A/N: Written for Love Out of Lust. I promised her I would write a fic, because I never have before. So here it is! After ages of me worrying what to write, it's all finished!

Ste held his phone against his ear, again, and listened to the message - again. It was the third one that had been left on his phone in the last 10 minutes. They were all the same, he was basically repeating himself in each message he'd left. Only he sounded a little different. A bit more desperate, each time. Pleading- begging for Ste to answer, to talk to him, to meet up so he can explain, so they can talk properly. Brendan's capability of speaking to someone like a normal person, though, proved to be impossible once more. All his messages consisted of him stuttering, stopping one sentence to start another, getting himself worked up in an angered frenzy only to realize he was trying to make things better - not worse, in which he'd calm down again.

Please, Steven, he'd said, Please, just talk to me.

Only Ste knew that they both knew there was nothing more to say. What else could there be to talk about? Ste didn't want to hear the gory details of what went on, how it meant nothing, how it just 'happened' and how he was just 'there'. Like he was just there, all those months ago. How Ste had been in that position before, being the means to Brendan's end. He didn't want to know, he didn't want to even think about it. He had said what he needed, back at the hotel. Brendan had gotten the message loud and clear, as far as he was concerned. And if not, ignoring his calls would certainly add to it. He hoped, anyway.

He didn't even look back in Brendan's direction once he got through those hotel doors. He could hear him, somewhere in the background, shouting after him. Asking him to slow down, to stop, but he wouldn't. He just kept going. He needed to get out of here, this place, and as far away from Brendan as he possibly could. It took him all the strength he didn't know he possessed to ignore him, to leave him standing back at that door. Alone. But it was okay, Ste thought. He had someone back up there to keep him warm, at least. Ste stopped by a wall, just round the corner from Brendan's hotel, and he leaned back against the wall, dropping his bags down by his feet. He rested his head against the cold brick, wishing he could just slump down to the concrete beneath him, that the earth would just swallow him up and he could forget this ever happened. Go back in time, back to the airport with his husband and decide all over again, where he wanted to be. He'd be in America now, if he had gone. Starting his new life - their new life, together. It might not have been ideal, but he could've adjusted. He could've made it work, ignored everything else, and made it work with the man he married. Even if he was unhappy, even if it made him miserable, it would be better than where he currently was. Sat outside a posh hotel, two suitcases, nowhere to sleep, no real idea where he was, a stranger to everyone.

That's when his phone started to ring, barely a moment to himself. He let it ring out, go to voicemail. And again, and again. Talking to Brendan now would only make things worse, it'd either make him angrier, or his resolve would crumble and he would agree to talk to him. To go meet him, probably back at the hotel, where Brendan could get right close. Could whisper in Ste's ear, and tell him all the things he would know could win him round in the end. A man like Brendan Brady didn't generally do "sweet talk", but if he knew it'd get him somewhere, he'd stop at nothing. Ste could hear it ringing in his ears, apologies, words that he'd longed to hear for so long from Brendan, and he found himself craving it. As he stood in the cold, alone, he wanted it. The warmth of the room, the company, the comfort Brendan could give him, to make him feel better. That fire in the pit of his stomach, that same one he got every time he so much as looked in his direction. That's what he'd planned on, tonight. That's what he wanted.

Ste let himself slide down against the wall, his bum hitting the cold floor, and he brought his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. He fumbled around with his phone, opening up a search engine. He needed to find somewhere to stay, sleeping outside and developing hypothermia wasn't an option he was ready to consider. He typed in;

hotels in dublin, ireland

And scrolled through the hundreds of results. Names of hotels he could barely pronounce, all nice-looking, all afforable. It was just finding them that would be the problem. He didn't even know how to flag down a taxi in this place, or what a taxi even looked like, let alone find a hotel all by himself. He felt his phone buzz, and closed the page. A text message, surprisingly. He must've given up trying to beg over a phone then. Ste opened it.

Meet me at the bridge. 10 minutes. Please.

Sent; 21:06pm

Sender: Brendan

He wanted to text him back, tell him to fuck right off because he wasn't in the mood to so much as think about him right now, he didn't want to see him ever again. He wanted to throw his phone away, as far as humanly possible. Throw the message away, ignore it, forget about it - throw the man away, out of his life for good. Instead, he sighed in defeat - grateful nobody was around to see it, and got up. He picked up his bags, and started to walk down the streets. He didn't exactly know where he was going, and like hell was he prepared to ring Brendan up and ask him for help. All he knew was that he had seen a bridge earlier on in the night. It had reminded him of Christmas, when he saw it. Lit up so bright, so beautiful.

It must've taken him about 10 minutes to get to the beginnings of the bridge, itself. The amount of people, Ste had never seen so many in his entire life. They were everywhere, cheerful and happy. Couples, families, friends, a group of drunken women out on some hen do, Ste guessed from the feathery tiaras and bright pink handcuffs hanging from their dresses, shouted something at him, and he laughed. Ignoring them. It was even busier on the bridge, he could barely see through the crowds long enough to even try and look for any sign of Brendan. He made his way through them all, weaving in and out, apologising when he hit people with his bags, politely saying excuse me but then shoving people out of the way when they ignored him.

And then he saw him, stood by the railings at the height of the bridge. Thankfully, alone. He was staring out into the dimly lit city. Ste made his way towards him, suddenly finding it a bit more difficult to breathe, his palms were beginning to sweat and the grip on both bags started to loosen, his legs felt a little bit like jelly, threatening to collapse underneath him at any given moment, and he wanted to slap himself. Curse himself over, and over, for still letting Brendan have this effect on him - even when he's meant to be angry at him. He still is, he knows that he'd end up trying to hit him given half the chance, he just isn't as angry as he initially was.

He didn't say anything once he got closer to him. He just stood behind him, and dropped the bags - loudly - at his feet. Brendan swung round, almost giving himself whiplash from the speed, and his eyes widened. Ste refused to react to the way Brendan smiled, in what could only be described as relief to see him, at him. He refused to look at him in the eye for too long, to acknowledge the painful sadness he could see. The same sadness he's seen for months now, only intensified.

"I didn't think you were coming." Brendan admitted, a little shyly.

"Almost didn't." Ste answered honestly. Keeping his promise to look everywhere but directly at Brendan, even if it meant looking at the floor, focusing on the dried up piece of chewing gum stuck to the railings. Anywhere but him.

"What made you change your mind?"

Ste shrugged. "Dunno. S'not like I've got anywhere else to go, is it?"

Brendan nodded, a certain hint of disappointment across his face. Ste didn't know what he was expecting him to stay, oh I wanted to see you? Because frankly, he wanted to be anywhere right now. Anywhere that wasn't near Brendan, the only reason that he wasn't is because - as much as he hated to admit it - Brendan was the only friendly face he knew in Dublin, and he didn't want to die in the freezing cold, either.

"You said you wanted to talk." Ste reminded him, trying to push the conversation along a little. "So go on, then. I'm listening."

"Okay." Brendan breathed, nodding once more. "Okay, yeah."

He fiddled with his hands a bit, picking at the skin around his fingers, twitching almost violently with nerves. He'd never been good with words, Ste knew that. And as cruel as it probably was, he was enjoying watching Brendan squirm a little bit. Watching him shuffle from side to side, it gave Ste the tiniest thrill of knowing that he was the reason Brendan was so up-in-arms. It was him who had this effect over the man. He made Brendan Brady nervous. How many people could say that?

Brendan ran a hand through his hair, messing it up, before slicking it back down at the back. "What you saw back in the hotel," He began, "That was nothing. It didn't mean- .. I wasn't expecting .." He sighed, "If I had known you were coming, I would never have-"

Ste stopped him, holding up a hand to silence him.

"Yeah, you would." He told him. "But you would've just been a bit more secretive about it."

Brendan shook his head, "No."

"Yeah, you would!" Ste repeated, louder this time. "Then you would've met me somewhere like this, after, and fed me some bullshit story about how 'alone' you was back in the hotel. You've done it before!"

"That was different!" Brendan matched his volume.

People had started to notice them a little bit, now. A few random strangers kept glancing over in their direction, Ste saw from behind Brendan, talking about them. Probably wondering why anyone would stand outside to have an argument, why anyone would publicly air their dirty laundry in such a crowded place like this. Brendan had noticed it, too. He turned to look at the couple who were still watching, and Ste could only imagine the way he looked at them, because they were quick to turn their attention to the floor they were both stood on.

"That was different." Brendan muttered, his voice so low that Ste almost didn't hear it. "Things aren't like that anymore."

Ste had to agree with him there. Everything had changed a considerable amount since then. Since he scammed Brendan out of tens of thousands, since Brendan had booked that fucking hotel room to try and get him into bed - without even so much as apologizing for all the shit he'd put Ste through in the past, thinking Ste was that easy, thinking he had Ste that much under the thumb. They were both in different places, now. Better ones.

"I split up with Doug," Ste announced flatly. He held up his left hand, bringing attention to his now ring-less finger. "He's gone to America."

"I'm sorry." Brendan didn't look surprised, but he was sincere, at least.

"Don't be." Ste waved a dismissive hand. "It's better this way, anyway."

Brendan cocked his head to the side. Confused. "How d'you figure that?"

"Well," Ste started. "It in't fair to stay with someone if your heart's not in it, is it? If you want ... different things."

That was when Brendan looked away. That was when something registered in his eyes, on his face, and Ste could see it. Clear as day. He wasn't uncomfortable with what Ste had just implied, he wasn't looking around to see who had heard, or whether people were looking at the freakshow. Nothing of the sort. He just looked scared.

He was staring down into the water, his fingers tapping the metal without rhythm.

"Dunt matter, anyway." Ste looked over the bridge, too. Down into the water. "S'all in the past now, innit."

"Mm."

Brendan didn't understand, though. He found it difficult to. The way Ste had just turned up - out of the blue - at his hotel, getting upset, leaving, ignoring him. He could understand why, of course he could. It didn't take a genius to work it out. He promised himself that by leaving the village, it would be better for everyone. Ste could have the life he deserved, the happier life with less complications, the safer life. He wouldn't be able to hurt him anymore if he was all the way in Dublin, with him going to America. He wouldn't be the cause of his pain anymore, or the reason he cried. Except it had gone the total opposite. He was the reason, for it all. He had made Ste cry, he had hurt Ste, even when he wasn't even trying to. Everything he seemed to do, it hurt him in some way. That was why he couldn't do this. He couldn't go there, and he couldn't drag Ste back into his fucked up life, because he knew he would only drag him down, too. He'd ruin him, grind him down until there was nothing left, and it'd kill them both. He took a step back, distancing himself from Ste as much as he could without causing suspicion from the boy, and let out a shaky breath.

"You should go." Brendan declared suddenly. "Back to Douglas, you should .. you should be with Douglas, Steven."

"Right." Ste didn't even need to contemplate it. It wasn't up for discussion. He wasn't going anywhere. "You reckon?"

"He's good for you."

"Sometimes good isn't always right though, is it?" Ste questioned. "Like, if it dunt make you happy anymore, you shouldn't stick with it just 'cause it's good."

Brendan shrugged, and then shook his head. "No. No, I guess not."

"So stop telling me what to do, then. I'm not off back to Doug." Ste said with such finality that Brendan had no other choice but to oblige, and not say anything else to try and argue the point. They stood in silence for several minutes, Ste watched the water beneath them. The current pulling it in one direction, thinking about how sometimes he felt like that. Like he was controlled by something much stronger than him, something that kept dragging him in one direction - even if he didn't want to, even if he tried his best to run away from it, he always seemed to end up back here. With him, with Brendan.

Brendan watched Ste, watched his eyes follow the water with such concentration that he wondered what he could find so fascinating about one river that wasn't particularly special, and looked murky and filthy now that there was light shining down into it. He noticed the way his nose had turned red at the tip, from the crisp air. The way his lips had turned the faintest of blue. The way his ears had become bright red, and Brendan bet that if he touched them with a bare hand, they'd feel like ice blocks against his skin.

"Cheryl told me, y'know." Ste said, quietly. "About what you did."

"What?"

"At us leaving party, I went into the office and she sat me down and told me that you only hit me so I'd go away with Doug. She said that when I was in my coma, you promised that if I woke up, you'd leave me alone for good. That's why you left, that's why you did it."

His big-mouthed sister. He should've expected it, sooner or later. She never could keep a secret, even back when they were kids, she was always the one who told their parents that he'd gotten into some trouble, or that he'd had a fight with one of the kids at school and got suspended. He always managed to keep it quiet, never her, though. Keeping secrets, lying to people, it wasn't her thing.

"Yeah."

Ste turned to face him, tearing his eyes away from the water, meeting Brendan's. "What if I don't want you to, though?"

"It's not up for debate, Steven."

"Do you wanna know why I finished with Doug?"

Brendan didn't even dare look him in the eye anymore. He glanced, once, twice. He couldn't. He sensed where this was going, where he so desperately didn't want it to go, but knew it would be fruitless if he even tried to resist.

"Why?" Brendan managed to choke out, his throat feeling unbelievably closed off. The air in his lungs becoming more and more restricted. He could feel what Ste was about to tell him. Actually feel it, like pin-pricks on his skin, piercing through, layer by layer, until they got to the core of him. Not stopping until they reached a destination that only Ste ever really could. That only Ste ever will be able to.

"Cause I'm sick of it, Brendan." Ste explained, feeling brave and taking a step forward. "I'm sick of pretending that it's not there when it is, and it's killing me. How was I ever supposed to be okay with moving to America when I couldn't leave.. I didn't want to leave everyone behind?"

Ste knows that Brendan gets him. He knows that anything he says now, Brendan can read between the lines. That's how it's always worked. He's too terrified to put himself on the line completely, after last time. He doesn't want Brendan to get scared, to run away again, because fuck the idea that he'll chase him forever. It's now or never, and that's how it's got to be. Ste couldn't take spending the rest of his life, miserable, not knowing whether Brendan would be able to be the person he wants. But he knows, he knows that he can be, if he just tried. If he let himself, he could ... they could be happy. He's so sure of it, but Brendan is just standing there. Just watching him, totally still, speechless.

"If you want me to go-" And that's how far Ste got before he found himself being crushed in Brendan's embrace, trapped between his body and the cold railing behind him, Brendan's mouth on his, his hands at either side of his face, holding him in place - like he'd even try to go anywhere. Not a chance. It took him a moment or two to catch up, his arms dangled by his sides in almost a daze, his mind starting to go a bit fuzzy, his legs weakening, and that's when he clung onto Brendan, his hands gripping his arms through the leather material for dear life. If only to keep himself from falling to the ground. It was like everything started to slowly disappear, and it was just them two around. The only person on this bridge with him- in the entire world with him, was Brendan. Nothing else mattered, not a single fucking thing.

Brendan was the first to pull away, his breathing shallow and fast. He kept close, but not so close that it would take him a form of extreme strength to resist the urge to sling him over his shoulder, and carry him all the way back to his hotel. He knew that this wasn't it, that kiss didn't seal the deal, it didn't change anything until Brendan could prove himself. Although kissing Ste in public, he hoped, would be a step in the right direction. He couldn't help but look around, just to see who was watching. Turned out that nobody was. Nobody cared what they were doing, you see couples snogging every day, it's not something new. Never has been. It's not important, and nobody cares.

"They're not looking at us," Ste reassured him, looking around, himself.

"Wouldn't care either way."

Ste couldn't help but smile up at him. Real, and genuine. Happy. For the first time in a long one. A laugh escaped him, nervous and out-of-the-blue. He wasn't sure where they went from here, he was almost scared to ask.

"Am I staying?" His voice nothing more than a whisper. "Like, with you?"

"Yeah." Brendan confirmed, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, you are."

"Get me bags then, will ya?" Ste shot him a cheeky grin, and went to walk down the bridge.

However Brendan grabbed hold of his arm, yanking him back gently, "Hey, c'mere."

"Brendan I'm freezing, can we just-"

"Wait a second."

"Okay," Ste gave in. "What is it?"

"I love you." Brendan said with total ease. The words just rolling off his tongue without a care in the world. Fuck anyone who heard, he didn't care. He wanted the world to know that he wasn't ashamed, and that he wasn't scared. That he'd never felt so sure about anything. He wasn't giving up. He bent his head forward, his mouth only an inch or two away from Ste's, "I love you, Steven."

"Good job that, innit?" Ste smiled, giving Brendan the quickest kiss on the lips. Anything more, and he wasn't sure he could make it back to a hotel. "Cause I love you, too."