing that day, to more sober exchanges on how Cheryl was getting on after Lynsey's death, had developed slowly into something more, something that Amy desperately wanted to stop, but couldn't conceive of how she possibly could.
She saw that old look of Ste's returning. The look that said that Brendan was in his orbit, that he filled up his vision until he was all he could see.
She'd catch him singing to himself in the mornings. Watch as he stared off into the distance, a crooked, satisfied smile on his face. He'd check his phone more often, grinning down at whatever it was he saw, his tongue sticking out from between his teeth. Mentions of Doug became less and less, and one day her curiosity got the better of her. She knew she shouldn't have done it, but she'd had a terrible sense of urgency, the sense that if she was going to act, it would have to be fast.
Looking at his phone as Ste was in the shower one day, Amy felt a sinking feeling in her gut as she discovered the hundreds of messages, both sent and received, that Ste had kept. She was surprised that he hadn't deleted them straight away, for fear of her or Doug finding them, but then she supposed Ste never had been particularly ashamed of his feelings for Brendan. She remembered at the start, when he'd tried to hide his new mystery man from her. Yes, he'd been shy and secretive. But there had also been an element of pride there. A silent suggestion of happiness that made Ste's face light up. She had realised that whoever this man was, he was someone who meant a lot to him. They were in love territory, that was for sure.
If the way they were looking at each now was anything to go by, they still were.
"I'll miss you."
She listened intently for Brendan's reply.
Please don't reject him. I don't think he could take it. You just don't realise, do you? You're his everything.
"I'll miss you too." He spoke it gruffly and quickly, as if wanting to get it over with as soon as possible.
Baby steps, perhaps.
She watched as Brendan reached out and make a tucking motion behind Ste's ear with his hand. His hair was no longer really long enough to do so, but she had noticed that Brendan liked doing it, feeling the softness of the shaven sides. Ste seemed to melt into the touch.
Brendan drew his hand away, and she watched as Ste's face dropped like the sun disappearing behind a cloud. She saw Brendan then using his free hands to unbutton his shirt.
Oh God, they weren't going to...not here, surely? In front of the kids?
She saw a flash of silver as Brendan took off the cross necklace that lay permanently across his chest. She barely saw him parted with it since she'd first met him. Speaking to Brendan, she'd never have thought he'd be Catholic, but she'd discovered that it was just one of the many things about him that she'd had no clue about. She was beginning to think that it was some kind of rule with him, to expect the unexpected.
Brendan smoothed the cross between his thumb. He looked bare without it, and Amy was almost surprised that the indent of it hadn't left a mark on his skin.
After a moments pause, he held out his hand to Ste.
Ste stared between it and Brendan, transfixed.
"Your cross?"
"It's yours now. Keep it for me, yeah?"
"While you're away?"
"No. Always."
"But...it's yours. I mean, you always wear it. I can't take it."
"I want you to, Steven." He hesitated, looked as if he was wondering whether or not to speak.
"As much as it kills me, I can't always be around to keep you safe. Whenever you feel scared or alone, I want you to hold onto this, and remember that you never need to be, and you never are."
"Stop it." Ste looked so pained that Amy desperately wanted to interject.
"Stop talking like you're the one who's going somewhere. Like I'm going to lose you or something."
Brendan's expression was the perfect reflection of Ste's. That same haunted look, like his insides were being twisted in two.
A couple of days. A couple of days they'd be away from each other. Amy couldn't understand how that led to them standing here now, Ste's eyes glistening, Brendan's features furrowed in misery. She'd miss Dodger, of course she would. But what she was witnessing was a whole other kind of sadness that she was excluded from.
"I'm sorry."
How strange, all these apologies that Brendan was suddenly saying. It was like he was making up for a lifetime of not saying anything at all.
Brendan touched the back of Ste's neck and before she knew exactly how or when it had happened, they were hugging. Brendan patted Ste on the back at first, as though he was making some macho, blokey gesture. But then his hands slacked, and he settled for inhaling Ste's scent, his hands resting on Ste, pulling him in closer.
Amy could have sworn she heard Brendan whispering "Shhhhh, it's okay" to him, as if in comfort.
It seemed to be working, because by the time they drew away from each other, a hint of a smile had returned to Ste's lips. He leaned forward eagerly, offering Brendan his smooth, fair haired neck, waiting patiently as Brendan did up the clasp of the necklace.
Amy couldn't help but find he idea of Ste wearing the cross amusing. What seemed to fit Brendan seemed so wrong on Ste. She imagined it surrounding him, making him appear like Darren Osbourne in his hay day, back when his standard uniform included chains and anything that sparkled.
Perhaps Ste had recognised this too. The necklace went under his polo shirt, hidden underneath the material and the buttons. The smallest glimpse of silver was visible, but the rest of it was sheathed under layers. Next to his heart.
Perhaps that was Ste and Brendan all over, she thought. Hidden, not easily noticed to the untrained eye. But there beneath the surface, if you just looked hard enough.
Amy was glad when the bus arrived, despite Dodger being a no show. She had come to expect it from him. If she was being honest, she was quite fond of his scatterbrain ways. She knew she'd be able to count on a mind blowing celebratory welcome home party, complete with candles and flowers. That made it all worth it.
Ste was the last on the bus, shifting his rucksack onto it reluctantly, his eyes never leaving the window. He waved once before sitting down in his seat, as if looking out any longer was too much.
She couldn't help rolling her eyes.
"You're acting like you'll never see him again."
"This is the first time we've been apart."
"You were apart for like two years, Ste."
"Yeah, but...I didn't know then."
"Know what?"
"What is was like. To have him completely. Mine."
Amy was quiet then, trying to drown out her thoughts with the sounds of the kids talking to each other, and the chatter on the bus. She never knew what to do when Ste talked about Brendan. Her instinct for so long had been to immediately hit back and attack him, for everything he had done to Ste in the past, for everything he would continue to do. But then the game had changed. The rules had changed.
Brendan had once told her that he didn't even know what love was.
Watching him with Ste, she couldn't believe that. It would be almost easier in a way, if she could. If things had gone on as normal, and Brendan had given her every reason to hate him. If he made Ste miserable, and buried what they'd once had into the ground.
She realised that liking Brendan was far more difficult than hating him. She wondered if Ste ever felt the same way.
Her phone vibrated in her hand. Less than five minutes before they'd set off, and she'd got the expected text from Dodger.
I'm so sorry, I'll make it up to you. I hope your dad's alright. Call me when you get there. x
Amy settled back in the seat with a sigh, and glanced over at Ste. He was frantically checking his phone with one hand, the other placed over his shirt, right over his heart.
9th September, 2011.
The first anniversary since her death.
He hadn't realised he'd be away for it. It wasn't exactly something he kept a record of. He'd quite happily have never remembered it at all. Some may have called it heartless, but he called it self preservation. Survival instinct kicking in.
It had come to him when he'd been at the hospital, waiting while Amy saw Mike. They'd taken the kids in with them first, but Amy had motioned to him to take them back out again after a while. She hadn't wanted them to see her crying.
He had sat in the hallway, Lucas on his knee, Leah sipping on her drink carton, and he'd looked across and seen a woman with long blonde hair. Her back was turned, and she was walking away from him. He had almost caused Lucas to fall off his knee from his desire to stand up and follow her, but he'd stopped himself.
Rae.
He knew it couldn't be her. Of course he knew. He'd tried convincing himself of that at first. That she hadn't died, that he would see her again. That same long blonde hair, those eyes, always challenging him. That smile, those arms which would entangle him when they were having a night in together on the sofa.
But it had been hopeless. She was gone. Silas had made sure of that.
Yet he still knew the date off by heart. That small moment of seeing the woman was enough to evoke it within him. The memory of her, the way she sounded. He'd desperately tried to hold onto her, listening to her voicemail over and over again after he had heard the news. It had been all that was left.
Ste hadn't visited her grave often. The funeral had been bad enough. But somehow, even though he was in Manchester, far from where her body lay, he needed to be close to her at that moment. He had the strangest sense that he needed to say goodbye. Properly this time.
The next day, he declined the offer of going to the hospital. He knew it was easier for Amy to not have him there. He and Mike had never really seen eye to eye, and very little had changed in the intervening years since he had left Hollyoaks. Ste doubted that seeing his face again would be beneficial to Mike's recovery.
Instead he found a quiet spot in the nearby park. It wasn't too unlike the park where they'd had Rae's wake, when they'd raised balloons in the sky, and Ste had delivered the speech in her honour.
He found a bench far away from anyone else. He began to talk.
He knew how it must look if anyone were to pass by. They'd think he was mad, talking to himself, to thin air. But he didn't have a grave to speak to there, and somehow thinking it in his own head wasn't the same. He needed to make it more solid, and speaking it aloud was the only way he knew how.
"Hi, Rae. I know I haven't visited you in a while. I'm sorry. It's just...it's hard. Seeing you like that. Your grave. You not being there, not being able to say anything. You were always so...alive. Whether you were giving me a hard time, or being a friend. I hope you know that I'm always thinking about you, even if it may not seem like it."
He fidgeted on the bench.
"The truth is...the truth is, I don't always visit because I feel bad. About...what I did to you. The way I treated you. The way things ended. I never got a chance to tell you how sorry I was. For Brendan, and our baby. For all of it. I know if you were here now, you'd tell me that I'm an idiot, for getting back with him. Maybe you're right. I know no matter what he promises me, it could all go wrong. That's the thing with me and Brendan. Nothing's ever certain. But...but I love him. And I need to explain why I did the things I did. Because I want to know that you forgive me, properly. I know we stayed friends, but it's not entirely the same thing, is it?"
Ste took a deep breath. Even here in a whole different city, he felt like she could hear him.
"I always felt alone before I met him. I had Amy, and the kids, but...I never really felt like I fitted in. I wasn't clever enough, or good looking enough. I didn't have loads of cash. I wasn't funny. I didn't know what I had to offer. I kind of felt like I was just existing, not really living. Waking up every day, working all hours for Tony, wiping up sick, changing nappies. Watching Amy play happy families with other guys. And then...then Brendan happened. And everything changed."
He picked up a blade of grass and fiddled with it.
"He was unlike anyone else who I'd ever met. I didn't like him at first, I didn't know what to make of him. But then I found out he was a lot like me. Two kids. An ex who he had a lot of history with. A desire to do anything for the people he loved, no matter what the cost. I understood him. He made me feel...he cared about me. I know you'll say that's twisted, that I'd see what he did as caring. But when he wasn't hitting me...he cared. No one had ever made me feel so special before, so important. And it couldn't have just been anyone. It had to be him. The darkest thing he ever did, the worst thought he ever had...I still couldn't stop loving him. You made me happy, Rae. You were kind to me. You would have taken care of me, and I would have taken care of you. I need you to know that it wasn't your fault. It's just...nothing could ever come between me and Brendan. It's not even something I entirely understand."
Ste fingered the necklace. Brendan was right. It really did make him feel less alone.
"So...goodbye."
It sounded lame to his ears. Not enough. But then, he'd never imagined he'd have to say goodbye to her.
"Bye, Rae."
Having no flowers to leave behind, he walked away from the bench, his hand never leaving the cross.
Brendan had to hand it to him, takings had been high that night. There was something about dressing up in smart tailored suits and hats that the students seemed to love. Joel was reveling in the experience, even more so when Theresa walked over to him, wearing a pair of black braces over a white t-shirt.
"Not too masculine for you, then?" She asked, as Joel's fingers wrapped around a brace.
"I quite like it, really."
Brendan snorted. "Got something to tell me, Joel?"
Joel rolled his eyes at him. "Pay no attention to him. He's been in a sulk ever since lover boy left."
Brendan stiffened. He'd been trying his hardest to mention Ste as little as possible, and put his best poker face on. Until Joel's words, he'd been pretty confident that he'd succeeded.
"Brendan Brady, sulking over a man?" Theresa laughed.
She'd spent her fair amount of time around Brendan and Ste herself. In the kitchen in the morning, when she'd stayed over for the night. She'd tried to avert her eyes as Ste walked down the stairs in a dressing gown covering his pajamas, Brendan following in nothing but his boxers. She had watched as they had stood close together, Ste always going for a cup of tea or fruit juice, Brendan selecting the strongest coffee. When they hadn't thought anyone was looking, she'd spotted Brendan's hand snaking around Ste's waist, a smile exchanged. Then there had been evenings spent at Chez Chez, Ste arriving after his shift at Carter and Hay had finished, Brendan greeting him with a kiss and a quick nod to the office. They would emerge half an hour later, looking particularly self satisfied, flushed cheeks and bites peppering their necks. It was a sight she had come to expect, but Brendan pining after another man was still something that surprised her. She just couldn't imagine what he'd do. Listen to some cheesy ballad with a box of tissues beside him? Eat mass amounts of chocolate while a chick flick played in the background?
"You should see him. Checking his phone every three seconds. Looking at pictures of them together. I even saw him letting himself into Ste's flat the other day."
Brendan rarely felt embarrassed, but even he had to stop himself from going a bright shade of crimson at this. He didn't think telling Joel that Ste had asked him to take care of the flat while he was gone would help matters. Especially not as he'd fallen asleep in Ste's bed for a good few hours, waking to find himself clutching the pillow.
Pathetic. I am pathetic.
Even the string of suggestive texts he and Ste had sent to each other hadn't made the feeling of panic leave him. They only served as a reminder of what he was missing out on.
As he pointedly ignored Joel, he watched as he led Theresa to the dance floor.
Brendan wasn't left alone for long.
"Alright, mate?"
Young. Early 20s. Light brown hair. A tie and a black hat, to go with the theme. Olive skin.
"Can I buy you a drink?"
"I've already got one."
He turned away, hoping he'd get the hint.
He didn't.
"Well the next one's on me then. You run this place, right?"
"Yes." Brendan raised his hand to his forehead, rubbing it. He felt a headache beginning to build.
"It's impressive. I remember when this place used to be a right dump, back when it was under other owners."
Small talk. Great.
Brendan sucked on his straw loudly. His phone was in his trouser pocket, so he'd feel it if it began to buzz.
"You feel like getting out of here?"
The man was right up in his face now. He was drunk, his speech slurred, his eyes unfocused. Brendan searched around to see if there was anyone waiting for him, any friend that he could find, but he saw no one.
"Really don't."
It wasn't the man's fault. He was good looking enough. A decent guy, Brendan would bet. But he just wasn't interested these days. Not since a certain blue eyed Mancunian had permanently worked his way into his life.
Any thoughts of the man vanished when Brendan saw a pair of skinny legs climbing the stairs. Dancers were blocking his view, but he could make out the tight black trousers, the hat, perfectly in style with Bugsy Malone. Whoever this was had gone to town. The ideal moll to his gangster.
Steven Hay.
Brendan put aside his drink and shoved through the crowd of people to reach him. It felt impossibly long. He wanted to part them like the Red Sea, because he was certain at that moment that nothing should ever come between him and this boy.
He was even more beautiful close up. It had been an unusually warm September, and the days spent in the sun at the park had made Ste's skin turn even more golden. It had the kind of look about it that made Brendan want to lick it all over.
"You're back, then."
Stating the obvious, because no words seemed adequate for how Brendan felt.
"Yeah." Ste bit down on his bottom lip in that way that drove Brendan crazy.
"You're early."
"The doctor's say Mike's going to be okay. And besides, I couldn't miss this, could I?"
Brendan turned as he saw Ste grinning off into the distance. He saw him waving at Joel, causing the lad to do some sulking of his own, Theresa attempting to calm him down.
"You look..."
"Like a kid at a costume party?" Ste suggested.
"Fucking hot, was what I was going to say."
"You don't look so bad yourself." Ste ran his hands along Brendan's jacket.
"What do you say you and me get out of here? I have a bottle of Jameson's back at the flat."
Brendan had a vision of him and Ste getting drunk on it, the sex even more urgent that night. A drunk Ste was even more vocal than normal. He felt excited at the mere thought of it.
Ste touched his chest playfully, his expression as light as air.
"Give me two minutes, yeah? We're out of lube."
"How do you know?" Brendan raised an eyebrow.
"We ran out of it last time, remember?"
Brendan thought back. Wet fingers inserted into Ste's hole, stretching him. A sufficient amount on his cock. The empty bottle, with Ste's laugh sounding loud and clear, telling Brendan that they'd need more next time. Brendan reveling in the fact that there would be a next time, that there would always would be.
"Two minutes," he agreed, and kissed Ste. A promise of what was to come.
He had a few preparations of his own to make.
There was no trail of roses that awaited him. No candles burning in the background, no music playing. It wasn't their style, either of them. There had never been a conversation around it, about the way they would act, the things they would do for each other. Nothing had needed to be said. Somehow they just knew.
What there was was a set of keys, dangled in front of Ste's face.
Brendan tried to hide the way his hands shook. Now wasn't the time to show Ste that he was afraid.
I want this. The fear can go fuck itself.
"What are these?"
Ste stared at them with a mesmerised expression, like a kitten having a ball of string waved in its face.
"Keys to our new place together."
Ste needed the question repeated. Brendan spoke it again with a new sense of nervousness, but also a new confidence. It felt right.
"You've...you've brought us a flat?"
Brendan mistook his shock for something else. Was he being controlling again? Pushing the boy to breaking point? Doubts flooded his mind. Perhaps he should have showed Ste the place first. He'd been debating it for months. The perfect place had come up, just outside the village. Close enough to the club, the deli, the kids and Cheryl. Far away enough so it felt like just theirs. Their own place, with no interruptions.
Ste going away had been the decider for him. Never again did he want to live without him. He wanted to be a part of that family that he'd felt so shut off from. He wanted Leah and Lucas to come to stay with them, for Ste to spend more time with Declan and Paddy. He wanted to fuck the boy as hard as he pleased, without having to bite down onto his shoulder to muffle the sounds.
He wanted Ste to want it too. More than anything the boy's own happiness counted. He wasn't sure when that had happened, when Ste's own needs started to come before his own. If Ste asked him to leave him now, he would, if he thought that's what he really wanted. He didn't know if he'd be able to survive that, to get through each day without the boy's presence. But he'd have to try.
'If it's not what you want, Steven..."
"Are you kidding me?" Ste practically shouted it. "I've wanted that since I can remember."
He threw himself on Brendan then, backing them both against the wall. Ste's hands gripped his hair, and their mouths crashed together. Brendan's hands went to Ste's belt, swiping it out of its fastenings. When his waistcoat landed on a heap on the floor, Brendan spotted the familiar sight of silver. Ste's hands went to the cross, holding onto it tightly as they collapsed on the floor, not bothering to make it to the bed.
Brendan's hands gently dislodged Ste's from the necklace. He wasn't alone anymore. He had no need for it then.
He laid his own palm on top of Ste's as he buried himself in him, their new flat keys lying safely out of place on the carpet.
As they came together, the two men held onto each others hands for dear life, never letting go.