Event- Stephen's surprise birthday celebration.
Venue- Stephen's house in that shite estate that the world forgot.
Time- One am until- we'll see how it goes...
Attendance- Brendan Brady and Stephen Hay.
Dress code- Clothes optional.
-0-0-
Let's just get one thing clear. I'm not one for pointless words and sentimentality so don't get too excited about what you have just read.
Stephen's surprise birthday party.
I'm only doing it because I've got kids and he has kids. What I mean is, Stephen and I are, both of us, fathers. Parents. And I know how important it is to have parents in your life that make you feel like you are significant.
Like you are loved. I live and die by that. Family comes first. My kids come first.
So if his parents have made him feel insignificant, like scum, I want to show him that he isn't.
That he has worth.
It is like I told him yesterday,
"It is not your fault you can't pick your parents. Some of them are plain shit."
That is all this is so don't go getting ideas about Stephen and me and what we are about.
Fuck. Everyone makes opinions about other people's actions and tries reading into things that aren't there...
If you promise not to get all emotional like Stephen does (thinking about relationships and dating and stupid feelings between two men) then I'll tell you all about the rest of the night.
Because I figure you might be interested in what happened after I ended up with whiskey on my designer suit and piss-drunk Stephen let us into his house in the middle of the night.
The truth is this was always how poker night was going to end but the lad had no clue. I was always going to cut the night short for part two of our night. The whiskey was always going to end up on my suit.
My suit was an unfortunate casualty of my plan to get Stephen and me out of there.
What was not in the plan was for him to get drunk.
It means he may not be any use to me tonight. Inconsiderate fucker.
Yesterday, when I asked him to help me out with the game, he was lying on his back below me, naked as the day he was born looking all fucked out and sated.
He thought he knew the deal. In fact, when I told him about the card game, his reaction was,
"Why don't you just say it, Brendan? You want me to help you cheat again."
"Fine." I said quietly, leaning down to lightly bite at the flickering pulse in his neck. "You got me. Fancy being Sundance Kid to my Butch Cassidy?"
I gave him a smile.
"Who?"
I laughed and gave him a kiss. "Never mind."
He stayed serious and whispered, "I don't want to do it. It's not right."
And then he groaned. I wasn't being fair, really. I was sucking at the spot in his neck that makes him squirm. I know it gets him every time. He becomes putty. He'll do anything.
Anything. But now was not the time to test him between the sheets. Now was about winning him round.
My lips moved down his chest and lower still. Persuasion. I was not taking no for an answer. I felt his breath hitch as I got to the scanty hairs just above his cock.
"Brendan." He moaned and threw his head back.
I looked up at his open gasping mouth and the dark blown pupils of his eyes.
I had Stephen just where I wanted him. Desperate. I was holding out on him. I knew what he wanted. But he wasn't going to get it until he agreed to poker night.
"Yes?" I replied stopping my trail of kisses.
He combed his fingers through my hair and firmly pushed me down towards his groin. Cheeky bold fekker. I should tell him. I should.
"Okay. I'll do it." He whispered. "But it's the last time."
I hid my smile. "You won't regret it."
And then I showed him thank you.
-0-0-
But I am ahead of myself. I should tell you about a meeting I had in the afternoon before Stephen came round to my flat. It might make things a little clearer for you about what poker night was all about.
I was pacing in my office. The door was bolted shut to avoid unwelcome intrusion. My guest was sitting in my usual chair in the far corner of the room.
"I didn't think I would be hearing from you, Brendan." Veronica said uncrossing and then re-crossing her legs slowly in her short tight black dress under a faux fur white shawl. "Not after last time. I thought we had settled our issues."
"Issues." I barked a short laugh. "Is that what the kids call it now-a-days?"
Veronica is an old partner in crime. Remember her? She robbed the McQueen home a while back. That is the skill I need from her. Breaking and Entering. She is second to none.
"I am done dealing with you, Bren."
"Now is that the way to speak to a long lost friend." I said.
"What do you want?"
"For you to break into someone's house." I stopped my pacing and checked my reflection in the round mirror on the wall as I waited for her reply. This was important.
I could see her thinking about it in the mirror's reflection.
"What's it worth?" She asked.
"A hug and a kiss." I laughed at my own joke but when she didn't join in I continued, "Oh come on, that was good. Fine. We can agree on satisfactory monetary remuneration later."
I turned back round to face her.
"What am I stealing?" She asked. She was all business.
"Nothing." I said and for the first time since the beginning of our conversation I felt uncertain. What was I doing?
"Then why am I breaking into someone's place?" I could understand her confusion. "Who is it anyway?"
"Stephen Hay." I said quickly walking up to her.
"Stephen?" I could almost hear her brain routing around for where she had heard the name before. "Not the same Stephen you asked me to hit on at your club to make his girlfriend jealous, is it?"
"It might be. I don't see how that is any of your business." I hissed.
"Temper, Bren." Veronica said with a smile. "So sensitive."
"So are you going to do this for me or not?" I asked, ignoring her comment. "You would need to bring Big Charlie along."
"When?" She asked.
"Tomorrow evening. At about ten o'clock. You'll have at least two hours while he's out. He'll be at a poker night with me."
"Nice cover." She commented.
I smiled dryly. "I thought so."
"So what am I doing?" She asked suddenly curious.
I warned her, "This is not a typical job but I will hunt you down if you fuck it up."
"So hostile, Brendan." She said mockingly, then stood up and rounded the table to stand in front of me. "You know, we are so similar in many ways. Sometimes I wonder why we never got together properly."
V caressed a long painted nail down my cheek to my chin and gave me her most seductive smile. We have shared the odd snog here and there. Nothing more and not for a long time. I never found her attractive enough.
"For more reasons than one, sugar pie." I grinned coldly at her before brushing away her hand.
"Fine. Let's talk business." Veronica said brusquely before stepping away. "I don't know what your issue is with that poor boy you work with. Messing with his relationship and now his house. You sound like the boss from hell."
"You have no idea." I smiled as I unlocked one of the filing cabinets, pulled out some papers and handed them over to her.
I smoothed my moustache as she studied them and then looked at me in surprise.
"A word to the wise, Veronica. This remains our little secret."
-0-0-
So here I am standing outside Stephen's home in the dead of night with the drunk eejit standing millimetres in front of me. I look down at the hand that he has rests against my chest. I should push it off me. We are in public and the alcohol has clearly done a number on his better judgement. But his hand feels warm against my cold liquor-drenched shirt and suit jacket. To tell you the truth, I don't mind it there. There are worse feelings in the world.
In fact, those 'fuck me' eyes that he was doing at me in the pub have put me in the mood.
It is a good job that baby-faced blonde is off to see her grandmother while Amy is with the kids at her father's.
The girls are away and the boys can come out and play.
I look around us. There is no one in the street and no one that I can see peering from the windows of his neighbour's houses.
"Now am I staying or going?" I whisper at him.
He hesitates for less than a second before brushing past me, unlocking the door to the house and looking at me with a smile.
I smile back. Phase one aka 'poker night' is over. Phase two aka Stephen's surprise birthday celebration is underway.
"A wise choice, young Stephen. A wise choice indeed."
-0-0-
I enter the house after him and shut the door before leaning on it.
Stephen turns around and looks at me while fiddling with his keys.
I love the way he gets uncertain when we are alone and there is anticipation in the air.
"Are you going to turn some lights on, Stephen?" I ask casually. "I didn't eat enough carrots as a kid."
"Um, yeah. Sure." He walks right up to me so that I catch a whiff of his aftershave. He leans in, a hair's breadth away, and extends his arm out to flick on the light switch to my side. Then he doesn't move and looks expectantly at me.
I have noticed that he has been doing this more frequently recently; he tries to find ways to get near me whether we are alone or not. Just like that sneaky brush up against me at the pub earlier. It is his way round my rule that he doesn't get to say when or where or how we come together. It is his way of initiating intimacy without actually initiating it, if you know what I mean. And I let it slide because, it is clever and it works.
I lean down and gently press my lips to his then rest my head back against the door with a smile.
"God, you taste like a cocktail bar." I whisper. "What the hell did you drink?"
He grins lazily, "Um, a bit of this and that. Just sips though, but a lot of them. Mojito, Stella, Turkey passion, Vodka/Red Bull, B-52, another Stella, two apple sour shots, Tequila Sunrise, another Stella, rum and coke..."
I shut him up with a kiss and drag my arms round his waist to pull him closer. Why does he talk so much?
I only intend for the kiss to be brief but Stephen goes crazy, delving into my mouth with his tongue so that it meets with mine and they slip and slide against each other and I find myself groaning because I can't get enough of him.
When I let go, he looks dazed, but then so do I, I'm sure.
I cup his face between my hands and look into his eyes. Fuck. He carries every emotion through them. I wish he didn't. He looks so vulnerable with that open, honest gaze that doesn't waver as he looks at me with intensity.
"I love it when you kiss me." He says quietly as he grips onto the front of my shirt.
I should get mad at his words but I can't seem to tonight. Maybe it is because this is supposed to be about celebration. But as I have already told you, this will not descend into sentimentality.
We aren't girls.
"I love it when ye use yer mouth for something other than talking." I whisper as I lightly touch his wet lips with a finger.
"Brendan!" He whines suddenly and flops against me so that I have to catch his weight. "I am so drunk!"
Yeah. I forgot about that. This isn't good. I hadn't factored in inebriation into tonight's plans.
"Do you want some water?" I ask, rolling my eyes at the ceiling.
He nods against my chest. His voice is muffled by his face against my body. "You're wet. With booze. Yuck."
"That's the whiskey you spilt."
He leans back enough to look at me with one lazy eye. The other is shut. "You spilt it."
"Whatever."
"You spilt it because you wanted to be alone with me." He slurs. Then he pushes off me to stand on his own two unsteady feet and starts taking my jacket off. "Help me unbutton your shirt, Bren."
"Um, 'scuse me?" Did he just give me an order?
"Your shirt. Now. You'll catch a cold." His impatience means that he has me unbuttoned in a flash and he tugs at my shoulders trying to peel my suit jacket and shirt off in one go.
I am so shocked that I allow him to strip me so that I am topless.
"That's better." He mutters and places a kiss over my left nipple.
I hide a smile.
"I'll get you a tee-shirt." He whips round, stumbles over a squeaky kid's toy, grins at me as if it never happened and picks it up.
"Lucas." He says as if that explains everything and then continues towards his room dropping it into the toy basket on his way.
No this is not how I planned things. I catch up to him at his bedroom's door. "Um, Stephen, wait. It's okay. You can get it later."
He looks at me oddly when I put my hand over his on the door handle, preventing him from opening it.
"It'll just take a second." And he forces his way in after I half-heartedly resist him.
What he sees inside stops him in his tracks. His jaw drops and his eyes widen. I can't take my eyes off him. This is the reaction I had hoped for.
"Wha-, Um?" I follow him into the middle of his bedroom. He then turns round to me with total surprise. A slow smile appears on his face as he catches my smug expression.
"Did you-" He looks at his room again as his smile threatens to split his smile in two. "How-"
I grin at him. "Care to finish a sentence?"
I am shocked when a second later my arms are full of Stephen. The impact is so great that he makes me lose my footing and I fall backwards onto the bed taking him with me.
"Jesus, Stephen!" I say in shock but there is a laugh in my tone.
He crawls on top of me, pinning me to the bed and litters my face with dozens of kisses. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" He whispers repeatedly.
"You like?"
He nods, "Yes! How did you do it?"
"Where there is a will, there is a way." I say.
He jumps off me and I try not to feel disappointed. I figured that while we were on his new bed we may as well baptise it... thoroughly. But maybe that is just me. Religious to a fault.
"Where are you going?" I ask without moving from my position.
He stumbles up to the new plasma TV that hangs on the wall opposite the bed. And prods it lightly. "How many inches is this?" He asks in awe.
"Many, many inches." I say lazily as I lightly caress the hairs on my chest while staring at him.
"Wow."
"Didn't realise size was so important to you." I say, working the double entendre.
He turns around to me. From surprise to horniness in one beat. "Oh yeah. It is. And I have no complaints. None at all."
He subconsciously licks his lips as he looks at my groin.
"Glad to hear it. After all, it is 50 inches wide." I laugh at my own joke. See what I did there. I deliberately misunderstood him. Funny.
"Oh my God!" He says suddenly.
"No one has ever called it that before." I quip.
"No." He shakes his head as he points at the wall to the side of the bed. "I meant that."
A funky new shoe rack is leaning on it and five brand new pairs of trainers and shoes sit on its shelves along with two of his just about workable items of footwear.
"Shit, Bren." He says in disbelief as he walks over, picks a shoe up then puts it down again. "This is too much."
"You were almost better off coming to work barefoot with some of the shoes you were wearing. The customers thought we were employing homeless people. It was putting them off. Consider this good for business." I say as I sit up and face him.
I take his hand in mine. Don't ask me why, okay. I just do.
I stand up and say, "There is something else."
I give his hand a squeeze when his jaw drops further and I drag him to the living room.
Before we go in I get behind him and cover his eyes with my hands.
"What the hell, Brendan!" He complains.
"No peeking."
I admit that this is all making me feel good. Tomorrow, he will discover the two new pairs of jeans and hot designer tops in his wardrobe and the toys I got for Leah and Lucas that are near the toy basket.
But today is about him experiencing a birthday in a way he never did as a kid. It is not about the presents alone. I get money constraints. It is about so much more.
I take my hands away.
He blinks once. It takes him a moment to clock the cake sitting in the centre of the coffee table.
It has twenty candles on it. Unlit.
Shit.
Of course. I didn't think that through.
He walks up to it with a big grin on his face none-the-less. "Is that lemon drizzle?"
I nod while picking up the box of matches that Veronica and Big Charlie left next to it and quickly light up the candles.
"It's my favourite." He says as he inspects it. "How did you know?"
"Lucky guess." I say as I recall bumping into Amy outside the Drive 'n' Buy a week ago.
She was holding a card in her hand.
-0-0-
"Who's birthday is it?" I asked offhandedly after saying 'hi'.
"Stephen's." She said. "Didn't he tell you?"
I shook my head. "Today?"
"Yes." She nodded. "He has never really made a big deal about it."
"What d'ya mean?" I asked.
"I don't think there was time for birthdays when he was growing up. He was too busy being beaten up."
She looked sharply at me realizing her words. We both ignore the depth of significance of her words. I look down. I continued a pattern that began in Stephen's childhood.
But I have changed, at least where he is concerned. Now I would kill anyone who dared threaten his safety...
I have done so once and would do it again.
"No birthday cake?" I said and for some reason I felt angry. Angry that a decent guy like Stephen hadn't enjoyed a moment where he was treated like he was special.
"No." Amy looked at me oddly. "Look Brendan, I know you and Ste had a thing but I don't get why you are so curious about this."
Had a thing. I guess Stephen and I were better at keeping this incognito than we thought.
"I'm not."I said.
She stared at me with her knowing large blue eyes.
"Look, I'm late. I've got to go." She walked away but then threw a comment over her shoulder as she headed for the council estate,
"I'm sure you don't care but he loves lemon drizzle cake."
-0-0-
"Make a wish, Stephen," I say as I hold the lit cake up to him. No, I didn't make it. Do I look like Delia Smith to you? But I had it made by the best you can buy.
He stares at me through the amber glow of fire, blows hard and then closes his eyes.
"Happy birthday." I whisper. I know it sounds daft but I realise how intimate this is as I look at Stephen's calm, serene face in the dim room. It is just him and me and a cake.
And it feels okay.
When he opens his eyes again I see wetness there; like he is about to cry.
"I can't accept this." He says quietly.
"The cake?" I put it back down.
He shakes his head. "Everything. The TV, the shoes and shoe rack, the bed." He looks around and spots the items near the toy basket that he overlooked earlier. "Is that a toy car and a My Little Pony collection?"
I nod sheepishly.
"I'm not keeping any of this, Bren."
"Why not?" I say. "I want to give it to you."
Why isn't he happy? I want him to feel that there is someone looking out for him; someone that has his back, especially since his parents didn't step up to the plate.
He shakes his head. "This isn't normal. People give each other cards and cinema vouchers as birthday gifts. Not all this. How much did it cost?"
"Mate's rates. It's not about money." I say.
He doesn't answer but instead stomps into his bedroom again so I follow. He touches the headboard of the bed frame which is made of a solid dark wood with simple clean masculine lines. The sheets and pillows that he then touches are softer than anything he has ever slept on, I am sure.
I thought that is where we would be right about now.
How wrong I was.
"And what the hell am I going to tell Amy and Rae?" He puts his hands against his mouth in panic.
"Tell them you made a killing at poker night." I smile.
"This isn't funny."
I stand and place my hands on his hips. "Yeah. Yeah it is. I don't get what the problem is."
I kiss him because I can't stop myself. I feel like it.
"Why did you do this?" He asks when he pulls away from me.
"Do what?" I ask but I know what he means.
"Buy all this for me." He says quietly.
Bastard. He is not getting me to say anything mushy and girly. I know that is what he wants to hear.
"Okay, you want to know the truth?" I ask. He nods and gives me a look that tells me what he hopes I am going to say. What he wants to hear. What he has wanted to hear for several months now.
"Yes." He says.
I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. In fact as I look at him my throat feels like it is closing up, like I can't breathe properly. I feel a surge of emotions that I battle against and try to tame into submission. But every time I am with Stephen I know they get stronger and stronger.
It will not do.
Stop staring at me with those eyes, I plead silently with him but I don't tell him out loud. It would be an admission of how much he can affect me.
I croak a nonsensical sound.
He stares at me and blinks. Once. Twice. Then he puts his hands on my bare waist (he has yet to get me a tee-shirt) and says really quietly, so that I can barely hear him,
"I love you, too."
And the world stops turning.
I feel something in the centre of my chest thud. It makes me feel ten feet tall.
But then my better judgement set s in automatically. I need to be anywhere but here.
Stephen has just confessed something that breaks the rules of our relationship in a major way. But he has also made the assumption that what I have done for him is an expression of my love for him.
What gave him that idea in my harsh words, brutal fists, and offhand use of his body over the last few months?
The little shit. I've kept it casual.
What about your murmurs of concern, tender touches, light kisses and blatant preferential treatment of him? My deeply hidden conscious reminds me.
I can't love him.
But Stephen doesn't detect my inner torment. He leans up for a kiss but I stop him.
No. This is not good. I cannot let us go there. Sentimental shit.
I am not ready for this. I mean, it is not what I feel...
Then I laugh and it sounds more like an out of control cackle. And I say words designed to hurt.
"God, Stephen, you sound like a lovesick girl! Don't be a pussy. Don't make this into something it isn't. We are having a laugh, yeah. This..."
I point at the cake, "... is a token of my appreciation for you being a sound bloke. Nothing more, ye here."
I laugh loudly again but it doesn't sound real to my ears.
I say this to toughen him up to the real world where what the two of us do in the bedroom is seen as dirty, disgusting, abnormal and wrong. That is the world I am trying to get Stephen to face up to.
In the real world, Stephen can get hurt by those bastards who do not understand. He can be taken away from me by people who think he is not worthy of life because he 'loves' another man.
I am protecting him.
There are rules. We can be together in private but apart in public. We can never use words like love. It is not an emotion that should factor into intimacy between men. It should never be used at me. I'll tell you why. Because one day Stephen is going to wake up and realise that he can do better than me and he will leave me. And not saying the words will mean it won't hurt as much.
I am protecting me.
Pain is etched on his face as my insensitive words sink in.
The next thing I know he picks up the birthday cake and throws it, extinguished candles and all, at me.
Some icing and flakes of citrusy sponge cling to my naked chest but the rest ends up in a messy heap on the floor.
"You are a coward, Brendan!" He is seething. "I may not have the quick comebacks or swagger or as many years on this Earth as you have but I am a thousand times the man you are, Brendan!"
Tears stream down his angry upset face.
I instinctively reach out to calm him down, "Stephen."
But he pulls away from me. "Because at least I can admit to who I am and what I feel. I am gay, Brendan. GAY. And I am in love with you!"
I panic. Why is he saying this?
Because I can't do 'out and proud'. I am no sissy. I just want things to be how they are with me and Stephen together without the eyes of the world upon us.
I break a cold sweat. I feel like I am being cornered.
"That's not me." I try to explain with a dry mouth. I wish he would see where I was coming from. "Why can't we stay like this?"
I pull him into a kiss but he bites my lower lip hard enough for me to pull off him.
"No!" He shouts. "I have had enough of this shit, Brendan. All of it. The stolen kisses. Quick illicit gropes. The hush money. The hidden fucks. I am not going to keep being your secret."
I feel like I have no control over this situation and I don't like it.
"I am not coming out." I say with authority.
He nods defeated. "I know you won't. You don't have to."
I sigh in relief.
He shakes his head. "Brendan. It's over."
His words ring through the room.
I stumble back from the effect they have on me. I cannot believe it. I'll be honest.
I am devastated.