Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they belong to Hollyoaks!
Summary: Brendan has a nightmare, Ste soothes him. One-shot.
Under The Covers
Brendan remembered a time when the nightmares were kept at bay. That night in Dublin with Steven when they'd fucked until the early hours of the morning and slept curled around each other the remainder of the night. Once they had returned home and he had appeared, Brendan tried to avoid voicing his name when he didn't have to, they had started again.
He had spent many nights with Steven. For the most part he slept through Brendan's night terrors. Now and again however he would wake, dazed and heady with sleep, and he'd reach over to grasp Brendan's hand until his breathing returned to normal once more. He didn't suffocate him, didn't fuss over him. It was almost as though he knew how suffocated Brendan was in his dreams; pressed against the bed, hot breath on his neck making him choke into the pillow.
Tonight he had a particularly terrifying one. He scarcely knew where he was when he woke. He fought against the hands trying to touch him until he realised it was Steven. He blinked a few times, feeling the dampness on his cheeks, furious with himself for such a reaction.
"Hey," Steven said softly. He didn't ask if he was okay, he knew that he wasn't. He reached to stroke a line down Brendan's cheek, his touch barely a whisper against his skin. "What do you need?"
Brendan took a few shuddering breaths to steady himself. "I don't know." He admitted quietly. Steven looked thoughtful for a moment until he seemed to be struck with a sudden idea. He pulled the end of the duvet cover above their heads,, concealing them underneath.
"What are ye doing?" Brendan asked, confused.
"I used to do it when I was a kid. I felt untouchable under here, no one could get me."
He was so remarkable sometimes it took Brendan's breath away. Even when he didn't know the full story he understood Brendan's need to hide.
Brendan felt his heart rate returning to normal as Steven shuffled closer, tucking himself underneath Brendan's chin, arms wrapped around his stomach.
"So how was your day?" Steven asked conversationally, as if they had all of their conversations underneath the covers, perfectly normal.
"Stressful," Brendan replied. "You?"
"Same. I think I'm gonna have to hire someone else you know."
"Yeah?"
"It's all getting on top of me a bit and I wanna be able to see you and the kids as much as possible."
"I know the feeling." Brendan said, brushing his fingers absently through Steven's hair.
They were silent for several moments. Brendan could hear their breathing mingled together, in sync. Each rise and fall of Steven's chest reminded him how real this was, that he was here, tangible and his. He couldn't believe he'd spent so long without him. Steven, who came to Dublin to fight for him. Steven, who held him when he sobbed. Steven, who ignored convention and adulthood and hid them under the covers like scared little boys. Brendan didn't think he'd ever be able to fully express what the boy, man meant to him. He would try though, every day they were together.
"I do love ye." He said, barely a whisper.
"I know, Bren." Steven replied, curling his fingers underneath Brendan's shirt.
"I wish…" Brendan trailed off, feeling foolish.
"What?" Steven prompted, all long lashes and bright, blue eyes.
"I wish it was always just us, here."
Steven smiled slowly, blissful. "Yeah?"
"Why not? We've got a bed, that's important."
Steven snorted. "I'll bet. What about food?"
"The kids can bring us food."
"What, Leah and her spaghetti on toast?"
"Hey, she makes a mean one."
"With me watching, yeah!"
"Only an idea." Brendan murmured, not entirely serious. Steven rolled his eyes.
"If they left you in a room with me and food, you'd die happy wouldn't you?"
"Yes." Brendan answered without hesitation. "In fact I would already be dead. Except I don't think Heaven's got a place for me."
"Don't say that." Steven said, suddenly serious.
"You'll be alright." Brendan continued.
"Not without you." Steven admitted quietly, his voice choking a little on the words.
"Hey," Brendan pulled him closer. "What's all this?"
"I'm scared, Bren. You're not telling me things, important things, and it feels like you're drowning and I can't save you."
"Steven-"
"No, I mean it! We need to… I don't know, leave."
"Leave?"
"Get out of town. Never look back."
Brendan pulled away to stare at him. "You're serious?"
"I am, I think."
"Steven… I can't ask that of ye."
"Why not? We're a team, right?"
"Right. But we can't just up and leave everything behind."
"Why not? Cheryl would understand, the kids would love it."
"Like they loved the idea of America?"
"They didn't much, actually." Steven admitted. "This is different though, this is me and you."
"It doesn't matter where we go, Steven. Some things ye can't run from."
"But I need to do something." Steven said imploringly. "I feel like something's pulling at you, threatening to take you away and I can't do anything about it."
"Steven, I won't-"
"Don't promise me you won't leave if you can't keep it." Steven said, his fingers tightening around Brendan's shirt.
"I wouldn't leave ye, not willingly anyway."
"And neither will I." Steven said earnestly. "But you keep trying to push me away."
"I can't…" Brendan didn't know how to finish that sentence. What couldn't he do? Leave? Tell Steven about his father?
Steven sighed, already aware he was fighting a losing battle. "One day." He said, not making it sound like a threat like others might have.
"Yes." Brendan said, unconfident. This was supposed to be a safe place, no demons here. Except sometimes when he looked into Steven's face, his perfectly smooth skin and bright eyes, he remembered some of the things he'd done to him, and the shame would sometimes overwhelm him and threaten to swallow him whole.
"I'm sorry, Bren." Steven said eventually. "I didn't mean to push."
"I understand." Brendan replied automatically.
"We'll just rest here now." Steven said quietly, pulling himself closer to Brendan.
"No," Brendan said, surprising himself. He pulled the covers down so they were laid bare in the pale moonlight spilling through the window. "Can't always hide, some things ye have to face."
Steven looked at him in that awe-struck way he used to, and for a moment Brendan felt triumphant, like he could conquer anything. Sometimes he thought everything would be okay as long as Steven still looked at him like that. Sometimes it was all he needed.
He reached for him then, hands fisting in his hair, lips pressed soft against his neck. Steven gave a little sigh, then a little moan as Brendan's other hand held him firmly at his spine. Their bodies moulded together effortlessly and within moments their lips met, a searing, soul-destroying kiss. Steven was on top of him, straddling his lap, stroking his fingers down Brendan's chest. His hands were confident, exploring. He opened himself wide to Brendan, begging him from the back of his throat, a low, guttural growl, primal.
Brendan responded to him, filling him completely, losing himself in Steven. His touch, his scent, his entire being. Brendan splayed his fingers across his chest, feeling the thrum of his heartbeat. It made him feel alive like nothing else could. Just hearing Steven's name on his lips was enough. Every touch was like liquid fire, threatening to destroy them and seal them together simultaneously.
Brendan's lips were at his throat: licking, kissing. Steven raised himself, head thrown back in ecstasy. He judged their movements, knew when to give and when to take. When to slow, when to accelerate. Their orgasms came like a burst of pure light, blinding them both into oblivion.
The come down was almost as intense. Brendan kissed him again, his hands shaking as they held his face. Steven was crying and Brendan didn't need to ask why. He held him close, wondering if they would shrug it off tomorrow. Somehow he doubted it. Steven would watch him closely, he knew that. He always felt his eyes on him lately as though Steven was soaking up every moment they had. Brendan understood the feeling. He had Steven memorised by now. Every mark, every hidden part of skin.
Steven pulled the covers over them to waist level. He laid himself against Brendan's chest once more and fell asleep almost instantaneously. His hand curled in Brendan's, tight even in sleep. They may not need the covers to hide underneath now, but the idea that they could spend many more nights like this gave Brendan the strength to close his eyes again and chase the nightmares away.