Ste

"You… remember?" I can hardly believe what I'm hearing. My heart is in my throat, a steady thrum that's almost painful.

Brendan's eyes are bright, not focused on me but instead looking into the middle distance as though he's watching something play out before his very eyes.

"I started to remember during. Some of the things you said, they were familiar."

I thought hard about that. "It's difficult to remember…"

Brendan laughs loudly, clutching me closer to his side. "Not for me, Steven!"

I'm not being entirely honest; I remember a great deal of that first night. I remember how terrified I had been, not because of what Brendan had done to me only a week before, but because of what it all meant. A part of me had fallen for Brendan that night. But right now I don't want to say anything that might tamper with Brendan's recollection and if I'm honest, I'm wary of getting my hopes up over it.

Even so, it's difficult not to get caught up in Brendan's joy. I haven't seen him this pleased in such a long time. It feels like a part of Brendan has been given back to me. He remembers me, even if it's one memory, even if it only ends up being one memory. It's enough.

Brendan's grip lessens a little, jolting me back to reality. He's staring at me in concern.

"What's the matter? Why aren't you pleased?"

"Of course I am," I say, but there's a tightness in my stomach I can't ignore.

"You don't seem it." Brendan says, frowning. I reach up to touch his face, stroking the worried lines away.

"I'm just a bit stunned, that's all."

"Don't you see what this means, Steven?" He says, talking very fast. He grabs my face in between his hands. "I could remember more, I could remember everything!"

The tightness in my stomach becomes painful. I find myself standing up.

"Give me a sec," I say, turning away from the confused and hurt expression on his face.

I go into the toilet and shut the door behind me. I immediately go to the sink, splashing cold water on my face. It clears my head a little, until I remember it was exactly the same thing I did when we kissed for the first time. How long until Brendan remembers that? How long until he remembers the first punch? How long until he remembers-

My thoughts are cut off by a loud knock on the bathroom door.

"Steven?"

"I'll be out in a minute!" I call back, taking a good, hard look at myself in the mirror. I take a deep breath through my nose, relaxing my face into something less alarming. I smooth my hair down, noting how sexed I look. It makes me smile, the memory of what we've just done. I find it in myself to open the door again.

Brendan's standing right outside, arms crossed over his chest. He's still naked, which makes it all the more amusing to me.

"What?"

"It's funny seeing you look all stern like that."

"I wouldn't need to look stern if you told me what was wrong."

My humour fades. I walk past him to the bed, sitting on the edge. I reach for my clothes. He takes them out of my hands and throws them across the room.

"Brendan!"

"You can get dressed after you've told me what's wrong."

"That's mad you know."

"I am a bit mad, I remember that a little." He grins wolfishly at me. "Would it help if I told you exactly what I remember?"

"Maybe," I say warily.

"Alright." His face scrunches up in deep thought. "So we're in a flat… I don't recognise it."

"It's our old place, or mine as it was then," I supply.

"Okay. You're wearing a hoodie with yellow on the hood. My fingers are hooked in your shirt. We're kissing, deeply."

"Mmm." I close my eyes, remembering that particular kiss. I remember the thrill it sent through me, adrenaline the only thing keeping me upright.

"We're in the bedroom. We undress each other, I notice you're shaking like a leaf." Brendan closes his eyes, a wondering smile on his lips. "I tell you we'll go slow, like you told me earlier. You nod but you still look scared. I trace my fingers across your stomach, almost in apology…"

My breath hitches, causing Brendan's eyes to open.

"What is it?"

"Do you remember why you did that?"

Brendan closes his eyes again, his face no longer relaxed. "Yes, vaguely. I'd hit you. I don't remember hitting you, I just remember the faint bruises." Brendan's voice grows sad. "I'm sorry."

"We don't have to do this."

"No, we need to." Brendan takes a deep breath. "I lay you down on the bed and we kiss for a long time. Your fingers are in my hair, tugging. I laugh against your lips. It takes you a while to relax enough for me to start doing anything. I kiss down your body, lingering on your thighs. I bite you." Brendan's face turns baffled by the last words.

"You were pretty possessive back then," I tell him.

Brendan's lips curl into a smile. "I take you into my mouth, eventually. I make it slow, like I did earlier. It drives you crazy."

I can feel myself stirring at the memory, my cock growing hard at his words.

"Then I start with the fingers. I've got lubricant. I put a whole load on, worried in case I hurt you."

"You remember that?"

Brendan nods, still in that place. "It takes you a while to adjust. You're so tight." He smiles a little. "I'm patient with you though, and when you're ready for me, I reassure you again with kisses. You cling for a little longer than necessary and don't stop kissing me as I enter you…"

"Brendan." I gulp, feeling my hands drift to my crotch. Brendan's eyes follow the movement, licking his lips.

"Why don't I show you what else I remember?" He says, pushing me back against the bed covers, hands either side of my head.

"That could work," I say. He kisses me and I forget my worries for a while.

He takes me through exactly what he remembers, right down to the bite on my inner thigh. Unlike the first time though, I'm more sure of myself. I move in the right places, especially when he enters me from the side. His hands are splayed across my belly, warm and possessive. He peppers my neck and throat with kisses as he holds me, rocking gently into me at first and then picking up speed.

Afterwards I curl myself around his body, head resting against his chest. I feel safe again, as though the bad memories can't touch us.

He kisses the top of my head, lingering there to breathe in my scent.

"You gonna tell me what that was all about earlier, hm?"

I bury my face deeper into his chest so he can't see it. He places his hand underneath my chin, coaxing me to look at him.

"I'm just a bit worried, that's all."

His face softens. "You don't have to worry."

I can't tell him why I'm worried so I plaster a smile onto my face. I can tell he doesn't quite buy it but he doesn't question me further.

Instead he threads his fingers in my hair. His touch is light and so gentle it makes my eyes feel heavy. It can't be that late yet but I'm suddenly exhausted. I know I'll ache in the morning but it'll be worth it.

Sure enough, when I next open my eyes it's morning. The curtains are still open; neither of us thought to close them before we went to sleep. I'm not curled around Brendan anymore; he's on the other side of the bed, splayed out and taking up all the space. I smile to myself, shuffling forwards to slot myself into his arms. He grunts a little before accommodating me. His arms are solid and warm around my waist. It feels so good to be held like this. To be held by him.

"Mornin'," he murmurs sleepily. His hand rests against my belly like it did last night. We're still naked and it makes me shiver in the cold of the morning. Absently, Brendan pulls the covers over us properly, cocooning us.

"This feels good," I tell him, burying my face in his pillow. It smells of him. I remember after he went to prison how I used to do the same thing until his scent disappeared. That had been the hardest part.

"Could get used to this," he kisses my ear and then nips it playfully. "I remembered something else in the night."

I turn in his arms, wanting to look at him for this. "Yeah?"

"I remember dozing with you afterwards and you lied about the time."

I flush at the memory, attempting to hide my coy smile. "You didn't tell me off at the time."

"I guess I didn't know until I really thought about it. You were a crafty wee thing, weren't you?"

"Enough with the small cracks."

Brendan raises his eyebrows at that and I pat his chest.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything."

"You were gonna though."

"Maybe." He smiles hugely, the same glint in his eyes from the night before. "I wonder if I'll remember anything else today."

"Well, don't rush it," I mumble, pressing my nose into his chest hair.

"Don't sound too thrilled, Steven."

"I am, I just don't want you to overdo it."

"I'm not running a marathon, I'm remembering my life."

"Some things you're better off leaving in the past though."

"Not you. I don't want to leave you in the past." His voice sounds strained and it makes me look up. His eyes are clouded over with worry.

"I didn't mean me," I say quickly, wanting to take the hurt out of his expression.

"Good." He sighs, relaxing again. "Because you aren't going anywhere. Not in here or otherwise." His finger points to his head, his smile crinkling at the corners. I smile with him, happy to be in his arms and trying to forget everything else.

"I wonder if Cheryl and Nate are back yet."

"What time is it?" He asks, then smiles. "Or maybe I should check myself." He leans across me to grab his watch.

"Be careful you don't crush me," I wheeze and he pulls back, grinning knowingly. "I don't think I've ever seen you this big. Except the last time you went to prison."

"The last time? I've been more than once?"

"That's a long story, and not a nice one," I tell him, hoping he'll drop it.

He sighs. "I bet I've got a lot of them."

"Don't worry about it for now." I kiss him. "Just remember the good," I whisper, hoping his brain pays attention to my request.

"I should get us some breakfast. Never mind me being huge, you're far too skinny. You're as a skinny as the first time I saw you naked."

"You're enjoying that one memory of yours, aren't you?" I tease him.

"It's certainly one I'll be replaying over and over in my head."

"I'll bet."

He rolls us out of bed then, pulling me to my feet with my hands.

"Ow." I wince. "I think I need a shower."

"Been a while, has it?" His eyes gleam with triumph.

"Yeah, yeah. Soak it up."

"You have a shower, I'll sort breakfast out."

"You sure you can manage?"

Brendan scoffs. "Wait and see, Steven."

I grin at him, taking myself off to the bathroom.

I emerge ten minutes later, feeling relaxed and warm. I'm wrapped up in Brendan's dressing gown. Or mine, it's hard to keep track.

When I open the bedroom door I'm confronted with the smell of bacon and eggs. My mouth waters. I perch on the edge of the kitchen table, watching Brendan put them on to plates for us.

"Not back yet then?"

"Nope." Brendan nudges me off the table and I take a seat.

The bacon is a little crispy at the edges and the eggs are a bit overdone but I wolf them down hungrily. I feel like I've finally gotten my appetite back. This doesn't go unnoticed by Brendan.

"Hungry are we?"

"Mmm, wonder why," I say around a mouthful of food.

"Made you a coffee too." He pushes it towards me. "Didn't know how many sugars you wanted."

For some reason this makes me pause. For a moment I'd almost forgotten his lack of memory.

"Thanks." I smile at him, adding a few scoops of sugar into my mug.

"What do you wanna do today?" He asks me conversationally.

"I dunno," I reply, taken off guard. "Is there anything you need?" I ask hesitantly.

"I wanted to go and collect some of my things from storage."

"Oh, right."

"Might jog a few memories."

"Yeah, maybe."

He frowns at me long enough for me to lower my fork. "What?"

"You're doing that face again."

"What face?"

"The worried face."

I sigh, taking a sip of my coffee. "Of course I worry about you, how could I not?"

"Because you love me?" He smiles broadly at this, leaning across the table to steal a kiss.

"You're gonna keep bringing that up, aren't you?"

"Can you blame me?" He grins, shovelling some bacon into his mouth. He moans in pleasure. "Tastes so good."

"I'll make breakfast tomorrow if you like."

His eyes light up at the promise of tomorrow.

"I should probably get some stuff from my place though, I need a spare change of clothes. Toothbrush. That kind of thing."

"We'll go by there too."

"Do you think…" I hesitate, unsure if I should voice this concern.

"What?"

"That I should stay in the spare room?"

He stares at me in some confusion. "Why?"

"I don't want Cheryl and Nate to get the wrong idea."

"What's the wrong idea exactly?"

"You know… that we're together again."

"Why is that bad?" He sounds hurt.

"Cheryl might think it's a bit fast."

"I don't care if she thinks that."

"She's your sister, you've always cared what she thought."

Brendan frowns at this, clearly torn. "Do what you think is best." He's gone cold on me all of a sudden. He rises to clear our plates, turning his back to me.

"Don't be like that." I stand up and move towards him, wrapping my arms around his middle. "You know I want this. I just think we should sit her down and tell her properly. She's had enough shocks." I shudder at my choice of words but thankfully Brendan doesn't notice, or at least he doesn't say so. He turns around, holding my waist at arms length.

"If you think it's the right thing to do then okay. I'll miss you though." He practically growls the last part.

"Maybe I'll sneak in during the night. It'll be fun."

"You'd better." He kisses me again.

It takes us a while to get dressed; Brendan's new found confidence in us is difficult to resist. It almost feels like it was before. Almost.

Brendan calls Cheryl before we leave, asking if he can borrow their car. It's a nice one, Mercedes. It reminds me of Brendan's old car, especially when he climbs into the driver's seat, looking completely at ease there.

"I wish I could drive," I tell him.

"You can't?"

I tell him the story of my joyriding days, which seems to amuse him immensely.

"I'll give you lessons sometime, if you want," he offers. He's offered the same to me before, before prison. Of course he doesn't remember that though.

"That'd be good, if you've got the patience for it. I drive a little fast." I grin wickedly at him.

"I think I can handle it." He grins back.

We arrive at the storage place first. Brendan hands the man the details Cheryl left for him to find and he directs us to the appropriate hold up. Inside are numerous boxes, all sealed. I wonder what's in them and whether Cheryl and me should check them out first.

We load them into the car, squeezing some into the back seats as best we can. I hold one on my lap, a light one. It's probably clothes. I wonder if any of my clothes are in there. If they are, I haven't missed them.

I direct Brendan to the place I'm staying, cringing in my seat when we pull up outside. Brendan's staring at me reproachfully. It does look a bit run down; the garden outside is cluttered with junk that's too crap to steal. Some of the windows are broken and boarded over. It makes my old flat look like a paradise. I sigh wistfully, reaching for the door handle.

"Oh no you don't. You're staying in here."

"What? Why?"

"I don't want you stepping foot in there again," Brendan tells me sternly.

"I only came to get a few bits."

"You might as well get all of it, you're not coming back here."

"Oh yeah? Where else am I supposed to live?" I'm getting angry now and so is he.

"With me, like we said."

"I can't do that forever though; it isn't fair on Cheryl and Nate."

"Then we'll get our own place, it's no problem."

That pulls me up short. "Seriously?"

"What did you think last night was about, Steven? And this morning? I'm serious about this, about us."

I'm stunned, too stunned to speak at first.

"You still want this, don't you?" Brendan asks at last. He doesn't sound angry anymore, just sad.

"I do, of course I do." I reassure him. "But we can't take all of my stuff anyway, there's no room in the car," I point out.

He considers this.

"We'll go in and pack a bag for you. I'll pick the rest up later."

"Brendan…" I trail off, realising that it's pointless to argue with him right now when he's this set on something. "Alright, come on then."

The rest of the house is asleep thankfully. I don't talk to the others much; they aren't the best company, to put it lightly. Brendan follows me up the stairs, keeping close to my back. He is less than impressed when he sees my room. I haven't taken much care in making it look nice. It only has a mattress along with all my belongings strewn across the floor.

Brendan finds a holdall and loads a few of my clothes into it while I get the essentials. We're in and out in under ten minutes.

I'm strangely glad to be back in the car. Brendan's got a point; I can't stay there any longer. It doesn't feel like me anymore. The old me didn't have much hope but this one does.

Brendan looks at me a few times when he drives us back. He's always looking like he's trying to work me out. I wonder how frustrating it must be for him, to not remember. I smile at him, reaching across the handbrake to take his hand. Things might not be perfect for us but it's a start, and that's more than we've had in years.

When we arrive back at the flat Cheryl and Nate are there too. Nate comes out to help us unload the boxes from the car while Cheryl fixes us some lunch. I go in to help her after a while, my back aching from too much carrying.

"How's it going?" Cheryl asks, pushing some tea my way.

"Fine. Think we got everything Brendan needed."

"I noticed the bag by the door too, not Brendan's." Cheryl raises her eyebrows at me.

"Oh, yeah. I said I'd stay a few days, if that's okay."

"Ste, you know you don't even have to ask. After everything that we've been through…" She blinks away some moisture in her eyes. "I'm just glad you're here. Brendan needs you."

I smile at her. "He even remembered something you know, last night."

"He did?" Cheryl's entire face lights up with the news. "What was it? Tell me everything!"

"Well…" I flounder. My cheeks burn. "It's a bit private actually."

Cheryl stares at me in confusion for several moments until she cottons on. "Oh!" She grins widely, slipping me a wink. "That's wonderful though! Imagine what else he could remember!"

"Yeah, imagine." My voice takes on a dull quality which Cheryl immediately picks up on.

"You don't think…" she trails off, uncertain.

"I don't know, Cheryl. Maybe we should tell him, before he remembers somehow."

Her eyes widen in shock. "We can't do that," she says in a hushed voice. "It would kill him."

I shiver at her choice of words, making her slip her hand in mine apologetically.

"It'll be painful either way, he has to know someday."

"But does it have to be now? Look how happy he is."

I do look. Brendan has just finished bringing in the last of the boxes. Nate is grinning at him, offering him a cold drink. Brendan sits on the sofa heavily. He glances in my direction, a warm and fond smile on his face.

"It's not fair," I whisper.

"I know," Cheryl whispers back, clutching my hand tighter.

Brendan must see something in my expression because he beckons me over to sit with him.

I run my fingers absently over the few strands of hair at the back of his neck before I sit down, compulsion to touch and soothe him overwhelming. He smiles at me, patting my knee.

"Everything okay, Steven?"

"Sure, never better."

He scrutinizes my face. "I don't believe you."

"Well that's too bad," I say, keeping my voice light. He frowns at me.

"What do you want to do with all this stuff, Brendan? We could help you look through it if you want?" Nate asks, sitting in the chair opposite us.

"Maybe later," Brendan says, his eyes not leaving my face.

"I wanted to have a look myself anyway," I say quickly, glancing at Cheryl. Might as well get it out in the open; it's not as though he's going to leave me alone today.

"Why?" Brendan asks suspiciously.

I look at Cheryl before answering. "In case you've got anything of mine, that's all."

"We can look together later then," he affirms. I sigh inwardly.

"Okay." I keep my expression neutral, feeling the way his gaze is burning into mine. "I found something of yours the other day too," I begin conversationally. He doesn't have to know that I've kept it on me every day since I found it again.

"What is it?" He asks eagerly.

I take it out of my pocket, handing it to him.

"A cross?" He holds it in his palm.

"It's yours. You gave it to me once, when I wasn't well. It got a bit lost but I found it again, kept it ever since."

"You weren't well? When?" Brendan asks sharply.

"I got hit by a bus," I say bluntly. Brendan's eyes widen almost comically.

"Jesus," he breathes. "Why are you giving me this now?"

"Because it's yours," I reply, confused.

"But I gave it to you," he says, pushing it back into my palm. "It might mean something."

"Bren-"

"Keep it," he says, his tone suggesting there's no room for argument.

I nod, my hand clasping it tightly. It's been such a part of me for a long time that parting with it would have been difficult. Except now I've got something more than a necklace, I've got him.

"I should go put my stuff in my room," I say, deciding that I need a moment to myself. Brendan looks like he's about to follow but then stops himself.

"Are you gonna be alright in that small room, Ste?" Cheryl asks with concern. "If we'd known you'd be staying with us we'd have found a place with three big bedrooms."

"It's fine, I've stayed in worse." Brendan looks at me then, and I turn away, flushing.

"You can have my room," he offers quietly.

"Don't be daft," I mutter. "See you in a bit."

When I'm alone in the room, I close the door and sit on the bed. It hasn't been made yet so I do that, liking the way it clears my head. I put my few clothes away in the chest of drawers and fix my gaze on the other door in the room.

"Huh," I say, suddenly confronted with Brendan.

"I guess we're sharing a bathroom then." Brendan grins at me from the mirror.

"Looks that way."

"How's your room?" Brendan turns to me. His face is dripping wet. He grabs a towel from the rack.

"Fine," I reply.

Brendan peers behind me into my room. "Bed's a bit small."

"Not as though I'll be sleeping in it much."

"True."

We pause for a moment, staring at each other.

"What?" I ask eventually.

"We should tell Cheryl about us."

"You think?"

"Shouldn't keep secrets from your family," Brendan says soberly and for a moment my heart stops. "Steven?"

"Sorry. You're right. We'll tell her tomorrow."

He smiles then, moving closer to wrap his arms around my waist.

"Then you can stay with me."

"Is that what you want?" I find myself asking.

"Of course it is. Why would you even ask that?"

"I dunno, I don't want it to be like I'm boxing you in. I don't even know how you felt about me before the accident."

"We're gonna have to talk about that sometime, the accident."

"Yeah." We're going to have to talk about a lot of things, I add silently to myself.

"Maybe looking through my stuff later will help," Brendan says, tightening his grip on me as though afraid I'm about to bolt.

"Hopefully."

He pulls me against him then, kissing me roughly on the mouth. His moustache brushes against my upper lip. I'd missed the feel of it for all these years.

"We should probably get back to Cheryl and Nate. They'll be wondering where we are."

Brendan sighs, releasing me. "I like being alone with you."

"Oh yeah?" I smirk at him. "I wonder why."

"Not just that." He grins back.

I bow my head a little. "What's gonna happen when you remember?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are we gonna carry on as we are, together like?"

He stares at me in confusion. "What else are we gonna do?"

"Good answer." I rest my head against his chest, against his heartbeat.

"Come on," he murmurs after a time. "Let's not keep them waiting."

I hum a little under my breath, pulling myself away.

"Later," he promises. I'll hold him to that.