Brendan skips up the stairs, two at a time, doesn't care if he looks eager, and promptly collides straight into his front door. He's stunned for a moment; the door's never locked, Steven flings it open if there's so much as a 1 degree temperature rise. He begins to panic, thinks maybe Steven's just gone and left to spare them the pain of another goodbye.
He fumbles his keys in the lock and braces himself. He's met with the familiar noise of the TV, the familiar faint smell of antiseptic, the familiar shape of Steven laid on his sofa fast asleep.
He goes in as quietly as he can, unable to take his eyes off Steven's sleeping form. He shucks his jacket, shoes, keys and phone like usual and grabs the blanket off the other sofa.
Steven's curled up on his good side, nose buried in the fluffy cushion under his head, fingers buried in the shaggy, bright pink fur in front of him and he's wearing that damn hoodie again. Brendan shakes out the blanket and drapes it over him, perches on the sofa in the space Steven's created with the S of his body to tug it up over his shoulder and tuck it around his back.
Steven stirs, snuffles into the cushion and yawns. Brendan watches him fondly, thinks maybe he's gone back to sleep until he turns his head and cracks open one eye.
"Time is it?" he asks sleepily. Brendan swallows, brings up a hand and strokes his thumb against Steven's cheek. He's suddenly fascinated by his face, can't stop looking. He gets like this sometimes, like he forgets what Steven looks like and then unexpectedly he's blindsided by it.
"'Bout two o clock, like I promised," he tells Steven softly, completely focused on the feeling of soft skin under Brendan's thumb, by the fluttering of his eyelashes, the shape of his mouth. It makes the thought of saying what he's about to say so much easier than he ever thought possible.
Steven looks bewildered, shifts onto his back and up onto one elbow.
"What's up?" he asks, frowning.
A small smile breaks out on Brendan's face; he feels giddy with anticipation, light and airy like me might just float away. His heart races and he almost wants to draw the moment out so he can savour this amazing sensation for a bit longer. He doesn't though, it's been long enough and he's finally making good on his word not to waste anymore time.
"I don't think you should leave," he says softly, almost a breath, "I don't want you to leave, ever."
Steven's gaze drifts out into the room, face blank as he processes the words, then his eyes go wide and he snaps back to Brendan looking astonished. He takes a breath, pauses, breathes out and tries again.
"You want me to stay here in the flat with you?"
"Yeah, in the flat and-" he stops, this is it, "-and with me, in a proper relationship, you and me."
"Are you serious?" Steven asks in awe, a smile pulling up the corner of his mouth.
"One hundred percent," Brendan tells him seriously, takes Steven's hand between both of his own, "what d'you think?"
"I think no way it can be that easy," he says quickly, eyes flicking over Brendan's face quickly like he's searching for something.
"That's what I thought but-"
Brendan breathes out a dazed laugh and Steven looks at him expectantly, like he wants Brendan to say the perfect thing that will finally cement everything together.
"-it can be, it will be. I can be the person you need, Steven, and you're the only one, there is no one else and there never will be."
Steven chuffs an embarrassed little laugh, smiles widely like he can't help it, looks up at Brendan with honest-to-God light in his eyes. He shakes his head and bites his lip but it doesn't matter, Brendan can see everything there is to see.
He feels reckless and thinks, fuck it, in for a penny and all that, it's not like there's any going back from this anyway, and adds, "I love you, Steven."
Steven laughs again, clear and delighted, and he leans forward to bury his head in Brendan's shoulder. Brendan cups the back of his neck to hold him close, turns his nose into Steven's hair and breathes in the smell of his own shampoo on him.
"Are you trying to kill me?" Steven says eventually, muffled against Brendan's shirt.
"Nope, just thought you should know," he replies warmly, "you gonna look at me, or d'you need a minute?"
There's a thoughtful pause and then, quietly, "-a minute."
He nods into Steven's hair, strokes his fingers across the back of his neck and waits him out. Finally he shifts back.
"Okay," Steven nods, face still a little awed, "okay, this is mad but I want- this past few months I just-" He stops and runs his fingers through his hair, "-I started to remember why I fell in love with you in the first place. I didn't even realise it was happening but then you stood there between me and Walker, ready to take a bullet for me- y'know when I thought I was dying, you know what I thought of?"
Brendan shakes his head, lets Steven's stuttered words sink in.
"I thought about my family, that my kids might never see their dad again, about what Amy was gonna do and how she'd tell them. And I thought about you, about how we never got a chance."
He's completely shocked, can't believe that Steven had laid there with his life draining out of him and his thought's were on Brendan, that they were both thinking the exact same thing. It strengthens his belief even more that they deserve this. He feels flooded with faith, strong and absolute.
"So let's do it properly, yeah?"
"Yeah?" he asks breathlessly.
"Yeah."
Brendan takes Steven's face in his hands and leans in close. He hums a little in satisfaction, tilts his head and presses their lips together for a slow kiss, pushing Steven back into the sofa cushions and leaning over him. There's so many things that he wants to do and say and he realises with elation that he has time for all of them.
He bites on Steven's plush bottom lip and sucks on it lightly as he pulls back from the kiss.
"What now then?" he asks, looks to Steven for the next step since this is all so alien to him.
"Long term?" he checks and Brendan shrugs, "move all my stuff, change my address on everything, tell Amy what's going on."
"How'd d'you think she'll react?" he asks, doesn't care for his own sake but he knows how important she rightly is to Steven.
"Not surprised? She told me how I was feeling before I even knew," Steven chuckles, "I think she's gone soft since I told her you tried to get yourself shot for me."
"Always was the brains, your Amy," he quips and gets a smack in the arm, "hey! There aint nothing wrong with getting by on your good looks."
Steven rolls his eyes but can't stop the pleased smile spreading across his face.
"The romance didn't last long did it?"
Brendan's feeling quite mushy, actually. Instead of making another joke he leans forward to press their foreheads together again.
"I'm a romantic guy, Steven," he murmurs softly, close and sweet, "and I'll prove it to you."
He slides one arm under Steven's shoulders and the other under his knees and hauls him off the sofa into his arms. He's heavier than he looks but Brendan gets to his feet without too much trouble, despite Steven squirming and laughing in his grip.
"I just came up with the short term plan, carry you across the threshold to the bedroom, lay you down upon the bed and consummate our proper relationship."
"Could you have worded that any less romantically?"
He stops in his journey across the flat, hoiks Steven up into his arms more securely and pretends to think.
"Okay, I'm gonna carry you across the threshold to the bedroom, lay you down upon the bed and fuck you until you can't string two words together that aren't Brendan and yes," he amends, "how does that sound?"
Steven's expression goes heated, pupils dilating like oil drops, and he says, roughly, "better."
Brendan kisses him quickly, swipes his tongue into Steven's mouth and sucks on his bottom lip, before continuing on to make good on his plan.