Brendan's P.O.V

You feel a hand slip underneath the duvet and slide along the mattress feel fingertips touch your leg but you aren't conscious enough yet to try and make a move. You're not even sure if this is real or if it's a dream. The warm hand rubs your calf tentatively, gradually gets higher and higher until it's at the top of your thigh and suddenly your eyes shoot open and you jump out of your skin, scurry up your bed and bring your duvet up to your chin to try and protect yourself.

"Hey it's okay. It's okay."

You see Cheryl sat at the end of your bed dressed in her school uniform, her curly hair tied back in a pony tail, her young, vulnerable, girly features accentuated by her pink cheeks. She sits forward slightly and reaches out her arms to comfort you, strokes along your wrists as you bring your duvet down and pat it beside you. You've always been a relatively heavy sleeper but you've suffered from sleep paralysis for years, have often frozen whenever you've woken up due to noise or physical contact. Then as soon as you feel like you can move, your body flails.

"What are you doing?"

You whisper as you rub your palms into your eyes and cover your half naked torso with a pillow.

"You've overslept. Thought I'd better come and wake you up."

You glance past Cheryl and look to the clock at the top of the landing and shoot out of bed when you see how late you're running, rush to the wardrobe and pull out a clean school shirt.

"Why were you touching my leg? You usually jump on me."

"Well after you helped Ste last night, I thought I'd be nice to you for once."

She gets to her feet and starts straightening out your duvet, something that she's done for as long as you can remember, even when you were kids and used to share a room she'd make your bed every morning and now it's simply a habit. It's strange coming home to a bed that isn't made, not that you hold it to her but it's just a routine.

You grab your tie and sling it around your neck, wait for Cheryl to finish your bed and then she ties it up for you because you're horrendous at doing it, can never get the length right.

"Thank you Bren, for yesterday. Was Ste okay?"

Cheryl asks as she folds down your collar and does up your top button.

"Yeah. He was fine. Probably just over exerted himself. He's such a scrawny thing."

It feels slightly awkward talking to Cheryl about the same boy. You think that she has a crush on Steven even though she knows he's gay. She gazes at him all doe eyed, giggles at his jokes that aren't even funny.

"Oi. Don't be nasty. Ste's nice and he's my friend."

You tilt your head, make it seem as if you're considering her statement about his kind nature, even though know it's true, that he is a genuinely nice person, kind hearted. He wouldn't hurt a fly but there's something in you that's continuously searching for the bad things about him, something you can frown upon.

"Hmm. He's okay. I did it for you Chez. Not for him."

Her lips curve into a gleaming smile and she stares at you in awe, her hands on your shoulders and she leans in to kiss your cheek in gratitude.

"Thank you. You're the best brother ever."

With that she skips off out of your room, leaves you to finish getting dressed and pack your school bag which takes less than a minute. You tend to keep all of your books in your bag anyway so you don't get into a habit of forgetting any and as soon as you've brushed your teeth and ruffled up your hair, you jog down the stairs with your bag on your back. You dump it near the door and walk into the kitchen but stop abruptly when you see that Steven is standing there, spreading butter over some freshly toasted crumpets.

"What are you doing here?"

You hiss, unable to move, yet he looks at you with warmth and a small smile on his face when he turns and sees you.

"Meeting Cheryl ain't I."

He says as if this is normal. He kissed you yesterday and he's acting as if nothing has happened. His calm and collected demeanour seems to set the tone, however, seems to make things a little less awkward.

"H-how are you feeling?"

You ask because you are genuinely interested, aren't asking for the sake of creating conversation. When he looks up from his buttering again though, he seems shocked that you have enquired about his well being, probably because you act like you don't care most of the time.

"What you looking at me like that for?"

You spit defensively, straightening up your body and tucking your shirt into your trousers.

"Nothing. I'm fine. Thanks for asking."

He gets back to buttering, flinches slightly when the next set of crumpets pops out of the toaster. You now feel awkward, don't know whether to help him or just leave him to it and go to school. You decide to leave him to it and shuffle over to the sink and pour a glass of water for yourself, down the lot within ten seconds because you're parched.

"Here."

Steven's voice comes from beside you and as you turn to face him, you're met with a plate, held in his left hand. They have steaming hot crumpets on, the butter all melted and it smells delicious.

"These for Cheryl?"

"No. They're for you."

He replies as you're about to place the plate down in Cheryl's regular spot at the table.

"For me?"

You enquire, want to make sure that you've heard him correctly because all you have done is be a dick to him and yet he still carries out these small tasks, still shows this care and consideration. An act of kindness has never felt so strange to you.

"Yeah. Do you not want them?"

He doesn't turn towards you, just continues to have his back facing you as you hover over the table, plate still in hand, a little unsure of what to do with it. You fear you might have scared him a little because he won't look at you.

"Yeah, I do. Um... Th-thanks"

Without another word you tuck in, don't even bother taking a seat at the table, simply lean against the sink and shove a whole crumpet in your mouth because the smell of them has caused your stomach to growl loudly making you realise how hungry you actually are. It tastes incredible. The butter oozes out onto your tongue, all melted and warm and it slides down your throat into your empty stomach. You can't help but let out a loud groan in satisfaction, lick your fingers to savour the taste. Steven chuckles at the counter at your moan of delight, pulls some more crumpets out of the toaster and butters them for himself.

"What you laughing at Gordon Ramsay?"

He chuckles again, this time with a little snort and he senses your genuine humour, eventually turns to look at you in the eyes.

"I ain't no Gordon Ramsay! I'm more like Jamie Oliver."

He reasons as he tears a small, dainty bite out of his food and chews silently, your gaze connecting for a little while longer than necessary.

"These are really nice. Thanks."

He smiles again at your compliment and shies away, a small blush rising in his cheeks. The pair of you continue to devour your breakfast, during which a silence descends. You're both evidently avoiding the elephant in the room, both trying not to acknowledge what happened yesterday even though that's all that has been going through your head since you left. Breakfast is a good distraction.

In a way, you feel like you should confront him about it, tell him that it meant nothing. You don't want to lead him on because that could cause a whole heap of trouble that you don't need.

"Look, about yesterday-"

Steven says suddenly but then he seems to think better of it, decides against confronting you but he's bought it up now and there's no way that either of you can sweep it beneath the carpet because it'll only arise again. You decide to take control of the matter and tell him what is what. You're in charge here, can have him anytime you want because despite the fact that you've only really been talking and interacting for a short period of time, you practically have him eating out of the palm of your hand. The only danger about going through with this, with him, is that he is close to Cheryl and if he is close to Cheryl then he is close to Seamus.

"It meant nothing"

You croak, your voice breaking and letting you down because you don't sound convincing in the slightest. It's like your body won't allow it but you saying the words makes Steven turn rigid next to you, his stance freezing into place.

"It meant nothing? But...but you kissed me back..."

Bringing yourself to look at him is an impossibility and consequently, your lack of response draws a silence. He's trying to let it sink it in, process what you've said but he chuckles, clearly outraged and he moves away from the counter to stand on his own two feet in front of you.

"No. You're right. You're right. That meant nothing to you at all. You just followed me for no reason yesterday, bought me home instead of leaving me in a gutter and you just decided kissed me back when I made a move. Don't bullshit me, you wanted it Brendan as much as I did."

"Stop."

You lunge forward to grab hold of his blazer, twist him around and slam him against the counter and pin him there using your knee, dig it into the top of his leg so he can't attempt to move. He's pushing it too far, making all of these accusations and it's making your blood boil. You're going to snap.

"Stop what? Stop speaking the truth?""

He asks, smirking. He isn't afraid of you, not this time and that in itself makes you angry. You grit your teeth and grip the material of his blazer harder, lean forward slightly to arch his back over the counter to make him off balance. He has no way of fighting you off him now.

"Just stop it."

"No Brendan, you need to stop. Just admit it. You felt something, it might not be much but you felt it here. Didn't you?"

He balls his fist and presses it lightly over the left side of your chest, your heart beginning to thud against him. He's right. You felt something, can't even put a label on what you felt because you've never felt anything like it but this can't happen, none of it.

"I'm not a faggot. Find somebody else and stay away from me."

He knows you're lying through your teeth. You underestimate him. He is far from stupid and as a result he grips your hips and pulls your groin against his and you can't help but suck in a breath, that same breath escaping you, wavering and Steven simply smiles, knows that he's got you exactly where he wants. You're beginning to lose this battle.

"Are you telling me that you don't want this, that you can control yourself when we're this close? I do know you Brendan and as much as you might want to deny it, something changes in you when we touch."

He stands on his tiptoes when he feels your body begin to drain of anger, when your grip gets looser and the pressure of your knee digging into his leg starts to slacken. He tries to make another move, is slowly but surely drawing you in and his lips are only a few centimetres away from your own. You want it, so badly but your head is screaming at you to stop him and you have no other choice. You stamp on his foot hard, so hard that he can't even make a noise but you cover his mouth with your palm nonetheless, in case he decides to try and shout for Cheryl's help.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Not unless you want another nose bleed."

He squeaks against your palm, takes hold of the front of your blazer and uses it as leverage to try and stay on his feet.

"What's going on here?"

Cheryl's intrigued voice comes from behind you and startles both you and Steven. You don't pull away from him straight away, give him a venomous look, one of warning to let him know that there'll be consequences if he lets his mouth off.

"Nothing. Just having a mess about. Isn't that right Steven?"

You say quickly as you subtly straighten him out and rest an arm over his shoulders, pat the side of him to convince her that there are no hard feelings between you because she has always sensed the friction, known that you've taken a disliking towards Steven, which at first you did but it all changed very quickly and unexpectedly.

"Yeah. Yeah. We were just messing."

He slaps a hand to your back and the shooting pain causes you to wince and tighten your grip on his shoulder, something he evidently notices because he yanks on the back of your blazer, is trying to tell you that you're hurting him without actually speaking the words but you're overcome by the stinging of your scars.

"Urm...I'll be right back. Steven made you crumpets."

You untangle yourself from the boy and run out of the kitchen, pelt up the stairs to your room and throw off your blazer off, let it drop to the floor carelessly and you slide your shirt off over your head, let that fall to the floor as well. Your back burns, feels like tiny little knives are stabbing at your skin and you have to scramble through the draws of your bedside table for your Bio-Oil, end up pulling a few things out and throwing them to the floor to get them out of the way. You unscrew the cap as soon as you find it, pour a load into your palm and slap it against your burning flesh, rub it in a circular motion and your eyes roll into the back of your head at the relief.

"Brendan we're going!"

Cheryl shouts to you from the bottom of the stairs, her voice, thankfully, not loud enough to wake Seamus. He's a deep sleeper anyway and probably close to a coma with how drunk he's likely to have gotten last night.

"Okay. I'll be down in a second."

You pour some more oil into your hand and try to reach the parts that you've missed and are still tingling. It's a struggle but you manage it eventually and you sigh as all of the pins and needles come to an end.

"Brendan will you hurry-"

You shoot around, find Steven standing just outside of your bedroom. He's glued to the landing, his mouth wide open and he can't physically speak for a second, is too taken aback.

"What's that on your back?"

He asks in a monosyllabic tone, completely stunned at the sight of you.

"Nothing."

You make a grab for your shirt and throw it back over your head, feel it stick but you'd rather that than have him stare at you for a longer period of time. As you straighten out in the mirror, tighten your tie and what not, you see his reflection and he's wearing a deep frown, wondering why you're lying to him.

"Brendan what was it?"

He asks, his question almost getting stuck in his throat. You have no idea how to respond, whether you should tell him what it was and how it was caused or whether you should stick with what you said originally.

"It was nothing okay?!"

You spit as you pick your blazer up from off the floor and nudge past him, clash your shoulders together hoping that'll stop him from asking more questions. You feel like such a hypocrite bucause you are spamming him with questions about Mr Price and you're expecting him to answer them. Yet you are refusing to answer his questions.

You're out of the door before Cheryl can protest.


When the bell rings for lunch, you're relieved. That lesson seemed to be going on forever. You couldn't really concentrate a on your work because your mind kept drifting back to yesterday with Steven, your argument with him about Mr Price, the kiss and him fainting. You've put the fainting down to him wearing himself out. As for the meeting, you still intend to find out what that is all about. The kiss is something you haven't been able to stop thinking about. Your stomach flipped and your heart skipped several beats and you're still kicking yourself for feeling such things and it's proving to be harder than you had first anticipated to keep him away and control these things you're feeling.

You walk down the corridor on your own, need time to think of how you're going to handle Steven, how you're going to handle your feelings towards him. It's a conflicting situation that you're in because things have happened so quickly. You're working with him now, you've saved him, he's saved you and now you've kissed and it's all escalating beyond your control. As you sigh in frustration you Steven walking with his head down, Mr Price walking in front of him a little way down the hall.

"Am I in trouble?"

You hear Steven ask and Mr Price stops in front of him, turns to face him and you quickly stand behind a pillar to hide yourself from view. If either of them catch you earwigging again then you're dead meat.

"Course not. I'm just seeing how you are. I know it was sudden and I didn't mean to simply drop the bombshell on you."

"I know. I just need time to adjust to... us... this. Whatever we are now."

Us? There's no way that Steven is having a relationship with a teacher. Surely not. You can't believe what you're hearing, refuse to believe that it's true. Maybe you're getting the wrong end of the stick but what other possible link could Steven have to your principal? You feel a little nauseous thinking about the possibility of a relationship occurring between these two.

"We both do but whenever you want me, you know where my office is and you've got my number."

You peer around the corner of the pillar cautiously, can see Steven nodding and then Mr Price touches a hand to Steven's shoulder. You're sure the boy flinches a little, evidently uncomfortable. The older man then mumbles something but it's too quiet for you to hear and he turns to walk towards his office, leaving Steven standing by himself in the middle of the corridor. This is your time to question him. You've just heard every word that has been exchanged between them and there is no way that he can deny any of it so you remove yourself from behind the pillar and stroll over to him, feel slightly smug because you have one up on him now and he has no choice but to tell you the truth.

"So Steven. You and Pricey."

Your gruff voice makes him jump and he turns to you with tears in his eyes. His emotion is unexpected and it makes you feel a little guilty for ear wigging but what you said to him was right. When you want to find something out, you will one way or another.

"Do one Brendan."

He says as he wipes his nose. He doesn't make an effort to distance himself from you. He expects you to be the one to walk away but he should know that you don't turn your back on anyone.

"What's all this I heard? Hmm? I need to get used to... us."

You try and mimic his voice but ultimately fail. Your impression humours you but it doesn't please him in the slightest. If anything it makes him even more angry because a vein begins to protrude in his forehead and a fire burns fiercely in his eyes.

"You were listening in again? What the hell is wrong with you?!"

He goes to stride away but you grab his wrist and prevent him from walking away because you refuse to walk out of this corridor without the answers you want.

"No Steven, the question is...what's wrong with you?"

"I don't know what you mean."

He's trying to yank his wrist back but your grip is too firm. Your fingers are digging into the bruises you caused on his delicate skin yesterday but causing him pain might be the only way to get him to confess to you and that is something you're prepared to do.

"You and Pricey at it like rabbits are you? You're constantly sknunking about, trying to hide things and you can try and lie to Cheryl or Danielle but you can't lie to me."

You back him against a crevice in the wall, a secluded little area where no one can see that you're interrogating him. The last thing you want is to be spotted and for someone to tell Mr Price because he'll be straight on your case.

"What are you on about?!"

He yells, his face scrunched up in horror and he's looking at you as if you've lost your marbles.

"You heard. Why else would he give you his number? Are you acting like his little rent boy? Get on the good side of the head teacher so he can protect you in school?"

His eyes widen as he realises the true extent of how much you've heard and he shakes his head vigorously, attempts to yank his wrist back again but you continue to hold it tight so he can't escape.

"You've got it all wrong."

"Have I? Have I really? Doesn't look like I have Steven."

You spit viciously, step a little closer to him and back him right against the wall and he's almost at breaking point, tears welling in his eyes once again.

"For fuck sake Brendan, I'm his godson!"