"Under Protection"
An AU fic by Kabr and Mercurial2010.
A/N:
Mercurial says - I know I have two other unfinished fics and I am working on them, they will get done promise. I just had this idea through a combination of watching Doctor Who and Winters Bone and Kabr liked it too so YEY :D It's my first ever, ever, actual-AU fic :O! So I really hope you enjoy it, big love to you all, MWAH.
Kabr says – This is my first ever fic so I really hope you enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. And none of it would have happened without the amazingly talented Mercurial2010 who offered me this opportunity and continuously supported and encouraged me. She is a superstar!
About this fic:
Right so it's AU so we're having a little fun changing aspects of the characters whilst trying to keep them ahem in character!
The only backstory you need to know at the moment is:
Ste is 16, he lives in an estate in Chester with his mum, step-dad Terry and his twin half-siblings Leah and Lucas. They're broke, live on the dole, and it's down to Ste to make all the money he can. At the beginning of this fic Ste accepts a babysitting job. It turns out he's looking after the two sons of local gangster Brendan Brady's. Brendan is 35. He has a lot of money but nobody really knows how, just that he's bad news.
Brendan had an open marriage to his sons' mother, Eileen. Eileen was the only one to have known, loved, respected and accepted everything about him, including his sexuality. She has been out of the picture a long time but very few people know for certain what happened to her.
This fic will be told in alternating POV's, we start with two chapters from Ste, then have two chapters from Brendan then it will be every other.
This fic is dark and adult, there's going to be bad language and scenes of a sexual and violent nature. We hope you enjoy ;)
You all know I (Mercurial) love reviews, and this is my talented superstar Kabr's first ever fic so please let us hear some words :D!
Chapter Warning:
A little smut.
Some bad language.
Chapter One – Ste Hay.
"Use anything you like, just don't answer the phone yeah? And don't let anyone in. The fridges are stocked up, not quite sure what the nanny used to make 'em for dinner but you look like a bright lad so ask em, and eat something yourself too cos you look like you haven't got a scrap of flesh on your body."
When this bloke, Mr Brady, talks like this - all instruction, his accent is so deep and his words are all slurred it's like his speak don't fit underneath his big fat, proper ridiculous, moustache.
"You listening lad?"
I nod, for some reason my words don't come out right in this house.
"The chauffer will drop em off in about fifteen minutes then they're with you. You know do the usual with em, homework, telly, that shit. My sister will be getting them ready for school at six in the morn so make sure they get to sleep… y'know - whenever you think's a good time. I should be eight hours max, if I'm any later than three somebody will phone with instructions of what to do. Don't answer the phone before then though and don't let anybody in."
"You already said that," I remind him and he stares at me like his eyes don't fit in his head, like nobody's talked to him like that before and I guess they probably haven't. Pretty easy to be intimidated by him - if you don't live surround by his sort.
"Right well y'know, it's important. Thanks for stepping in at the last minute like this Steven, and I'm sure if you do good tonight there will be other babysitting-"
"Everyone calls me Ste."
"What?"
"I'm Ste, me, not Steven."
He stands proper still and slowly looks me up and down, sort of assessing, before walking towards me. I do get a little scared then, just cos of the way he's looking at me, like.
He only takes a few steps but it seems to take forever. He never takes his eyes off mine.
He stops a couple of inches away from me and inhales deeply as though he's sniffing me. And I can't explain it but I'm not really scared no more. I can see in his dark, deep eyes that it's not frightened that I need to be feeling.
He cocks his head to the side and leans in towards my ear.
"That's a ridiculous nickname so I'm gonna call you Steven, have a problem with that?"
"No, boss." I said it sort of as an impulse but it makes his jaw like twitch, and his teeth, which are proper white, bare. He looks like, I dunno, like he's excited, or something.
"Good," he says slowly.
And then he's gone.
***K&M***
When Mr Carter told me I could earn get a job babysitting some dudes kids, I didn't realise it would be for someone who has this much money. His house is proper massive. Bigger than the whole block of flats we live in. I mean it shouldn't be a surprise should it? Seeing as this is Mr Brady and all. Don't know no-one that's not heard of him, you know even little kids are told by their big bro's that you don't mess with no shit of Mr Brady's. Uncle Tony says Brady 'lives by his own moral code', guess that means he does the shit he pleases and screws everything else. He has a confidence about him like nothing would scare him but you better be scared of him if you know what I'm saying?
Not a lot of people that have met him though, or even real knows what he looks like, so let me tell you a little bit about him. He's tall. You notice that first off. Though, probably not real taller than me, he just seems it, innit? Like cos he's older or richer or stronger or something, he's just more in the room than anyone else. All bulked with muscle, but not too much muscle mind. Just right. I could see the buttons on his red shirt straining and his chest hair poking out from the couple he'd left undone. Probably too many buttons, looked like that John Travolter in those crap gangster movies Terry likes, like he'd be better off leant up against dinners in the 80's rather than here, in Chavster-Chester in 2010. He looks kinda good though, I dunno like powerful. And I kinda like that...
Anyway, I mean he is powerful innit – that everyone knows. There are a shit load of rumours about this bloke. Mr Carter was kinda worried about me taking this job actually. He's like that though, knows what my life's like innit so just sort of cares for me. I can take care of myself though, even around the likes of Mr Brady.
***K&M***
I'm an alright cook I reckon, always have to do it at home for the twins dun I? As mam is never sober enough to.
They're good kids, Leah and Lucas, I make sure they look up to their big brother. I keep em safe, I do. And I want them to be happy you know, so they tell me bout their dreams. Lucas wants to be a pilot, and Leah she wants to be a vet don't she? Or a singer, I reckon she's got the voice for it too. Though Rhys just says I'm biased. One day I am gonna show 'em that I can do something with my life y'know despite the shit we live in, and they can too.
I make Brady's kids macaroni cheese and sit with 'em.
He's got two kids. Declan is the eldest, at ten. That funny age where you're not really a child no more but not a teenager neither. He's got this look on his face like he's not proper sure where he belongs. He's alright, though. Bit quiet, don't seem to have the confidence like 'is dad. And the youngest Paddy….think it's short for somethin' like Patrick or Padran or Padrun or somethin' like that. He's a cheeky one, full of energy. He's seven, same age as the Leah and Lucas. Though you can tell they go to the posh school that costs all that money. Speak proper, like.
It might be a little weird you know, sayin Brady's kids are alright, considering where they come from and all. No-one round here would describe Brendan Brady like that. But they are - dead polite and well mannered. Don't reckon Mr Brady is the family type anyway, probably don't play with em much. So guess it must be that nannies doing.
Funny what happened there. Girl, Lysney think her name was, around for a good few years, dead kind to everyone and then just sort of left one day, no-one heard nothing from her. That rich footballer she was hanging about with looked proper upset for a while. Things like that seem to happen to Mr Brady though, there was that odd thing about his wife as well.
***K&M***
After dinner, Declan and me 'ave a bit of a chat about school and football and shit, and we 'av a game of 'Crash Bandicoot' on the Xbox.
"You're pretty good at this mate," I tell him.
I reckon he's 'ad a lot of practice when the Nanny aint been about. Least they said the nanny was proper into homework and making them do schooly things like collect nature and look at worms and shit – suppose that's what she thought she should do with Brady's boys innit?
"Dad always plays this with game with me." He tells me, "it's our boy time"
Oh, so might of got somethin' wrong about Brady then – turns out he is the family type, after all.
"We play when he doesn't want to talk about work and what happened to mum and Lynsey."
Didn't get it all wrong then.
"And I can make him play if I want, when he's busy." He says, and then he looks kinda sad like he misses that.
"How you do that, mate?" I ask trying to distract him.
"I ask him about the men who stay over ."
Huh men staying over? Really…?
***K&M***
I proper need a whizz so leave the boys playing xbox. I find the, proper massive, bathroom. When I'm there my phone rings again and it's the third time he's called me tonight, Mr Fox. Yep, that is his proper name - I know right? He's my boss.
Don't get me wrong, didn't look to get meself set up for a drug job did I? But would take any job me. Have took any job. Use all I have to earn a bit of money, and yeah dealing might not be great but it's something y'know?
And at least I aint being used like in me other job.
Me mam and Terry spend all their money on booze , fags and gear so it's down to me to look after the twins. Uncle Tony helps, when he can, like. But he just gets loads of abuse from me mam.
Anyway, The Loft don't really look like that sorta place. You walk in and it seems like any other club I been to in Chester. Full of students on a cheap night out looking for cheap drinks or a cheap lay. Think Mr Fox uses that as a bit of a cover for all the other stuff that goes on. So I really didn't go in looking for a drug job, honest. Thought I was just gonna be collecting glasses or sommit, but Mr Fox said he didn't have any work at the club for a rat boy like me. He 'ad some other work if I wanted it but only if I could keep me mouth shut, like. All I have to do is sell some goods to me mates an' that and I get a good cut – easy money. And it don't hurt me.
Reckon other dodgy shit goes on in the Loft too, things I don't touch. I've over heard him a couple of times but he always tells me to get lost so I'm outta there pretty quick.
Mr Fox is average height and quite bulky. Not in a Mr Brady kind of way, though. He must be getting on for fifty full head of hair but nearly all proper grey. Likes to think he's some kind of mafia boss. Laughs at his own jokes and is right arrogant. He always put himself first and I reckon he would do anything to get what he wants if it involves money and women.
Didn't really mind working for him in the past. I got myself a problem now, though. Cos I don't have the money and I not got the goods no more neither thanks to Terry, so I'm kinda lying low right now. I'm actually bricking it a little cos I know what they do to small-fry like me that steal. There was one dude called Cam, it wasn't even him who got the drugs right it was his brother, but still they did him in good and proper, he's still in hospital by all accounts - three years later. Reckon I'll be alright if I keep my head low, and worst comes to the worst this job, lookin after Brady's boys, pays good, so I can pay back a little.
I hear the boys arguing and as I'm rushing to 'em I drop me phone on the floor.
I'm pretty good with kids and I know they're arguing cos they're tired and it is pretty late so I get 'em ready for bed. Reckon Mr Brady would find out somehow if they stayed up later.
Reckon Mr Brady finds out anything when he wants to.
***K&M***
The kids go down quite easily and I take another look around the house. And you would never guess this but the dude actually has a pool. A pool. It's in this like windowed room but set in his garden so it's all private, and out here in the country the stars are pretty bright reflecting off the water so it looks fucking sick.
I love swimming, don't I? Me. Used to go all the time with Uncle Tony. But haven't been for fucking ages, not since Terry kicked him out in case he found out my secret job, the one Terry got me involved in. That thought makes me a little sad, so I kick my trainer off and stick my foot in and the waters warm, you know, like heated. And there's happier memories now. I really want a swim, and it's still early right, Mr Brady's gonna be another couple of hours yet so I reckon I can get away with it.
I leave my clothes over the chair.
I just float on my back for a bit. Stare at the stars and think 'bout all sorts. Like what it would be like to live like this and not have to crowd into three jumpers in winter cos leckie money's been spent on skank, and having three entire fridges of food rather than jumping from the cops at Price Slice.
"Having a good night, Steven?"
It's his voice I hear first.
He's suddenly here, early, standing at the edge of the pool. And I'm naked right, so obviously I jump up quickly, and cup my cock.
"Shit I'm so fucking sorry," I say quickly, climbing out of the pool. "You did say use anything you want right It's only bloody eleven right, you did fucking say midnight blood and-"
"You have a really dirty mouth you know that?" He says kinda cocking his head to the side again in that sizing me up way.
"Sorry," I say, cleaning my language, remembering who's in charge – he said he's always the boss whether he's here or not.
He nods, like he's thinking, good boy, or something.
"Kids were fucking diamo-, I mean your sons were…great," I tell him.
"Just checked in on them, Dec really liked you."
"Yeah he's cool."
"Cool?" He says like he's not heard his son called that before and I wonder exactly how much time he spends with them – being passed from baby sitter to Lynsey to his sister.
He sort of looks at me then, like straight at me, like he's focusing only on me. And I feel the fact I'm entirely naked and the only reason he can't see my cock is my hand. He sort of seems to be closer to me all of a sudden, although he don't proper move at all.
"So-" he says, slowly, and I can see his tongue moving like he's licking the word.
"So?"
"Steven," he sort of breathes, like he's inhaling my name.
Then he is actually closer to me, and I feel the back of my thighs against his table.
"Are you gonna put your clothes back on?"
He's proper close now, like I could actually kiss him. He sort of seems to be breathing me.
And I think I see what Dec means now, about men staying over. Least Mr Brady looks like he might quite like this - me being starkers in front of him.
And I didn't realise until just a second ago how bloody turned on I actually is, and I feel my cock stir against my hand.
So I drop it, right, my hand. And his eyes flash, like literally flash – sort of fill with colour and then go pitch black. He stares at my cock like he thinks I'm dead sexy.
"Have you got a towel?" I ask, thinking that he might just decide to dry me with his body and that might be quite fun.
But instead he takes a couple of steps back and says, "I'll leave one in the bathroom for you."
And his eyes don't leave my body, but he's walking away.
"Come and see me in the kitchen when you're ready," he breathes.
Ready? For what?
And then he laughs like he can read my mind and shakes his head, "for your babysitting pay, Steven."
***K&M***
He didn't say nothin' as he gave me the money, just said he might call me if boy's need lookin' after again.
It was proper weird actually, in his kitchen, like there was something blocking the room. Well odd. So that's probably why I forgot my bloody phone innit? I left it when I was in the bathroom when Mr Fox called.
I can't leave it though, too important. And I'm half way down the street when I realise so I have to cycle all the way back again. There's no answer at the front so I go round the back and the door by the swimming pools open. I let myself in, calling as I go but there's no response and all the lights are off. So I decide to just go quickly to the bathroom and hope he doesn't think I'm breaking in and let the dogs on me or something.
The only light in the entire house is in the bathroom, it's the one over the mirrors so the room kinda looks orange. And Mr Brady's there but he's not seen me. He's lookin' in the mirror and there's this big red scar that runs right up to his jugular, he's got TCP and dabbin at it with cotton wool.
I sort of watch him, as he undoes the red shirt and reveals more scarring, using the disinfectant as he goes. There's seven scars I can see in all, those are the new ones any rate - there looks like there's some old stuff as well.
He's like massive, like strength ripples from his body and it's hotter than in all those magazines. And I feel hot, like he's giving off heat through those muscles and the spatter of dark hair. His arms are proper massive and he 'as a tattoo of a big cross at the top of 'is right arm, he's wearin this crucifix as well, this silver little thing nestled against all that chest hair. He don't look religious tho, right. He kinda looks like a sin.
He struggles with this big scar on his back, looks in the mirror to get it proper and that's when he sees me. I forgot I was staring.
"What are you doing here?!" He asks, like a threat.
"Door by the pool is open," he doesn't seem too shocked by that – guess no-on in their right minds would do a rob from Mr Brady.
"I said what are you doing here Steven, not how did you get in."
"I left my phone didn't I?" I say and point at it by the loo.
He passes it me, his eyes telling me to get out quickly. But thing is I've got a big mouth, everyone says so. I can't help it sometimes.
So I ask him, "what happened to you?"
He stares at me like I surprise him, like I keep surprising him.
"Someone needs to find a way to shut you up, you know."
"Wha'?"
"It means mind your own business."
And I see how angry he is so I say, "cool, no worries mate, I'll see myself out."
I turn round and start to leave but something stops me and I look at him.
"There's a kinda bad one on your back, prob can't reach it - I could if you like."
He looks at me as though he's questioning my motives but then with that slow Irish drawl says, "Please do, Steven."
I take the disinfectant and pour a little on the cotton wool, my hands are shaking a little cos of him watchin me through the mirror. He's watchin me like he won't ever stop.
I gently dab the scar on his back…he winces slightly and I can't help but place my hand on his shoulder to soothe him. He breathes out slowly and relaxes and I continue to dab and slowly wipe across the length of the scar. With my other hand I gently trace the lines of old scars taking note of each one, wondering how they came to be on this incredible body. I feel his skin respond to my touch, like he's enjoying it. I forget I'm doin' anything other than exploring him. I'm not really thinkin' no more.
He has this smell. It's not like aftershave, not proper, although it's like that expensive stuff Mr Carter let me try once. It's more like it's him, and even that makes 'im even more manly if that's possible.
He turns round and he's lookin at me, it's like I fascinate 'im or summet. Like I intrigue 'im. I can't 'elp but run my eyes over 'is chest. I just wanna see him all and there's like a proper lot to see.
This close his tatts look proper amazin', so I reach out and touch the one on the left side of 'is chest when he suddenly grabs my wrist but doesn't move my hand away. I look up and he's still proper staring, never taking his eyes off me. He reaches out, with his other hand, and gently sweeps my fringe off my face and slowly trails his finger down my cheek until he reaches my lips. He softly runs his finger over my bottom lip and I hear his breathing hitch slightly. He then pushes my hand that's on his chest steadily down until I reach his groin.
And it's clear, his cock through his trousers and we kinda look at each other like waiting to know who will be the first person to point it out. And he sort of nears me and he does that thing again like breathin' me in. and it's dead sexy that so I sort of reach up and
I kiss 'im don' I?
He pulls back quickly, and like growls - "what do you think you're doing?"