A/N

So I promised myself that I wouldn't post this a) before I had finished it and b) without making progress on NLB (which I will up date eventually, I just can't promise when), but I was working on this today and couldn't wait any longer!

It's set in a not unfamiliar Hollyoaks world though not really canon. Aiming for longer than a one-shot but probs not as long as a full on saga, but we'll see how it goes...

THE KNOCK OUT

Chapter 1

'Yoga? Are you being serious?'

'Come on Ste! You said you'd do whatever it takes. It's meant to relax you, you know, get rid of stress..' He could read between the lines of what Amy was saying. 'You haven't been yourself lately. I'm worried you're going to start hurting yourself…or me again,' she added quietly.

'I meant it when I said I'd do whatever it takes, right? But I'm not going to hurt you ever again and I'm not going to some poxy yoga class!'

'Just think of all the hot women in skimpy clothing. I'm giving you a free pass to go and perv on them. You should be pleased!

He really had meant it when he had promised to sort himself out. There was no way he was going back to taking his anger out on the mother of his kids, but there was no way she was going to convince him to do this. And he couldn't exactly tell her that the incentive of watching all the yummy mummies in their leggings really wasn't doing it for him. If only she knew the real reason he had been so distant and snappy recently. Thank god she didn't. The kiss with Doug had meant nothing. He kept telling himself that it had only happened because they were such good friends, had spent so much time together supporting each other through starting their own business. And he wasn't… neither of them was…

'Tell him Cheryl,' Amy's voice snapped him back to reality.

'What's that love?' Cheryl replied, her mass of blonde curls appearing in the doorway as her stilettoed feet he clattered into the deli.

'I'm trying to convince Ste that a bit of exercise would be good for'im, you know, help him de-stress.' The sympathetic squeeze she gave his arm as she spoke certainly wasn't helping. It felt more like a tourniquet.

'That's a great idea, love.'

'See!' Amy threw a smug glance towards him.

'I mean, the only exercise I get these days is trying to get down the stairs in these heels but our Bren swears by it. And if a bit of boxing and lifting all those weights can keep him on the right side of human then it gets my vote!'

'Yeah boxing and lifting weights, not a bleeding yoga class full of women!' Ste protested.

'Hey, I've got an idea love. If you'd rather do some more manly exercise, why don't you go and see our Brendan? I'm sure he'd be glad to give you a few pointers, maybe even a few personal training sessions?'

'That's really kind Cheryl but I don't think we can really afford…'

'Nonsense love, I'll give him a call now. Let him know to expect you. And don't worry, I'll tell him to make sure he does you a good deal, mates rates so no arguments.'

'Honestly Cheryl, you don't need to do that. It's fine, I'll give the yoga a try, I'm sure it'll be great.'

'You've changed your tune!' He wasn't sure if Amy sounded more smug or shocked. What he didn't like to say was that he'd only seen Brendan once from a distance, and that had been enough to terrify him.

'Well, Brendan must be dead busy, running that place as well as the club, mustn't he?' He was floundering as he tried to cover up his real feelings. 'And I'm not sure I'm really cut out for boxing or anything like that..'

'I would say you could pay him back in paninis but you definitely wouldn't be able to afford that. Knowing our Bren and his appetite, he'd eat you out of house and home!'

Ste laughed nervously while Amy remained smugly oblivious.

'Ta for this love,' Cheryl picked up the coffee cup waiting for her at the end of the counter. She plucked the biggest cake sampler on the counter as she headed towards the door. 'Gotta run. I'll tell Bren to expect you after work.'

xxxxxx

'So, how was it?'

'Yeah, good actually.' Although he had hated every moment of the training session, for some reason he couldn't stop a smile creeping over his lips when he thought back to on the evening. It must be those exercise hormones or something Brendan had told him about.

'Aw Ste!' Amy squeezed him into an almost suffocating hug. 'I knew it would be good idea!'

Brendan's boxing gym was in a converted warehouse on the other side of town, down by the canal. The area was rough and disused, and the building itself appeared as imposing as the owner had done on that solitary occasion Ste had seen him

As he pushed through the doors he could already hear the smack of gloves and the squeaking of shoes as feet and fists pummelled into solid substance. The thought made him shiver. The air smelt metallic and damp, adding to the uncompromising, masculine atmosphere.

Ste was now even less convinced than he had been earlier that this was a good idea, if that was even possible. There had been enough violence in his life already. Maybe yoga really was a better idea after all. He was about to turn on his heel before anyone noticed his arrival, feeling desperate all of a sudden for some fresh air, when he collided with a large pair of breasts.

'Careful love!' The words came through pursed lips that shined with a thick layer of deep red gloss. His immediate thought was how out of place this stunning brunette dressed in skin tight black lycra and sky-high heels looked in such a stark, industrial setting. He wondered whether Amy would have been so encouraging of his sporting endeavours if she'd known that women like this hung about the place. She wasn't exactly the wholesome, unthreatening yoga mum that he thought Amy would have had in mind.

'What's the matter with you? Cat got your tongue?'

'No I was just…' She was staring at him expectantly, eyebrows arched. 'Brendan,' he finally managed to spit out with something of a stutter. 'I was looking for Brendan.'

The woman chuckled to herself.

'That's funny, usually people pull that face after they've been in the ring with Brendan, not before! You must be Ste. Cheryl told me you were coming. I'm Mitzeee. Three e's. Come with me.' She flicked her head towards a door on the far side of the room.

They pushed through into a large office where a tall figure was knocking seven bells out of a private punchbag.

Ste was suddenly aware that he was staring and had to force himself to blink. The man was topless, the harsh lighting emphasised his lean, glistening torso.

'Brendan, love. This is Ste.'

Mitzeee thrust him in the man's direction. Brendan glowered at him through half-closed lids as if assessing him, calculating his attack. As Ste dropped his eyes down out of the firing line he couldn't keep his eyes off the beads of sweat that were teasing down the cleft in the man's chest and into the thick, downy hair of his torso.

'Steven.' Brendan pulled off his glove and held out his bandaged hand.

'It's just Ste, actually. Ow!' The man had practically crunched the bones of his hand as he shook it.

'Steven then. Good.' He turned and picked up a towel from the desk then pulled a plain white t-shirt over his head. His accent as he had spoken was softer than his sister's, no hint of her shrillness, his words dripping from his tongue like caramel.

'I'll leave you boys to get acquainted,' Mitzeee said as she turned towards the door. Ste could have sworn that she had thrown a knowing wink in Brendan's direction as she left, the beginnings of a smirk playing across her lips. Was his discomfort really that entertaining?

'Right, let's get you started.' Brendan grabbed Ste's bag from his limp grasp and chucked it in the corner.

Brendan proceeded to put Ste through paces that he didn't even know he had. He was breathing hard and sweat was pouring from his brow. He now realised why those 80s gym bunnies wore those ridiculous headbands. Not even the kitchen during a heatwave had him dripping like this. It was torture.

Just when he thought he couldn't take another second, Brendan stood up, slapped his hands together as though clearing dirt from them and said, 'All done.'

Ste's shoulders visibly dropped with relief.

'Warm-up's over kid. Time to make a fighter outta ya.'

Ste was too out of breath even to manage a protest. That was only the warm up? This was worse than he had feared.

Before long, Brendan had bandaged up Ste's hands, secured on a pair of gloves and demonstrated the basic stance and fundamental boxing shots. It didn't look too hard. What was all the fuss about?

For the next 30 minutes, Brendan stood before Ste barking out combinations for him to punch into the pads Brendan held in his hands. By the time they were done, Ste's arms felt like jelly. He was struggling to hold them up. The gloves felt like they were lined with lead.

'Well, at least you've got the build for it.' Brendan had looked Ste up and and down during a quick breather. The intensity of his gaze sent a fresh flush of warmth surging over Ste's cheeks. He hoped it went unnoticed, given his sweaty state.

Ste had always been so ashamed of his body. But if Brendan said so then maybe this was something he could be good at after all. 'That's if we can put some muscle onto those scrawny chicken arms of yours,' he added. Or not.

'Hey! I'll show you scrawny!' He went to hit the pad that Brendan was holding with all his might, blow after blow - jab, jab, cross, jab, jab cross, thud, thud, thud. But this boxing was harder than it looked. The faster he tried to do it, the more he felt more like he was flailing, trying to keep himself above choppy water, a drowning man.

'Feisty for a slip of a thing, aren't we? I like that!' Brendan wasn't even trying to hold back his amusement.

The older man's laughter sent Ste pushing and shoving his arms once again into the pad with all the might he could muster. The outburst was short-lived though, as his lack of fitness began to tell again almost within seconds. He bent forwards and put his unwieldy, gloved hands on his knees, letting his head hang as he desperately tried to get his breath back.

'Alright then Bambi. Enough for tonight.' Brendan threw a towel at him that he just about managed to keep hold of between his gloves. 'Same time tomorrow!' He shouted as he turned and walked off back into his office.

'So tell me all about it!' Amy sat down next to him as though she was interrogating him for gossip.

'Thought I was going to die, Ames. And that Brendan, he's well scary. But…'

'But what?!'

'It was... good…'

'I knew it! So you're going back then?'

He reflected back on the evening. Pleasure and pain. Such an addictive combination. That smile he couldn't help crept back across his lips.

'Yeah I think I just might.'

Amy had cuddled up closer to him in bed that night than she had done in weeks.

'Sorry Ames, I'm exhausted.'

It was a lousy excuse and he knew it. It had been weeks since they'd fucked, months even, but as he kissed her hair he could hear her murmur as she turned over and let him him spoon her instead. She was happy enough. He could make her happy. So why didn't that feel like enough?