I wake up disorientated, the walls are a different colour, there aren't any bedsprings digging into my side and there's a body pressing against my back radiating warmth, knees tucked into mine, an arm flung over my middle.

It doesn't take me long to remember I'm at Brendan's. They're his grey walls, I'm sleeping in his comfortable bed and it's him spooning me in his sleep. I smile, almost bursting at the seams with joy.

I slowly slide out of his grasp, careful not to wake him and then turn so we're face to face. A sleeping Brendan Brady is a beautiful Brendan Brady.

He looks at peace. Which is odd because I never thought of him as not being at peace, but now that I think about it there's definitely something behind his eyes. Like he's constantly having an internal battle with himself, two different versions of Brendan in a game of tug-of-war.

I guess it's because he's not okay with being gay, so much so that I avoid using the word around him. I learnt early on that I wasn't to be affectionate or get too close in public, he'd get cold and shut off. Becoming the other version of himself. I know he's religious so that must be part of it, but I also get the feeling he worries about how he'll be perceived. Believes that people will think him less of a man. Which is silly because when we're together I feel safe and cared for and when we're alone behind closed doors I feel alive.

Yeah some people will have a problem with it, but most people, the people that matter will accept us. I long for the day when we can tell people that we're together, that it's me he wants. We'll go out to the cinema, then for dinner at a restaurant and after for a walk in a park together. He'll meet my kids and have a cup of tea or two with Amy, and she'll love him because he's kind and charming and sometimes he's funny. I'll meet his sister and his son and find out what he was like growing up.

I don't know how long it will take for him to accept himself, to accept what we are to each other or if he ever will. But I can wait, I'd wait a eternity for him.

It's still early, the sun hasn't risen yet, the sky is a deep blue. I turn back into him, falling asleep in his warm embrace.

{~}

A few hours have passed because it's bright out now, the birds are chirping and I feel l well rested. I shift in the bed, stretching out, the space where Brendan's body had lay is cold, he must have gotten out a bed a while ago. I call out but get no answer, I wrap a sheet around my waist and search the flat. It's empty. His wallet and phone are still on his bedside table so he can't have gone far, probably to the off licence.

I make myself a cup of coffee and snuggle up on his sofa in nothing but the sheet.

Brendan walks in just as I drain the last drops of my second cup. He's in his running gear, all sweaty and out of breathe.

"You look surprised to see me." He comments as he walks over to the kitchen for a glass of water.

In all honesty I am, an empty flat, two cups of coffee and over 20 minutes leaves a lot of time to think. From what I can gather Brendan is accustomed to a string of one night stands, but always wakes up alone. He doesn't believe in love, not between two men anyway, nothing last longer than a night and no one gets close. So as I watched the front door, waiting for him to walk through it there was a small part of me that though maybe he wasn't coming back. That I'd outstayed my welcome or he'd changed his mind, staying away until I got the message and left.

I'm glad he's across the flat, at the kitchen sink, where he can't see my face when I lie and say, "I'm juts cold."

"I'll turn on the heating."

I watch him fiddle with the thermostat, his hair is all dishevelled from sleep, along with other things and he's pulling off a whole different kind of sexy in those joggers. I drop the sheet, walk over and wrap my arms around him.

"Or you could warm me up."

Brendan pulls out the neckline of his t-shirt and sniffs himself, his nose twitching in discomfort. "I should go shower."

"No I like it."

I take hold of the hem of his t-shirt, dragging my hands up his warm sweaty waist. I pull the t-shirt over his head because the material is just in the way. Placing my palm over his chest I can feel his heart, still ponding fast and heavy from the run. I look into he's eyes, mesmerised by the strength of it. When our mouths lock together the kiss is sensual and drawn out.

I get caught up in the moment and don't even notice when Brendan slides us down the wall until he's sat with his back against it and he's knees bent. I'm kneeling in the space between his legs, slightly towering over him. He's resting his head back and his eyes are closed, I guess he's worn out from the run. But that's okay because in all honesty I'd be satisfied with kissing his wrists. So that's what I do, I take his hand in mine and pull it up to my lips. I lightly press against his fluttering pulse and make my way along his arm, along his collarbone and leave a wet tail up the length of neck.

I lean down to capture his lips and we just kiss for what seems like hours, my hands wrapped around his neck and his fingers grip my hips. I'm drunk with need, groaning into his mouth and rubbing into his crotch with the front of my thigh. I've never had Brendan like this, slow and lazy with his actions, letting me lead because he's still too tired. But there's a reassuring bulge in his trackies, confirming that he's enjoying himself and maybe not so tired after all.

"Late go upstairs."

I hold out my hand for him to take and then lead him to the bathroom. I plug the drain and turn on the taps to draw a hot bath and then begin to undress him. I rid him of his remaining clothes unhurriedly, taking the time to enjoying his body, kissing and stroking as I go. When the tub is full Brendan steps in, sighing and closing his eyes as he settles in.

"Oi, don't you get too relaxed." I tell him. "Stand up."

He opens one eye and looks up at me, clearly not getting my drift.

"You said I had you till morning, mornings not over and I ain't done with you."

He grunts and lifts himself up, acting put out but I can see the smile he's trying to hide. I take one of the condoms that he now stores on the shelf next to the shampoo, Brendan dashing to the bedroom every time we got down and dirty in the shower was becoming ridiculous. I roll it on him and then tell him to sit. I climb in so we're face to face and then take his shaft in my firm palm, pumping it slow.

"This time I don't want you to do anything, relax." I instruct.

He just nods as our lips meet, and when my tongue invades his mouth to create a mixture of my coffee and his minty toothpaste he leans back, just going with it. With him worked up enough I switch my position so I have my back to him and slowly lower myself down onto his erect cock. I'm still loose from last night and so he comfortably goes in with one fluid swoop down and we both groan from the contact.

I hold on to both side of the tub for leverage and it take me a few tries to get the right angle, but when I finally feel the brush against my prostate I wither, whimpering from the sensation. I grind down to the root, gyrating back and forth, letting my muscles do most of the work, contracting and relaxing around his dick.

My moans are bouncing off the tiles and Brendan is muttering profanities and every so often my name leaves his lips. He leans forward, kissing and sucking the side of my neck.

"Mmmmm...that feels good." I tell him.

"You have a body good enough to eat, so smooth, firm, it's perfect. So gorgeous it could kill a man.

"Lucky you, lucky to have me."

I chance a glance back at him, and he looks like he's considering my words. Then he seems to accept it or agree, nodding to himself. That puts a smile on my face.

We're lucky to have found each other.

I increase my pace, sliding up and down desperate for release. Brendan tells me he's going to come, he repositions us so we're both on our knees. I have my arms stretched out straight in front of me, either side of the tap and he's holding onto my hips. I can feel his uneven breaths on my neck, his long strokes hitting deeper in side me. When he does come one hand slams into the tiles in front of us and his whole body buckles. Brendan lays flat across my back, kissing the spot on my neck where I know he'll have left a red blemish and the last of his after shock spasms through him.

He doesn't pull out, instead wraps his hand around my cock and stroke up and down to release the ache between my legs. He starts gentle and I push my hips up to meet each one of his strokes. My orgasm approaches and my stomach muscles tighten so I awkwardly turn to meet his lips because I want him to kiss me when I come. Our lips merged together and our tongues intertwine. My orgasm is an incredible explosion of pleasure and a large spurt of warm come shoots out and into the pool of water below us.

Afterwards, we lather each other clean with spearmint scented shower gel, two in one shampoo-conditioner and Brendan's tea-tree face wash. I brush my teeth with a spare toothbrush while Brendan gets ready for work in his room across the corridor.

When I walk in he's already dressed and is standing at his chest of drawers, applying gel to his hair. He hasn't noticed me so I stay by the door and watch him spike his hair – the amount of time it's taking and the precise placement of each strand of hair, it's like he's sculpting a masterpiece. He straps on his watch, spays on aftershave and then just stares at himself in the mirror.

This isn't the first time I've seen him do this, at first I thought it was just a vanity thing, but it's not. It's like he's staring him self down, or psyching himself up for something. Whatever it is, the peaceful expression he wore whilst asleep is long gone.

A conscious Brendan Brady is a troubled Brendan Brady.

I walk up behind him, snake my arms around his waist, tip toe and prop my chin on his shoulder. For a second he looks startled, as if he's forgotten that he's not alone, whatever he sees staring back at him in the mirror is consuming all he thoughts.

"When you look into the mirror for ages like that, what are you thinking?" I ask his reflection.

"Nothing at all."

He shrugs out of my hold, avoiding eye contact and I can tell he's being dishonest, hiding something. I drop it, Brendan has his secretes and I'm fine with that.

"Okay."

"You going to get dressed?"

"Do I have to? Why don't we go back to bed?"

"Hmmm, I can't believe I'm saying this but I need to get to work. I was only there for ten minutes last night, we've got a delivery and we're still under staffed."

"I'll make us breakfast and then come in with you." Back to reality then, it was nice while it lasted. "Where are my clothes?"

"On the living room floor."

We head down stairs, the atmosphere is noticeable different. I push on, get dressed and chat away while making bacon sarnies like I haven't noticed Brendan's mood. I think he appreciates it because half way through breakfast whatever was bothering him upstairs is no longer an issue. By the time we're ready to head out I'm looking forward to a morning at work just the two of us. Judging by the smile on his face and the squeezing of my bum so is Brendan.

When I get the door open I'm confronted with a tall, busty blonde with perfectly curled ringlets. She's wearing a dress both too bright and too short for this time of year, a purple faux fur coat and towering heels.

"Cheryl?" Brendan yelps from behind me.

That smile of his face has vanished, again.

{~} {~} {~} {~} {~}

Steven asks what I'm thinking, and it's more what I'm not thinking. The things I don't let myself dwell on, that I haven't really dealt with. But now they're coming to the surface and it's too much to handle and I'm being crushed under the weight of it all.

He must sense it on me, his face drops, all the joy and easiness is gone. It's only for a few seconds though, then he puts and his happy face on and makes us breakfast like nothing has changed. I guess he knows what I'm like, that I wouldn't want to talk or be pushed, so he just lets it go. He rambles as he fries the bacon, and rambles some more while we eat, it's calming. Weirdly so. The tension and sorrow leaves my bones, I feel lighter than I have in months, a year almost and it's just one more thing that I like about this boy. When he's around it all just float away.

Now I'm itching to get him over to the club, there's no one else working and it shouldn't be too busy. After I get the deliveries sorted we can carry on where we left of in the tub. He's by the door already, tying his laces and as he gets up I have to take time out to appreciate how good his arse looks in his work jeans. Then I have to touch it, because it's so god damn perfect, like it's teasing me.

I'm bundling him out of the front door, the sooner we get this order sorted the sooner I can get my hands on him. But he stops, stops moving, stops laughing and just looks back at me.

Cheryl's standing at my front door.

"Cheryl?"

"Brendan!" She squeals, push past Steven to embrace me in hug that's a little too tight.

"Sis, what are you doing here?" I probe while prying her arms from around my neck.

"I came to visit my big brother, it's been too long Bren."

There are three large suit cases sitting at my doorstep, way too many for a visit, even for Cheryl. "What's with all the bags?"

"I felt like a change, a new adventure. Plus I had to make sure you were looking after yourself." There it is, the change in voice, laced with pity and eyes creased with concern. "How are you?"

"I'm fine." I tell her, my voice increasing by an octave or two. I smile, and rub her arms to reassure her.

"Are you sure, love? Because after-"

"Chez this is Steven. Steven, my sister Cheryl." I cut her off before she can go any further because I'm very aware that Steven is listening to our conversation. "Steven is a barman at the club, I'm running late for a delivery so he came to get me." I drop in an excuse for why an employee is in my home so early in the morning. "Steven, why don't you take the keys and open up while I get Cheryl settled in, yeah?"

"Nonsense. I can settle in anytime, right now I want to see this club you've named after me."

This is not what I want to do at all. The idea of the guy I'm fucking and my sister continuing to be in close proximity doesn't sit well with me. But I can't think of a reason why we shouldn't all go to the club and if Cheryl's going to be living in the village they're going to run into each other. Might as well be there to keep an eye on them.

"Lets go then."

{~}

Cheryl has a nosey around while Steven and I bring in the crates and restock the bar. Steven's sunny disposition is ebbing away, I have a feeling this is response to the fact that I'm blatantly standoffish and distant. Even when he smiles and laughs I can see the hurt behind his eyes, but I can't be what he wants, especially not around my sister.

Opening time has come and gone, Cheryl and I are sat at the end of the bar catching up. She tells me about what's changed back home and it's strange because you forget that life goes on, people keep on living after you've gone. I give her a very edited version of my time in Liverpool and how it is living in the village and running the club.

"What do you plan to do over here?" I ask.

I love my little sister but she tends to make big decisions like this without really thinking them through.

"I was hoping that my lovely big brother would give me a job at his successful new nightclub?"

"Chez, I dunno."

I do know. I know I want to keep my life here, with Steven and Danny's drugs as far away from my baby sister as possible.

"We are looking for an extra pair of hands with Rhys gone." Steven chimes in.

Fuck.

"Please Bren. The two of us working together, it will be like working at da's pub when we were younger. We'll have so much fun."

Those days were anything but fun for me, but Cheryl saw what he wanted her to see. She had a completely different childhood than I did and I've always made sure to retain those memories for her, true or not.

"I don't know about that, but fine you can have the job."

More squealing and hugs.

Having Cheryl around might not be too bad.

Ring Ring. Ring Ring.

"It's Anne, I'm going to take this in the office. Steven will show you the ropes."

It's the same old with Anne, I haven't been paying her enough attention recently and she wants to go out tonight.

I'm being stretched in too many directions.

I don't go back out, I need a few moments to myself.

{~}

After a while Cheryl joins me on the office sofa and I can tell that whatever she wants to talk about will be heavy.

"Ste's a nice guy."

She's starting off with small talk and that's fine with me.

"He's good at his job."

"Only had good things to say about you."

"Really?"

"Yeah, apparently you're a top boss, dead nice and caring."

Silence.

I don't know what to say to that, his words do something to my gut. Something I haven't experienced before and so I can't describe.

"He told me about your girlfriend, Mitzeee. There was an article about her in the magazine I read on the cab ride over. Wannabe WAG and glamour model." She says in a disapproving tone.

"There's more to her than that, anyway it's nothing serious."

"I know you're like any other red blooded male, but is she really worth staying away from your family and your life in Ireland?"

"You know there's more to why I left than that."

"No, actually I don't, because you didn't even have the decency to tell me you were going. I went over to the house with a casserole and it was Eileen that told me your marriage was over and then a week later you send a vague text saying you were in England."

"You know what we were going through."

"I don't understand Bren. It had been weeks since..." She sighs. "You and Eileen were getting through it, together as a couple. Things were getting back to normal."

"I don't think things can ever be normal after devastation like that. It will either bring you closer together or tear you apart. A relationships can be dead but look live to the outside world."

"Deccy misses you."

"I miss him too, more than I can put into words." I lean forward and cover my face. With no one from my old life around it was easy to pretend, easier to get on with it. Now all I can think of is my son, growing up without me, all the things I'm going to miss because I ran away. I still don't know if I did the right thing for him, but a father that sleeps around with other men when his family needs him is no father at all. "I couldn't stay there."

"Maybe you didn't give it enough time-"

"I never loved Eileen the way a husband is supposed to love his wife." That's the most honest I've ever been, without coming right out with it. "We got married too young and for all the wrong reasons. I got her pregnant and like a good little Catholic boy I married her. I wanted to do right by her and by the baby, but a loveless marriage isn't good for anyone."

"Oh Bren love, come here."

Thanks to everyone who always takes the time out to review.