So, this is a sequel to Copper, starting where the other one left off.

Oh, and thanks for the plenty reviews to Copper! I actually wouldn't have guessed that the story will have much feedback or will be read much at all, so… *bows*

We will have some appearances. You will meet John and Randy, Dean, Seth and Roman, but, well, this is still AU :)

Let me put a 'warning' here, there will be golden moments, but there will be dark moments, too. Just like the summary says.

Hope you'll like this one as much as Copper. Let me know ;)

"Biscuit…"

His hands came up to the broad shoulders, fingers splaying briefly to feel, before curling into the shirt to pull himslef closer. The answer was immediate and the arms which held him tightened their hold.

"Biscuit…" he said again, desperate and happy at the same time.

Burying his face against the other man's shoulder, he got lost in a world of strong arms which held him safe, in a world of being wrapped up in warm sunlight and cinnamon and molded against a broad frame. In a world where his name being whispered by that special voice was giving him life, healed his hurting soul.

The tears which had burned in his eyes were falling now, dampening the fabric he was nuzzling against but it was okay, because he felt Stephen hide his face in the crook of his neck, felt a damp warmth there… both tears of relief and happiness. Freeing and sweet…

For long moments the world around him didn't exist while they stayed like this, holding on to each other… like on to a lifeline. In a way they had been each others lifeline, had they not? And for him Stephen was still a central theme, had been all those weeks.

The red hair tickled against the skin of his neck and it was wonderful, this feeling, and it was perfect, because this time it was okay to savor it. There was no bitter guilt ruining it. One of his hands found its way into the copper-tinged hair, his fingers diving into it. His reward was a sigh and that sigh, it carried his name…

Phil's eyes stayed glued to Stephen, who stood at the bar, getting them something to drink and Phil didn't even try to hide the pretty silly smile that danced on his lips. Stephen had suggested to come to this pub and the table they had chosen to sit was at the far end of the in a corner, keeping them more or less out of sight pretty good and even if someone saw him like this, he fucking didn't care. He had a damn good reason to smile like this. And the reason was just gazing back at him, gracing him with a bright smile.

One that lightened the whole dimmed room.

He still couldn't believe that they were here now. A few hours ago his life had been… hell… and now? Stephen was alive. And not only was he alive, he'd also come to him and just like that his depressed little world had lightened up, just like this room now. It was almost like a dream.

A dream… Phil blinked once. This wasn't a dream, was it? Just to be sure he pinched himself, hard and a hiss passed his lips, the smile becoming a tad more silly at the sharp pain and the burning afterwards. Nope, this wasn't a dream. Good…

Stephen returned with their drinks in hands and to Phil's delight he sat down close to him and there it was again. Cinnamon. He took a deep breath and, yes, his love for cinnamon had just reached a new quality. It had reached the stage of addiction.

A soda was placed right in front of him and just as he wanted to wanted to reach out for it, a loud bang ripped through the room, causing him to flinch hard and his mind told him to crouch down and hide, but hands on his arm and shoulder stopped him.

"Hey, calm down," Stephen said, the bright smile wiped off his face, being replaced by worry. "It's just been the door."

As quickly as Phil's heartrate had spiked, it went back to normal at the touch. It was almost ridiculous that to feel those hands was enough to chase the fit of panic away just like that. Embarrassment tugged at him for freaking over a door colliding with a wall. A fucking door. Staring at said door, because there was still that alarmed little voice in his head, he followed the gentle pulling of those hands, urging him to sit back down.

"Don't worry," Stephen said with a reassuring little nod.

"Huh?" Phil muttered, wrenching his eyes away from the door.

"Yer are afraid tha it'll happen again, aren't yer?" the other man asked. "Masks, guns…?"

Pressing his lips together until there was only a thin line left, Phil only dropped his gaze and he couldn't help the embarrassed and crooked not-quite-smile that spread over his face now. He shouldn't be feeling embarrassed, there was no reason to feel like that. Less because Stephen… well, Stephen knew, didn't he?

Scooting a bit closer, Stephen said: "This is a pub full of cops. The last guy who thought tha it's a good idea to come in here with a gun couldn't even finish his sentence before he had a whole armory pointing at his head. So, no need to worry, yer couldn't be more safe."

The hand on his shoulder vanished, but the one on his arm stayed a moment longer, giving it a soft squeeze, almost like an unspoken and I am here, too. And more than knowing that the pub was full of cops, it was having Stephen here that worked calming on him.

"I'm okay, it's just… The last three months have been difficult. I guess I'm just a bit exhausted and overstrained…" he said then, feeling his arm being squeezed softly again, before that hand also left.

Too bad.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Did he? He wasn't sure. Talking about the last three months now… no, it wasn't what he wanted. He actually wanted to enjoy that Stephen was back. It would be bitter enough that the memories of those few hours would come up now anyway.

"I tried to find you. I called every fucking hospital and police department, but all I got was nothing," Phil muttered nevertheless, taking a sip from his soda.

He needed to say it, because he wanted Stephen to know that he'd been searching for him.

"Well, neither hospitals nor the departments are allowed to give information," Stephen replied. "A safety-thing."

Putting the glass back down on the table, Phil turned it back and forth in his hands, mumbling: "I didn't even know if you're... alive. The last time I saw you, they tried to bring you back to life."

"The doc told me tha they had to revive me three times." Stephen's voice sounded a bit detached as he spoke. "The last thing I remember is yer asking me out for a beer and me saying yes."

Phil's chest chlenched painfully. Three times…

"You… after you said yes, your heart stopped beating," he said very quietly, but the other man had heard him, because there was a fleeting expression of… sadness?

Fuck, no, he didn't want to talk about that now, he really needed some happiness before they could dive into those topics.

"Yer don't want to talk about it now, do yer?"

He shook his head no as he looked up to Stephen. Handsome. Beautiful eyes, a perfect nose, kissable lips. Soft features… smooth, pale skin. The nicely trimmed beard framing his face just right. And a smile so breathtakingly bright and… His eyes fell on the scar on his forehead. The one the bullet had left behind and he had to gaze away.

"So, no alcohol, huh?" Stephen grinned then, pointing at the soda. "How boring."

"Nope. No alcohol. And no meat. Well, except fish," Phil said, willing a thank you to his eyes for changing the topic. "And no, it's not boring. In fact it can be highly amusing to be the only sober person in a room full of drunk people. It's a bit like dark tourism. You have no idea how many pics and videos I have stored on my phone which could be used for blackmail."

"No alcohol and no meat could never happen to me," Stephen chuckled, taking a sip from his beer then. "I love beer and food tha is made of beady-eyed animals."

The blue eyes gazed at him over the rim of the glass, mirth dancing in them.

"Oh, yeah, wonderful. What are you, a Neanderthal? Meat, fire, good or what?" Phil teased and earned a snort.

"Well, but I already learned to make some fire. Neanderthal barbecue, yer know?"

Stephen grinned and scratched his head, drawing Phil's attention back to the scar on the other man's forehead, the imperfection on the otherwise perfect skin an everlasting reminder of what had almost happened and while he gazed at it, Stephen tilted his head a bit to the side and frowning slightly, he touched the scar.

Fuck, he didn't want to go there again. Too late…

"Tha one's cute compared to the other one," he said softly and dropped his hand to the hem of his shirt, pulling the fabric up.

Phil's eyes followed the other man's hand automatically and then to what the shirt revealed. It left him swallowing hard. A big, red scar blemished the smooth white skin, the shape reminding a little of a sketched sun and it caused the hair on the back of his neck to raise, because it made the memory of all the blood too vivid… and along with his heart, his breathing quickened. No heartbeat, no breathing… a lifeless weight pressing against him…

"Phil?"

His name was spoken so very softy, still it ran through him like a jolt that woke him from a lingering nightmare, one he had found himself in every night… and everyday, every minute. In the single word lay not only a question, there was also worry lacing into it and it was now that he became aware of the fact that his hand hovered over the other man's belly, close to the scar. With a whispered sorry he drew his hand back… but it was stopped by fingers, curling around his wrist. Warm, alive.

"I don't mind," Stephen said hushed.

"What?" Phil asked quietly as he blinked slowly at him while his mind processed the message.

"The scar. I don't mind if yer touch it," Phil heard the other man say, still hushed, too goddamn softly… and wasn't there a please do it lying underneath?

But maybe he was just imagining things…

And then his wrist was free. His heart was still running, now because of what Stephen had just said. It was almost funny that there was no distance left. That distance people used to have, but maybe the distance between Phil and Stephen had simply gotten lost that day, when they went from being strangers to being the only ones they had left within a handful of minutes.

Hestitant fingerstips touched the marred skin, feeling the thick texture of the scar… tracing the rays of that sketched sun. And then Phil covered it with his palm, fingers splaying on the pale skin and the steady and gentle rising and falling of the belly under his hand was soothingly.

"I owe my life to you," he said, green eyes locking with blue ones again and he found something very soft lying in them. "Huh… I have no idea how to make it up to you."

Stephen's hand settled on his then, the shirt slipping down to cover both their hands and if possible the softness in the blue orbs became even softer. And Phil caught himself wanting this softness to belong to him and it was almost ridiculous how right this very thought felt. Or the feeling of that broad hand blanketing his own.

"And yer saved me life, so no need to."

To the softness in Stephen's eyes added an equally soft smile. And now he wanted that smile, too, to belong to him. Goddamn…

He should really take his hands away, really-really should, because the longer it stayed there, the more it felt as if it shouldn't be anywhere else than on this body. Ever again. The pale skin was smooth and soft and warm… and again his heart began to run but this time out of a completely different reason. He knew the signs. He was falling for this man and he wasn't sure how to feel about it, because all he knew about Stephen was that he was a cop and obviously a nice guy, that he looked too fucking good to be true and that he had the courage of a lion, but… what else did he know? Nothing to be exact. Five hours. He knew him for a total of five hours now and that was practically nothing. Was he in a relationship or not? Men or women? How old was he? And even if he was into guys, was there a chance that a guy like Stephen had interest in someone like Phil?

No… he didn't know Stephen. How could it be that he was falling for someone he actually didn't know?

Not yet…

"Phil? Yer okay?"

A good question. Well, he wasn't sure…

Pulling his hand back, it almost felt like Stephen tried to keep his hand there, let Phil's hand slip out from under his only reluctantly and Phil tried hard not to read too much into it. Eventually Phil's hand was resting on his own leg again and his eyes jumped to his soda. A safe place. His hand though… felt empty and cold.

You're an idiot, Brooks. He came to you, means he wants to keep contact. And don't fool yourself, you want to fall for him. You wanted it from the first minute. And this is only day one. There's so much time now to figure things out. Take it slow.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

Oh, yeah, very smooth, Brooks…

Stephen was very quiet for a moment and from the corner of his eye Phil saw something shift in the other man's eyes.

"I'm sorry, I…" he wanted to apologize, but Stephen cut him off.

"It's okay," Stephen replied then, bracing his elbows on the table as he leant forward. "No, not anymore. Yer know, when yer are lying in hospital, yer have lots of time to think about yer life and what is important or not. I… she wasn't the one."

Good. That was good. He was free. But… not good. He'd been in a relationship with a woman. On the other hand… that didn't necessarily mean that he wasn't into guys, too? Right?

"What about yer?"

He watched small droplets run down the glass and his fingers which were circling it, blinking a few times while pondering if he should say it aloud. That he was gay. If it was a good idea to do it now, or if he should wait for a better moment.

"The right person never came along," he sighed. Until now, he added in his mind. "And those I lost my heart to didn't want me."

From the corner of his eye he saw it. Again something shifted in the blue orbs and it was back, that softneness and because he needed to see it right now, needed to let it was over him, he met Stephen's gaze again. Blue… so blue, even here in this dimmed light.

Leaning forward, Stephen braced his forarms on the table and folded his hands… resting them close to Phil's. Stephen… was close… and involuntary Phil's other hand which was still lying on his legs clenched to a fist as he willed himself not to reach out like a starving man.

"Those people were blind. They missed the best thing tha could happen to them," he heard Stephen say and the thick Irish accent wrapped around those words in a forbidden sexy way.

This is going too fast, he thought at the fuzzy warmth which grew in his chest.

"Huh... I know you're trying to be nice here, but you don't know me, Stephen, you…"

"Maybe I don't know yer… yet. But I know enough to see tha yer are someone special," Stephen cut him off softly. "I spent a lot of time thinking about what has happened and…" Stephen's gaze dropped to his hands. "I'm serious, Phil. Yer had a gun pointing at yer head, still yer refused to leave me. And then yer go and say yer going with me when Pinky told me to get up…" A sigh. Heavy, strained. And maybe Stephen was back at that moment, too, this very second. "Yer knew they would shoot yer, too. Gosh, Phil, yer are special…"

Stop saying things like that, Phil thought desperately, don't put me on a podest. God knows I don't belong there…

How should he ever have a fucking chance to focus on Stephen as a friend, not more, if the other man kept saying things his heart latched on to all too willingly? And above all, he could never measure up to the picture Stephen obviously had of him, but that was the problem, wasn't it? The same problem he had when it came to Stephen. Here he was sitting with a good-looking, nice guy who had jumped between him and a gun. Going down together… he would have done it, would have died for that package of a handsome hero and even after three months of thinking about all this, about getting a sober view on the events, he didn't regret the decision he had made back then. But just like Stephen, he had painted a picture of the man who had saved his life. A picture that had obviously taken residence in his heart without him noticing it.

What if the spell that those events had left on them wore off?

It was a shy touch that shook him out of his thoughts. Stephen had his hands still folded, still resting close to his own. A finger was stretched out, the fingertip touching his knuckles. His eyes were still fixed on the blue orbs and he wished he could get lost in them, roam Stephen's mind a bit to find out what kind of feelings the other man had for him.

Fuck, he muttered in his head. Fuck this, why can't I for once just try to be happy? He's here, he wants to get to know me better and this is the wrong moment to slip into depressing thoughts. Fuck. Be thankful, be happy, enjoy the moment.

And if he shoved all the dark thoughts aside… he was happy. In fact he was feeling really good, wasn't he? Right now the world was okay. Finally. Because he had all he had wished for.

Still… there was one question that nagged at him, that he couldn't leave unasked…

"Why did you take the bullet for me?" he said then quietly.

Was it really out of habit? He didn't ask it aloud, but it clung to his question and something shifted in the depths of the blue orbs, as if a curtain was drawn, before Stephen looked down at their hands and Phil almost expected the counterquestion why he would have walked right into death with him. But there was no counterquestion, only silence. The finger kept touching his knuckles though.

Then suddenly Stephen looked back up to him, opening his mouth to speak, but the answer never passed his lips, stopped by a hard clap to Stephen's shoulder and loud voices invading their little world. The touch on his hand vanished. A second later three men dropped on the free chairs at the table.

"Heard you're back among the living and sentenced to do paperwork, Farrelly."

The words were wrapped into a rough voice. Phil let his eyes roam its owner. Dirty blond, unruly hair, a cheeky grin and the guy looked like someone he didn't want to run into in a dark alley. In fact, he didn't want to run into him at all, because somehow this man had a touch of… being a lunatic. His eyes jumped over to the other two man. The man beside him was rather lean, not that tall, watching Phil with bright and inquiring eyes and his hair… one side blond, the other black… was reminding him of… Two Face. The third guy… well. Big, broad, the long black hair falling over his shoulder like a mane the sharp grey eyes flicking back and forth between Stephen and him.

"Ambrose…" Stephen sighed, quirking an eyebrow. "Who let yer out of yer padded cell?"

"He's on day-release," Two Face chuckled, his gaze jumping over to Stephen, who in turn looked over to the big guy, who kept a straight face.

"Oi, Reigns, who are yer trying to scare with tha face, huh?"

The guy was still not batting an eye.

"Nah, we had to stop him when he wanted to tie a bow into the arms of a suspect and now he's grumpy," Ambrose said, shrugging his shoulders, before his attention focused on Phil. "Who's your little friend here?"

For some reason Stephen seemed to be not very happy about the unexpected company and Phil could only agree. He didn't like newcomers. Something about them was… creepy. But most of all he wanted to be alone with Stephen.

"Uhm, tha's Phil," Stephen said then slowly, giving Phil and apologetic look. "Ambrose, Rollins, Reigns," he introduced the three men to Phil. "Ex-members of the Special Forces and now they have SWAT printed on their asses."

Leaning over to Rollins, Ambrose drawled: "I pay, you go get it. A beer for everyone and burgers."

"Uhm, thank you, but no alcohol and no burger for me," Phil said quickly and got odd gazes in response.

"What? No alcohol and no burger? What are you, a girl?" Ambrose asked, his eyebrows rising to his hairline.

"I'm pescetarian and I don't drink alcohol."

"Pesce… what?" Ambrose muttered, looking over at his friends. "He's what? That something religious?"

A shrugging of shoulders followed.

"I eat fish but no meat. Whatever," Phil sighed, wanting nothing more than to be alone with Stephen again. "Gentleman, Stephen and I, we've just been having a nice conversation, you know? Could you please have your drinks at another table than this one? If you don't mind?"

"And no alcohol?" Ambrose cut in. "So you don't like meat, don't drink alcohol and you want Farrelly to yourself." Again Ambrose looked over to his friends, a pretty stupid grin stretching his lips. "And he can't take a joke. He isn't a girl, he's gay."

"Ambrose…" Stephen sighed once more as he leaned back, wiping a hand down his face and Phil watched a shadow cast over those baby blues.

Baby blues which looked anywhere but him.

Something in Phil snapped. Maybe it was because he had been in similar situations before and none of them had turned out good, or maybe it was because Stephen didn't look at him, didn't tell Ambrose to shut the fuck. It probably wasn't fair to expect him doing that, but after Stephen had taken a bullet for him, Phil somehow hoped that the other man would stand up for him now.

Slowly getting up from his chair, Phil braced his hands on the table and said, trying to keep his voice neutral: "You know what? You're right, I am gay. I'm sorry, Stephen, but I can think of something better than to waste my time with narrow-minded dipshits. Good night, gentleman."

With that he left the table without gazing back, walking straight ouf the bar. It was out. He was gay. And he couldn't file Stephen's reaction to Ambrose's comment about him being gay in and yes, he hadn't had the guts to wait for Stephen's reaction after he'd admitted that he was gay.

Because in this world were being homosexual was absolutely nothing spectacular and totally okay, it was still a problem to be homosexual. Contradictorily and sad… but true.

The sun was already crawling deep over the horizon when he stepped out. He hadn't come far when he heard his name being called.

"Phil! Phil, wait!"

The pace of the steps following him indicated that Stephen was about to run to catch up. His own steps quickened, too. He actually didn't know why he was running away now, since he usually wasn't a coward, but tonight it was… different. He couldn't have stayed in there, no matter how much he wanted to spend his time with Stephen, because those Neanderthals had made him admit now what he wanted to tell Stephen later… when they knew each other better. A hand closed around his shoulder gently, stopping his retreat and as gently he felt the hand urging him to turn around and face the other man. Dropping his eyes to the pavement, he did turn around. The hand stayed on his shoulder.

"You should go back to your colleagues," he muttered, still not gazing up.

"No." The word came out sharp and clear. Good? Bad? Phil had no idea. "Ambrose can be an idiot sometimes and the other two aren't much better. Let's forget about what has happened in there. Okay?"

Sighing he dipped his head back, closed his eyes for a second and thought that he should stop acting so silly, because, fuck, they had been in a much worse situation like this now. All the time he'd been waiting to see this man again and now…? It was ridiculous. Everything was good, it fucking was, and he was about to screw it all up because he was slipping into being the depressed heap of self-pity again and again he'd been for the past months…

"Look, I…" he began, not really knowing what to say though and so he just stated the obvious. "Stephen, I am gay, okay? I didn't make a joke in there."

That's what I am, who I am. Accept me the way I am or leave.

… but please… don't leave…

"I know. I already knew it back then. Yer wanted to ask me out for a coffee and told me not to be homophobic. I mean, hey, a guy asking another guy out for a coffee…?" Stephen replied, putting a tiny grin on top and Phil knew that he only tried to lighten the mood a bit.

But Phil couldn't bring himself to play along.

"Your collagues will make dump jokes about it and you having a gay friend," he muttered. "They'll probably think you're gay, too."

It wouldn't be the first time that a guy he liked had said that him being gay wasn't a problem and suddenly broke off their friendship because of dumb jokes.

"Maybe, but I don't care. Those hours back then have been the worst of me life and I'm only here now because yer were there. I thought I wouldn't get out there alive and it's been yer who made me hang on. And I know it sounds silly, but while I was stuck in hospital and rehab, it was the idea of going for a beer with yer tha helped me to get back on me feet. I want to know who yer are, Phil. I really do. I've waited the last three months for this. Don't tell me now to fuck off," Stephen said quietly and as Phil finally locked gazes with him, he found nothing but… softness. The hand on his shoulder smoothed down his arm slowly, stopping at his own hand to linger there for a moment, before the touch eventually vanished. "Let me at least give yer a ride home. Please."

Big blue eyes begged him to say yes and what else could he say but… yes? He wanted to spend as much time as possible with this man and there was also a sorry lying on his tongue. Sorry for being an idiot. Sorry for causing you a guilty conscience when none of this was your fault.

Stephen had just spilled his heart and Phil could barely believe what he'd just heard. Things that made his heart jump… and he had to go an ruin it by being irrational.

"Yeah," he replied quietly.

The sorry didn't pass his lips though.

He watched as relief washed over the other man's face and it made him wonder what he had done to deserve him…

The ride to Phil's apartment was quiet and while Phil stared out of the window, thinking about what had happened in the past hours, Stephen obviously didn't dare to say a word. The way wasn't long and soon they stopped in front of the house. Stephen followed him silently up to the front of the door, where Phil turned around so suddenly that the other man almost bumped into him.

"Stephen… I'm sorry for acting irrational back at the bar. I don't know what's wrong with me," he muttered, dropping his gaze to the ground.

"No, 's okay," Stephen replied softly, lifting a hand to touch him, but the hand fell back to his side immediately.

"No… finally I get to see you again after three months of not knowing if you're alive or not and I screw it up. It's not okay. Fuck…"

"Phil… look at me, please?" he heard him say and looked up slowly. "It is okay. The last three months have been hard for both of us and hard times take their toll. And I should have told Ambrose to stop. Can we try it again? Not at a cop bar the next time."

Can you just stop being Mr. Wonderful, please?

He tasted the words on his tongue, but what he said was: "When will you be off work tomorrow?"

"Around 5 p.m."

"Okay, great, then how about I pick you up and I'll cook us some gay-food? I promise to have some totally manly beer for you."

"Sounds perfect."

And then Stephen gave him that smile again, that sweet smile that pushed a button deep in Phil and caused him to pull the other man in for a tight hug because… it was okay to do this. Broad arms circled his back and for this moment the world was perfect again.

"Okay then… night, Biscuit," Phil said after a moment, letting go of Stephen only reluctantly.

"Yeah, night," Stephen murmured and stepped back.

With that Phil turned around and opened the door, heard steps walk away from him and when he gazed back over his shoulder, he saw him walk down the stairs. Stephen took three steps. And stopped. And then he heard him heave a heavy sigh.

This is not right…

Stepping out again, he let the door fall close, watched as Stephen sat dow on the stairs without looking back. Another sigh. Hands being brushed through the red hair. And Phil was already walking towards him before he knew what he was doing and Stephen seemed to notice him only when he was standing right behind him, turning his head only a bit in Phil's direction.

The night had arrived, bringing cool air along. The falling darkness was breached by the dirty yellow of the street lights and the illuminated windows of the houses. People were walking along the street. Cars passed them. No one looked up to them.

And no one cared as Phil sat down behind Stephen, wrapping his arms around the broad frame to pull him back tightly. His hand found to the nasty scar on the other man's belly, covering it. There was a sigh again. This time soft. He felt a hand settle on his own, the one covering the scar and he also felt fingers on the wrist of his other hand, felt his arm being pulled tighter around the body in his arms.

Ease…

Stephen had said yes when Phil had asked him out although he knew that he was gay... and now he allowed him to cling to him like an octopus, actually had pulled him even closer…

Don't read too much into it, Phil warned himself.

This friendship… bond… thingy between them needed time to breathe and grow to show what it actually was. Raising his own hopes for more wasn't a good idea right now, because the chance that he would end up disappointed and hurt was too big.

But…

"You haven't answered my question yet, Biscuit," he murmured and the way Stephen dipped his head a bit forward gave away that he knew what question Phil meant.

And then he did something Phil wouldn't have expected right now. Pressing back against him, Stephen tilted his head back against Phil's shoulder, turning his face until his temple rested against Phil's cheek and the red hair tickled Phil's skin, while one of his hands found a home on the back of Phil's neck, the soft pad of a thumb caressing the skin there… chasing goosebumps all over his body. Gosh, he loved it.

"Have yer ever looked at someone and felt like yer need to protect them at all costs?"

The statement was spoken very quietly, the words hanging in the air and it took a long second until the message sunk into Phil's mind, but when it did, any thought narrowed on those words. He'd hoped that Stephen hadn't done it out of habit, that there was more behind his action, but…

Closing his eyes, he swallowed hard against the sweet ache that exploded in his chest. One that shouldn't be there now. Not when he didn't know what way lying hidden behind those blue eyes. Not when he couldn't allow himself to fall head over heels for this man. Not yet. But he couldn't stop it.

This… just wasn't fair…

A/N

Now. Here we go, the journey starts.

At possible Shield-fans reading this, don't hit me, the boys will get away better in upcoming chapters ;3

Aaand… reviews are much appreciated :D