A/N: My new fic based loosely on the spoilers for December onwards.
Not sure if I'll keep it in this format but this seemed like a good way to set the scene and give me a forum for my Dublin scenarios ;) Happy to take feedback.
This is just setting the scene, longer than intended and fluffier than my slippers, but I do promise angst and smut to come
Please let me know what you guys think :D
15/11/2012 – Dublin.
"What are you doing here, Steven?" He asks his quiet voice almost accusing as he barely lifts his gaze from the frozen river beneath.
His question is the only sign that he has noticed my presence, in this place he shouldn't expect me. His words are the only thing to say he is even in this reality - the mist of rain that hangs between our bodies accentuates the lack of vitality in him. Brendan Brady, the man who's always been so strong, has been a fragment of himself for too long.
But I have no answer I can give him. Perhaps I should tell him that I missed him but I don't know if either of us are ready for that. I could tell him I know exactly what I'm doing, but there's a part of me that doesn't – a part that's immovable in shock and standing at my wedding twenty hours ago.
I have no answer, so I great him with sass, my defence after all.
"I only know one person in Dublin."
He hides his growing smile into his jacket, and the flicker of his gaze on me is momentary but sparkles.
I lean over the railings next to him, hoping he'll pay attention to my hands, my finger, ringless.
"Where's Douglass?"
"I don't know, it's seven so he's probably sitting down with Emmerdale right now… I didn't marry him Bren, I thought maybe you should know that."
This time, his eyes linger over me for longer.
"What happened?" He asks, he could sound angry, or bored, if you didn't know him like I do.
"There was a crash, at the wedding, a coach." I smile at the concern in his eyes, he'd spend forever and a day pretending not to care about our little village, but he'd be it's protector in a heartbeat.
"It's OK, everyone's OK, they weren't for a bit and it was… awful… But you know in the middle of it all there was only one person I couldn't stop thinking about, and it wasn't the man I was supposed to be marrying."
He smiles, making full eye contact this time, and I lose my breath as he comes back to me. I haven't missed him, I have been deprived of him, his absence has been an ache. And here now, standing next to him, breathing his air, sensing his scent, clinging to his warmth, here I am healing.
"I told you to stop watching those Pierce Brosnan movies, their gonna start messing with your head!"
We share a laugh that sounds like music, finding our harmony.
"Not him, is it! … Do you know what I'm saying?"
He steps closer to me, and that part of me that was lost in the wedding finds its way back. It's all of me that looks on at all of him. All of me absorbs the three little words that fall from his lips like a confession.
"I hope so."
27/11/2012 - Chester
"Steven," he moans, his voice wrapped in sleep.
I run my lips along his shoulder bone, and up, biting slightly against his stubbled chin.
"Steven," he repeats his voice now infinitely more awake.
I press a calf between his bare thighs and his body makes a small, involuntary, buck towards mine.
"Steven it's half eight, don't start something you don't have time to finish."
I huff a sulk against his chest. I feel his smirk against my forehead and in reprimand I bite against the sensitive nub of his nipple. I know the hand he slaps against my arse was supposed to be playful, but it bursts desire through me.
His brow raises at the moan that falls from my lips, his eyes staying closed in sleep.
"Maybe we don't have to go anywhere," I say, using my best flirtatious voice as I press my palms against his chest and grin at him. His blue eyes open slowly, making my heart flutter.
"We could phone everyone say we didn't make it back from Dublin, spend the day in bed."
"What would Douglass make of that?"
"I wasn't planning on telling him about the bed bit," I say and stick my tongue out at him. He sucks against it.
"You vanished on him for twelve days, saying it was going to be four, I think you need to open up the deli today don't you?"
I roll my eyes, why does he have to be right all the time.
"And I need to go stick my head in at the club anyway."
The comment is simple, sensible, not unexpected, but inexplicably my skin chills, and my mouth dries. Reality. Brendan and I never worked well in reality, and I don't know if I can trust that things are different this time. There's a way he smiles at me now and a way he laughs that I didn't see before, but inside I feel exactly the same. I was in love with him, before.
I feign nonchalance, nodding as I slip out of bed. But he has always seen straight through me. I sigh as his warmth presses behind me.
"Hey," he whispers, his thumb hooking my chin to turn my face to him. His gaze is deep, unrelenting as he captures mine. "I promised you, things aren't gonna change just cos we're back in Chester."
He tilts his head, asking me without words if I believe him. My sense and my love continue their never ending battle. But right now I know who I want to win the war. So I allow my mouth to answer his as we commit to a civilised meeting of the lips. A kiss that shares so much more than lust.
"I love you," I say as he pulls away. I am a fool to wait for his answer, when he has told me it won't come, but I always will.
Eventually I relent with a sigh, "so do you wanna text me when you finish work or-"
"Why would I need to do that?"
"Well I was just thinking you could tell me when you're free so I could come around, but yeah I guess it's first proper night back innit so you probably wan-"
Fear thrashes within me but he silences me with a finger pressed against my lip.
"Why would I need to text you if I can just come home to you, right?"
22/11/2012 – Dublin
Love.
He's used the four letter adjective about Dublin, his local, his whisky, almost continuously since I got here. I get that this is Brendan Brady and he doesn't share those things lightly, I signed up for that, but then he should ban the word from his entire vocabulary. I also know that it shouldn't be that important, that that little phrase shouldn't mean that much, especially given the deep and meaningfuls we've shared over the last week; or the times he's fucked me like our souls were reconnecting. He kisses me in public now, and holds my hand, mainly to cross the road so I feel like a little kid, but they're signs of… something.
I want the words though - and I want him to say it first. Now it means something, now it will be a promise, I want him to say it with feeling. I need him to tell me he loves me, which is the reason I'm slaving over this stove preparing him his favourite meal when he's disappeared to "work". This is Brendan Brady - the way to his heart might be through his stomach!
I turn back to the prepared chillies on the chopping board, I swear I sliced them two minutes ago, but they've vanished, and so have the other ingredients. So lost in my rant about him I'm going insane. I grab more, placing them on the board before turning to toss the onions in the pan. But when I turn back to the work surface they've gone and there's just a jar of jam.
Strawberry jam.
My lips quirk in realisation. I almost call to him, but if he wants to play I guess we have a forever now. I put the jam back in the cupboard, slicing the chilli. The next time I turn back, there are no chillies and there's a white stone sitting on the jam.
He let my hand seek the warmth in his jean pocket as we walked along Killiney. My eyes trailed along the beach in front of us, and that's when I saw it, a pure white stone, with an arc at the top and a point at the base. A heart.
"What?" He asked.
"Nothing."
"No, come on, I know that smile, what is it?"
His hand lingered on mine before he let me go so I could walk the few yards to pick up the stone. I knew I had the most ridiculous smile on my face as I retrieved it. As he looked at it, his eyes grew darker – pensive. He turned it over in his hand and smoothed the middle with his thumb. It felt like such a significant gesture my heart swelled.
"It's a stone Steven, there's a million other ones right beside you – why this one?"
Then he made me feel stupid.
"Oh I guess it was just something in the way the light catched it I guess or-" I began our walk home, but he grabbed for my hand, his fingers interweaving mine.
"Y'know years ago this was a jagged piece of rock, time and the waves and the other stones on this beach have smoothed it down, shaped it, so it ends up looking like a heart. Time has changed it from something hard to a symbol of beauty, unity and romance. Should be recognised that." He said, and I didn't miss the way he pocketed the "stone."
He might not have said it but within his gaze I felt cherished. What we have is more than words.
The stone glints on the jam jar now and I can't help but giggle.
"Stop it you idiot, I love you," too late I realise the words that have fallen from my lips and I feel my heart sink into the awkwardness that's rising.
I stare at the hob trying to busy myself with the frying pan, and only feel his presence coming closer to me.
"What did you say?" He asks.
"I called you an idiot."
"No Steven what did you say?"
I look up at him, he's wearing that suit, the one I remember most, and that white shirt with pink collor – the one I could never forget. I'm not the one who's frightened to admit where my heart lies. I square up to him, and my shoulders hunch defensively.
"I love ya, don' I?" I say, and physically count every second it takes for him to answer. An answer that doesn't come, except in a low sigh that escapes his lips and drags my head down.
Eventually, he takes a step closer to me, and my jaw tenses with nerves. With a thumb pressed against my chin he lifts my face to him. There are no words, he just kisses me, pressing me back against the worktop. His lips sink into my neck, right there; and his thigh seperates mine – presses up so my body can't help but respond to his.
"Brendan - the food," I barely muffle a pretence at resistance.
"Don't care," he breathes against my skin.
It is no sign to tell me he loves me but at least it's not rejection.
Our bodies move sinuously across the floor, this time he turns me around to take me deep, so I'm faced against the floor. I tell myself not to notice that it's the first time his eyes haven't connected with mine as he's fucked me. His body draped over mine, his persistent kiss against my shoulder, the continuous roll of my name with his tongue – these are the signs I need. Afterwards he pulls me to him, and buries his head in my hair. There are words he whispers that I barely catch in the haze, almost like,
"You're a fool Steven."
I don't push for them.
As time drags on my skin cools against his and he picks his shirt to cover us. I shift minutely.
"Are you OK?"
"Yeah, fine." I say though my jaw almost tenses over the lie, and I know there isn't a minute that he believes it.
"I got you something…" he says reaching for his trousers, "I was planning on waiting, till you at least had some clothes on, but now seems like as good a time as any."
What he retrieves are a set of keys.
"Oh yeah that's great thanks, will be helpful tomorrow if you've still gotta go to work – I may explore."
"I already had a spare key to the flat Steven, these aren't spare…" He lifts the keys in front of us and they dangle in the sun, hard edges shining.
"They're not?"
"I'm giving them to you. This one is for here," His whisper is slow as he indicates each key in turn. "And this one's for my place in Chester."
There's silence as my mind rushes to catch up with the enigma of him. I feel a smile pull the corner of my lips.
"I'm not saying you have to move in… if you don't want, I'm just saying… I'm serious."
His hand curves my chin, tilting my head to face him, as his gaze searches for mine.
"You know?" He asks, and I nod once because I sure as hell hope I do.
He presses his lips to mine, almost tentatively like he needs guidance and I shape our kiss as sweet and long.
"You OK?" He repeats as I pull away.
"Yeah, course," and this time I offer an excuse to explain the darkness in my eyes; "bit gutted about dinner but-"
His hand trails down my cheek and I forget my words.
"Are you sure that's it? I get the impression there was something else you wanted me to say?"
It unnerves me – how he always knows exactly what's in my heart. He releases my words quickly.
"It's just I told you, and I bloody came out here for you, and it's just a simple phrase and its not like you've never told me before. I mean I do get why you can't say it – I think but-"
His finger pressed against my lips silences me.
"Don't think I haven't said it because I haven't felt it, in this last week I've felt it more than ever, in this last year for you more than anyone I've ever known. Know that."
He pauses, and I feel the words shine over my skin, the glaze in his eyes the only reassurance I need.
"But that's why I haven't said it – to you from me it won't be just a simple phrase, this time it will be a promise of forever. I don't wanna say it like last time when I'm trying to tempt you into bed, or because you've just given me the most amazing orgasm. I don't wanna say it like others would and I'm sharing some cheesy moment with you abounding with cliches, if you want someone like that then you don't-"
It's my turn to silence his words, I chose a kiss.
"You are the only one I want."
"Good, don't think though that when I tell you I'll be telling you every day, you're an annoying twirp and there's some days you-"
"About to spoil it Bren-" I say, moving up from cold and uncomfortableness more than anything.
"OK. I will tell you Steven;" at the door he catches me, and as I turn to face him and we share a smile so sweet I don't tease him about his next sentence. "Even if you have to wait till our wedding day."
27/11/2012 - Chester
One glance in Brendan's mirror confirms the worst – I should have gone home last night. As it is I'm going to have to rock up at work wearing a T-shirt and jeans and not the uniform I insisted on. Or risk being an hour late, and causing more of Doug's tears. And I'm far too tired for any of it, I hate the first day back after holidays.
"Have I told you how much I like that shirt?" Irish tones carry from behind me and my gaze meets Brendan's in the mirror.
Lying in bed, he's propped up against the wall. His arms stretched over his head, biceps bulging. Duvet barely pulled over his expanse of masculinity – so I can barely remember to forget he's naked. I guess life's not too bad.
"Steven Hay I do believe your blushing!" He beams, and my eyes flick to my reflection in horror. Fuck – he's right as well. Compliments from Mr Brady are so rare that the presence of each sparkles like a firework.
"Am not. You need your eyes tested you."
"Oh come on don't deny me Steven, you know how sexy it is when you blush."
"Point proven," I roll my eyes – so there are occasions when his compliments are just clichéd.
Before I know it he's crawled towards me in the bed, hooked his hands around my waist and pulled me back so I'm flat out underneath him. I huff out a surprised laugh and he beams like a Cheshire cat. His body boxing around mine, above me he traps me.
"So what we doing this weekend?"
"I have the kids Friday and Saturday."
"I know."
"And Dec's arriving on Sunday."
"Saturday actually, he phoned last night."
"Oh that's great."
"Is it?"
"Means you get to spend more time with him, don' it?"
He nods, "Hmmm."
And then bites his lip that way he does when he's planning and formulating.
"Not quite what I was thinking though - It means there's an afternoon where all the kids are down together, thought maybe we should take 'em bowling or something…"
"Bowling?"
"Yeah, or I don't know we could do something else together."
"Together - like a family?"
He chuckles, that way that I hadn't heard until the second day in Dublin, the way that's becoming so familiar now. Happy, and proud.
"Yes, yes, like a family – if you like?"
I pretend to mull it over, although we both know how fast my heart is trembling.
"Hmmm, well family sounds alright I guess, don't it?"
He presses one hand either side of my head, so he's leant directly over me.
"It sounds more than alright Steven," he breathes before creating our kiss.
His mouth treasures mine, sweet and soft, his tongue gently licking at my lips. And when he pulls away he lets me chase his embrace.
He cups a hand around my face, tracing my chin with his thumb. I can feel the love in his eyes. But there's that doubt from before, and I remember his gaze as he drove away from me eighteen months ago. I wanted what he had offered so badly but it scared him and I lost him. What if doing this now pushes him too far?
"What's wrong?" He coaxes and I sigh, it was easier being with someone who couldn't read me.
I avoid his gaze, lacing his crucifix between my fingers.
"Nothing…"
"Come on."
"Just, do you think we're ready for this?"
His fingers weave mine, pressing tip to tip. He waits till my gaze meets his.
"I'm sorry we never made it to Disneyland, Steven. But yes, we're ready, I think we were ready back then, it's me that's taken time to get here."
"And now?" I ask seeking his truth.
When he smiles at me, I feel like I'm ethereal.
"Now… I want our family more than I think I could tell you."