Suits You

Ste finishes early at the restaurant on Valentine's night. It's not done through planning; Brendan isn't the hearts and flowers type so he knows there's no need to hurry home. But after the busy rush comes and goes, Tony ushers him away from the clearing up and tells him it's time to go home.

Sinead's on her way over to help, apparently, and it's at that point that he starts to become suspicious. She's his best friend and he loves her to bits, but Sinead and the phrase 'hard-graft' just don't go together.

They're up to something.

"Go on, out!" Tony orders, throwing Ste his jacket.

"What's going on?"

The older man does a reasonable job of looking baffled. "How d'you mean?"

"I mean, why do I suddenly get a free pass from washing up and closing down? And since when is Sinead O'Lazy happy to offer her services?"

Tony shrugs his shoulders. "It's a family business, Ste. Diane's got Katy for a few hours and since Freddie let her down for their night out, she rang and changed her mind about working. Obviously a night at The Hutch is a last resort for her, but I'm not bothered either way."

"Didn't even know you'd asked her to come in," Ste replies, still puzzled. "You knew I was gonna be here."

"Alright, fine. I was trying to work the shifts out to give you the night off. This is the best I could do."

"But it's Valentine's Day." And for Ste, that's a valid point - the day doesn't really affect him, but Tony's got Diane, and Sinead has Freddie. Even if that muppet doesn't treat her properly...

But Tony is smiling at him. The thing is, amidst this confusing conversation, it just looks bizarre. "Exactly."

"You've lost me. Surely you should be the one leaving early to go and spoil Diane?"

"No mate," he says with a wink. Even stranger, he muses. "Took her for lunch earlier, remember? And she arranged to have Katy weeks ago."

Now Ste allows himself to consider something unlikely. Is this Brendan's doing? His Brendan, the one who just doesn't do romantic gestures?

"Right. What's he up to?" he demands, waiting for Tony to waver. There's a small clue that he's guessed right by the way his friend's eyes are twinkling, but other than that, Tony won't budge.

"Ste. Get out of here, will you?"

"Yeah," says a familiar scouse accent. "Get lost, you! You're wanted!"

Now Sinead is winking at him, too. The very idea of Brendan Brady acting in cahoots with Ste's best friends is, frankly, plain weird. The only people Brendan talks to properly, besides him, are Cheryl and Mitzeee.

And Ste hasn't seen or heard anything from them all day.

Still, he decides to stop dithering over minor details, finally slipping on his jacket.

He calls out a goodbye and heads for the door. On his way out, he can hear Sinead's parting comment: "Thank me later!"

Ste makes it home within a couple of minutes. When he walks through the front door, he finds the place in total darkness. It's as if nobody's even in.

He thinks, despite what his head's been telling him about this day, that he's let Tony's guarded hints convince him something special was on the cards. Now that he's here, with no Brendan in sight, Ste feels more than daft.

So then what the hell was that back at the restaurant?

"Brendan?" he calls, switching on the light after a minute's delay.

Another light appears from the bedroom now, but there's no further movement. Ste wanders through to find his other half, briefly wondering if he was actually asleep until a few seconds ago.

When he reaches their room, he has to stop still in the doorway. The urge to laugh builds until an unusual sound comes from his throat; it's a mixture of bemusement and utter glee.

There, sprawled out on the bed, is his Brendan, sporting a look he's never fashioned before. As in, ever.

He's wearing a tracksuit.

"Is that...is that mine?" the end of his sentence is unnaturally high. Now that he's had a proper look, there's something about the sight before him that's having a very strong effect on his body.

He assumes that's Brendan's intention.

"Well, I didn't much fancy buying one of my own," the Irishman answers, eyebrows raised and a smirk on his lips.

Ste grins at him. "They're much cheaper than suits, you know."

"Are ye gonna come over here, or am I going to have to get ye myself, Steven? This thing's very tight on me, ye know."

He lets out a chuckle, imagining Brendan trying to squeeze himself into his trackies. "I'm surprised you got it to fit over your muscles."

"Steven. Here. Now."

Ste pretends to think it over for a moment, his eyes glazing over in consideration. Then he lunges forward and lands on the bed with a thud. Before Brendan can take the lead, Ste's lips are on his hungrily. The blue tracksuit is soon thrown on the floor, forgotten in their haste.

It's not until a while later, as their bodies are still curled around each other, that he remembers. "Bren?"

"Mmm?"

"What exactly did you say to Tony and Sinead?"

Brendan props himself up on his elbow to look at him. "Ye mean, did I tell them I was planning to have my wicked way with ye by dressing up in your clothes? What do ye think?"

Ste shakes his head, laughing at the thought. "Well they didn't really say much, but they were acting well shifty. I almost suspected you were planning something soppy!"

"I don't do soppy, Steven. Ye know that. I do, however, do surprises. Better get packing. We fly to Paris in the morning."

It takes him a further minute to understand that this is for real. Brendan is actually taking him to the 'city of love'.

Still, he can't help but ask for confirmation.

"You serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious. Anthony's got ye covered at the restaurant for the weekend. Now, are ye gonna get off your backside and start our packing or what?"

Ste gives him a nudge for his cheek, but obliges happily anyway.

"Right. Shall I pack us an extra tracksuit...?"