26.

The dead were gathering. It had happened slowly at first; shadows in incongruous places and whispers that didn't belong to a living soul. Inexplicable stains appeared on the countertops after they had been wiped down. Frequent smells of the grave drifted intermittently through the building, discernable seemingly only to him. Essence of decay. Bouquet of iron.

And then the back of a head, the disappearance of a silhouette into the office, or onto the cellar stairs, but when he made to follow they would be gone. And yet… where they gone? The atmosphere became pensive, pervasive, thick with the promise of something to come.

Violence was rising too. His temper was flaring more than it had in the ten preceding years. Molehills became mountains. Missing orders were the end of the world. Staff late for shifts were swiftly sent home, only timely intervention from a more reasonable staff member saving their jobs. A drug dealer was discovered on the premises and was promptly beaten to a pulp, parole be damned. Afterwards his knuckles throbbed pleasurably and his blood sung in his veins and he felt ecstatic and alive.

The knife edge was tilting. The tightrope act was becoming decidedly unsteady; he was losing his balance with increasing regularity. It was only a matter of time before he slipped, and the only direction to fall in was down. Down into the abyss. But still he held on, despite his unreliable, tenuous grip. Brightness and light were still visible, but they were fading, and he was tiring.

And still the ghosts whispered their poison. Damaged, worthless, unhinged. Broken. Broken. Broken. It was hard to ignore when it fed into the fractured mindset already in place; his defenses were down.

The dead were gathering, waiting. But for what?

When Ste let Cheryl into his apartment late that night she was shocked by how drained he looked, but tried not to let her reaction show on her face.

"Happy New Year babe."

"Happy New Year," Ste said dully as Cheryl enveloped him into a hug. She landed an affectionate peck onto his cheek. When they parted Cheryl took a moment to assess Ste. Unusually, though in time gone by it had been normal, Ste was clad head to foot in a charcoal grey tracksuit that was too big on him, giving him an air of vulnerability, of being fragile, breakable. His hands were wrapped in the sleeve cuffs in what appeared to be an action designed to comfort. Ste's bare feet stood out starkly, the only area of his normally glowing skin visible apart from his tired face. Cheryl tried to block out the notion that occurred to her: that as Ste looked worse Brendan looked better, as though her brother had sucked the life out of him, draining him of his vitality.

Ste gestured for her to come in, and she followed him into the kitchen, which was surprisingly small given that it was owned by a chef, most of the granite worktops were taken up with appliances. She leant against the sink, eyes drifting to the fridge where several photographs were jauntily angled using magnets to hold them up. Cheryl was surprised and a little warmed when she noticed a photo of Brendan alongside the others. Leah was in the photo too, her arms flung around Brendan's neck in a gesture of easy, familiar affection. Brendan was smiling, or at least there were crinkles of contentment at his eyes, mouth turned up slightly at the corners, a side eyed focus on Leah's face instead of the camera.

"Drink?" Ste asked, causing Cheryl to blink and pull her eyes away from the image. He was pointing at a glass fronted cupboard where spirits were kept.

"Got any wine love?"

Ste grinned and suddenly he looked more like himself.

"Can do better than that Chez," he said, opening the fridge and retrieving a bottle of champagne.

"I like your thinking. So what are we celebrating?"

Ste shrugged his shoulders, releasing the trapped cork from its prison with a pop.

"New year new starts, isn't that the type of shit people normally say? Do we need an excuse?" he asked, handing a sleek flute to Cheryl, who tutted and laughed.

"Nope, no excuse required. Cheers. Happy Thursday."

Their glasses clinked musically and Cheryl sipped at the bubbles. Ste nearly asked if it was a bottle selected by Ben, but decided against it, instead gesturing to the photograph that had captured her attention earlier.

"Nice photo," she said, and Ste glanced over at the fridge, his face softening into a smile once more.

"That's our Leah that. She got one of them printers for Christmas, it does pictures from your phone or something. There's photos everywhere."

"She's fond of our Bren," Cheryl murmured. Ste regarded Cheryl, a flash of guilt evident in his eyes, but stepped towards the fridge, running his fingertips over Brendan's face as though he had been compelled to.

"Yeah. Sometimes think she's more in love with him than…" he paused awkwardly, and Cheryl smiled encouragingly.

"More in love with him than you are? Is that possible?"

She asked the question gently, without accusation. Nevertheless, Ste's expression shifted, something like agony on his face, tears filling his eyes.

"No Chez, I don't think it is," he said, discarding his glass on the counter and hastily wiping his face with a sleeve. Cheryl's heart ached for him, and she reached across, rubbing his upper arm soothingly.

"I'm sorry hun, I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't, it's fine. Come on, let's go sit in the other room."

Once ensconced in the comfort of the living room Ste seemed to have gathered himself. Tucked in the corner of the couch, Ste held his refilled glass in his lap, blanket spread across both him and Cheryl.

"You look tired babe," Cheryl said sympathetically. Ste laughed, but it was curiously lacking in humour.

"I don't know how people do it. Some people spend years having affairs don't they. I don't know how they can just get on with life. I can't think about anything else, me. Can't concentrate at work even."

"How long has it been going on? I thought after the bonfire night drama it was all over."

"Did Brendan not tell you?"

Cheryl rolled her eyes.

"Oh aye, you know what a big fan Bren is of a heart to heart. Even on a good day asking him for information is like getting blood from a stone."

"Right, yeah. Well, we made up… I guess it was right after the stud, you know, with Leah and the letters."

Cheryl took a deep breath and tried to contain her surprise. She could hardly believe so many weeks had gone by without her realizing what was going on. She had been so focused on trying to solve the issue with Mark and Brendan's therapy, not to mention pulling out all of the stops for his first Christmas on the outside, that Brendan and Ste's growing closeness had completely passed Cheryl by.

"I wish you'd told me love."

"I'm sorry Chez. I just wanted to wait until I'd told Ben before telling anyone else."

"So you are telling him?"

"Yeah. I was always going to. Just couldn't, you know, over Christmas and everything. Didn't want to disrupt the kids did I."

Cheryl ventured a smile, anticipation fluttering in her gut.

"You and Bren? You're going to be together? For real?"

Ste couldn't help but smile in return, the mention of Brendan seemed to alter his anxious mood instantly.

"I mean it'll take a bit of time, but… yeah, that's the idea."

"Wow. I can't believe it. I so hoped you guys would be able to work things out, but I thought it was just me and my romantic wishful thinking. He loves you so much Ste, you know that right?"

A blush spread across his cheeks.

"I think so. It still hurts that he shut me out for so long. Even more now than before I reckon, because now that we've decided to be together it feels like a right waste of time."

"It can't be helped now hun. No point in looking backwards. Besides, life's not been all bad has it?"

"Nah, course not. But it makes some stuff more complicated. Like, our Lucas, he doesn't remember him, and it takes him ages to warm up to people."

Cheryl drained her glass, thinking about Ste's shy son. She had been a presence in the Hay children's childhood, albeit intermittently, and had watched them both grow into their personalities. Leah was precocious, as well as having an abundance of charisma. People were naturally drawn to her, and the girl thrived on social situations of all types as a result. Lucas could not have been more of a contrast. He was clever but quiet, finding comfort in long standing relationships, hesitant to open up to anyone he saw as a stranger. Cheryl could see the problem that Brendan would pose to painfully shy Lucas.

"What about Ben?" Cheryl asked as delicately as she could. Ste momentarily closed his eyes as though he found the thought difficult.

"Lucas loves Ben. It took ages, but now he really does. He's been there since he was seven remember, it's a long time when you're that age."

"And what about you? How do you feel about him?"

Ste sighed, leaning his chin on his knees, body curled up into a protective position.

"He's not Brendan Chez. That's all there is."

Cheryl felt her eyes prick with tears and she sniffed loudly.

"Oh love…"

"It's just so hard to know how to tell him. We've been together so long. And we've been happy. It's complicated, especially with –" Ste stopped guiltily, shifting his limbs beneath him awkwardly.

"Especially with what? Am I missing something here?"

"Sort of. If I tell you Cheryl, you have to swear to me that you won't say anything to Brendan. I'm serious."

Cheryl held her hands up as if she was taking a pledge.

"Course I won't if you don't want me to babe. Look, how about I fill these glasses up first, and when I get back you can tell me all about it eh?"

Ste nodded, pulling the blanket away from Cheryl's legs, wrapping himself more securely in the fleece lined material.

"Sounds like a plan."

The club was busy, the night in full swing. Brendan glanced at his watch, mentally calculating the hours until last orders. He opened the office door and stepped out into the riot of lights and noise. There was a small contingent of dancers near the DJ booth, but most of the crowd that evening seemed to be there simply to drink and relax. He was surprised that there was still such a buzz despite it being the first few days of January, but Brendan supposed that most would be back to work after the weekend and were therefore still in holiday mode. Moving towards the bar he caught the eye of Jonas the shift supervisor, who gave Brendan a reassuring nod. All was well. Brendan changed direction to check out the ground floor, leaning over the railings that enclosed the mezzanine in order to get a better view. There he saw something which caused his eyebrows to raise, a sight that was unexpected to say the least. In the corner nearest the stairs stood his bar manager, deep in conversation with Ben, heads bent together in what appeared to be a private discussion. Brendan considered heading downstairs to gauge their reaction as he calmly interrupted them, but something told him to hold back. Instead, Brendan watched the pair intently, Stuart occasionally touching Ben's elbow, perhaps trying to emphasis a pertinent point. He remembered Stuart's warning from a couple of weeks ago, advising Brendan that him and Ste should be discreet. Should he have given this seemingly coincidental connection between the two men more thought than he had? At the time Brendan had dismissed it as irrelevant, yet seeing them together stirred suspicion within him.

After what felt like an eternity, but was in reality only a few minutes, Stuart walked away from Ben, away from the darkness of the stairway, back into the fluorescent glow of the lower level bar. Brendan tried to get a look at Ben's face, trying to get a sense of the man's mood, but as Stuart walked away the other man swiftly turned so that he was largely shrouded in shadow. Humming thoughtfully, Brendan pushed himself away from the railings and headed towards his original destination. There was one chair available at the bar, so Brendan used this good fortune to take a seat, motioning without words for Jonas to pour him a drink. Jonas did so quickly, without fuss, a trait which Brendan appreciated. It was a routine of sorts; if all was quiet and he wasn't needed behind the bar, Brendan would sit in front of it for one or two instead, sometimes striking up conversations with customers, sometimes chatting a little with the staff. Jonas paused with a slight smile on his young freckled face.

"Everything okay boss?"

"Grand. All quiet on the western front?"

Jonas glanced across at the bar staff who were busying themselves with the various tasks they had been assigned.

"Yeah all good. Sophie wants to swap her late on Tuesday for the split shift on Thursday. Faye's cool with it but I told her to check with you first."

Brendan sipped his whiskey, the ice spinning in the glass and knocking against his mouth, sending a shock of cold through his teeth. He looked over towards Sophie, the newest and youngest member of staff, who was opening beer bottles with her tongue in between her teeth in an expression of concentration. He liked her; something about Sophie had reminded him of Leah, which had led him to take her on despite a lack of experience.

"How's she getting on?" Brendan asked, and Jonas nodded in a way that was overly casual. Clearly someone had taken a shine to the new girl.

"Yeah she's doing good. Picking it up dead quick, can't believe she's only been here three weeks. Natural with the customers."

"Good to hear. Sure you'll be glad to be keeping an eye on her, eh?" Brendan said with a smirk, watching in amusement as Jonas coloured a little, returning to serving a little way down the bar. Shaking his head with a laugh, Brendan returned his attention to his whiskey, letting himself be warmed by the alcohol and the familiar atmosphere of his domain. However he was not given long to enjoy the rare moment of peace. A tap on his shoulder caused Brendan to turn around to see Ben standing behind him, holding a drink in one hand.

"Brendan. Is there somewhere we could talk? In private?"

Brendan knocked back the dregs of his whiskey and held the glass towards the bar. It was swiftly removed from his grip and replaced moments later, replenished. All the while Brendan's gaze remained on Ben, who to his credit seemed to be unfazed, calmly awaiting a response, his expression giving nothing away.

"Mmm. My office. Follow me."

Brendan led the way back to the office, closing the door on the commotion and noise of the club. Sitting in his desk chair, whiskey deposited on the table in front of him, Brendan gestured for Ben to take a seat opposite him. His brain unhelpfully supplied a flashback to Ste's naked body bent forward over the desk, pert arse pink with marks from Brendan's hands; slaps that he had administered whilst Ste keened with pleasure. To redirect his thoughts, Brendan chose instead to take in the man sat before him. He hadn't taken much notice of Ben previously, because whenever he had been in his vicinity the far superior figure of Ste had been there to capture his attention. Being alone with Ben meant an opportunity to analyse the competition. He was walking proof of Ste's type: Ben was tall, dark and had an attractive open face, grey streaks in the sides of his hair the only real indication of age. He was wearing a pale blue shirt which was open at the neck, revealing a hint of chest hair. Although Ben was clean shaven and slimmer than Brendan, he could still understand the attraction, even though the man in front of him was not his cup of tea.

"So what can I do for you?" Brendan asked, cold politeness to his tone. Ben regarded him for a moment without emotion before beginning.

"You know that Ste and I have been together for five years now. So I first heard of your existence a long time back. He told me about your life together, and about how he was... after you got put away."

Excerpts of the letters played in Brendan's head, fragments of heartbreak that had embedded themselves in his mind.

"Okay..."

"You see, we've never had secrets from each other. I know the good, the bad and the ugly, and I love him anyway. One thing we have in common perhaps."

When it was clear that Brendan had no intention of responding, Ben sighed and continued.

"All that changed when you turned up. It's funny really, over the years there have been times when he was distant, and I knew he was thinking about you. When he opened the restaurant, it was obvious Ste regretted not being able to share it with you. But those moments always passed. Until now. Ste's been... absent, and it's not exactly hard to work out why."

"What exactly is it that you're trying to say to me?"

Ben took a deep breath and drank deeply from his glass. Brendan noticed that Ben's hands were trembling a little.

"I know you've been sleeping with him Brendan."

Brendan nodded, rubbing the bridge of his nose, trying to drive the ecstatic sound of Ste coming in this very room out of his head.

"How?"

Ben laughed and spread out his hands on the desk.

"It hardly takes a genius to work it out. But if I needed the proof, I suppose the love bites on my boyfriend's thighs that I didn't put there were a pretty good indicator. There's marks all over him and he's not even bothered to hide them. I think he might be hoping that I'll confront him so that he doesn't have to confess."

Brendan could hear the hurt and betrayal that Ben's voice was laced with. He felt a shiver of guilt despite himself.

"Why haven't you?"

Ben smiled then, an unnerving smile that made Brendan shift a little in his seat.

"You clearly haven't been paying attention Brendan. Do you suppose that I'm going to make this easy for him?"

Brendan considered his words, ccking his head a little to look into Ben's eyes intently.

"Some might say that making it easy would be exactly what you should do for somebody you claim to love."

"You know you've got a nerve. You didn't have to come back here, didn't have to seek Ste out. He was happy before you showed your face."

Brendan raised a cynical eyebrow.

"You saying he ain't happy now?"

"I'm saying that walking away from his life and all of his future plans isn't something that should be done lightly."

Brendan sat back in his chair, holding his glass in the palm of one hand.

"Future plans. Huh."

"You are aware of how much Ste's children mean to him, aren't you Brendan?"

"Of course I am," Brendan spat, temper beginning to fray. Ben looked wary, but continued nonetheless.

"Well, they mean a lot to me too, Leah and Lucas. Great kids. Known Lucas since he was just a little kid. We're close."

There were several responses available to Brendan. He took a deep breath and decided to attempt the reasonable, grown up option.

"No-one would ask you to give up Leah and Lucas. If you want to keep in touch with them, then -"

"You don't understand, do you? It's not about them. Or not just about them. I'm sure you've realised that my work takes me away a lot. Conveniently for you. But I've been putting things in place these last few months, starting with a new job based in Manchester. No more going away. I've also got an offer on the table for a house outside Chester, nearer Amy."

Brendan felt a little uneasy, as though a bombshell was about to be dropped.

"See, me and Ste had talked - oh, a few months ago now - about our work life balance. He wanted it to change, wanted us to spend more time together. To be a proper family."

"You have no-one in your corner. I want to be in your corner."

Leah had been right. No-one was in more need of someone in their corner than Brendan was. He stood up, ready for this conversation to be over.

"Look, I'm very sorry for the... inconvenience, or whatever, but -"

Ben made an exasperated sound and shook his head.

"You still don't get it Brendan, so let me spell it out for you. Ste wants another baby."

What had he expected? The words of a scorned lover? Begging or belittling, pleading or insulting. Not this. Brendan sunk back down into his chair, shellshocked. He stared at Ben, hoping for elaboration yet fearing it at the same time.

"You see now. The new job and the new house were to go alongside beginning the adoption process. All of that was decided before you turned up."

"Fuck."

The word escaped Brendan's mouth before he could stop it. Ben slid a piece of paperwork from his pocket and pushed it in Brendan's direction. It was an official form, an acceptance of Ste and Ben's application for adoption.

"You're his past Brendan. Ste's unfinished business. It's natural for him to wonder what might have been. But me, the new baby. That's his future. You need to let him live his life."

Brendan's mouth was dry, and he coughed to clear his throat.

"Does Steven... does he know?"

"Not yet. The paperwork only came through two days ago... whatever he's promised you, he'll try to stick to it, because he doesn't like to let people down."

"Fucks sake, do you think I don't know that? Do you think I don't know him?"

Ben shrugged and retrieved the adoption letter, folding it carefully and placing it back where he had been keeping it.

"I just meant that when I tell him, when I show him this, he'll be conflicted. You need to help there Brendan. You said it yourself earlier, you should make things easier for the one you love. Ste's future is with me."

This time when Brendan stood up Ben did the same.

"Good chat," Brendan said, dismissing Ben without giving him any expectation of an answer. Shaking his head, Ben made his way to the door.

"Just think over what I've said Brendan. See you around."

For a long while Brendan stood like a statue, unable to move. The inevitability pressing down on him felt familiar, as if this was what he had been waiting for all along. For a brief moment in time Steven had been so close to being his, but all the while he had been holding his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. There was anger somewhere, lingering, but it was trapped behind a wall, unmovable. Brendan held his whiskey glass in his palm, feeling thw weight of it in his hand. With all the effort he could muster he flung it at the opposite wall, watching as the impact sent the glass exploding in all directions. Somehow it didn't make him feel any better.

'Come over when you finish x'

"Brendan, that's the last. We okay to lock up?"

He stands behind the bar at one of the tills, teaching Sophie to cash up. It's become an easier task since the last time Brendan was in this job; fewer people carried cash on a night out than they used to. They go through the motions; counting the denominations, writing down the amounts, checking the total against the print out. Tonight the count is accurate and he gives Sophie a quick glance of admiration.

"I was boss at maths at school. Only thing I was good at," Sophie explains in response to his look. As Stuart arrives back from locking the doors, Brendan gestures him over.

"Got a little Einstein on our hands here, make sure you put her on some close shifts next week."

"Bloody hell, that was quick. Good job Sophie. You enjoyed your first full shift?"

"It's gone dead quick. I did alright though, didn't I Brendan?"

She looks up at Brendan, seeking approval, and he briefly rests a reassuring hand on her upper back.

"You're a natural. Now if you ladies can cope with finishing off here, I'm going to get going."

"Sure thing boss. Want me to come in for the early delivery tomorrow?"

"No, no need. I've got to finish some paperwork, so."

It is bitterly cold when Brendan leaves the club to head across the high street towards Oakdale Drive. It causes him to break into a slight jog, cold breath is released as curls of vapour. The street is deserted and therefore quiet, so his footsteps seem to echo at an almost deafening volume. When he reaches Ste's door he rings the bell and jigs on the spot to dispel the cold, blowing warm air into the cocoon of his hands. Oddly there is no response, so Brendan rings the doorbell once more, pressing his finger to it for longer. This time he hears noise from inside, and finally Ste is standing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes blearily. His hair is sticking up at odd angles, and Brendan realises that he has clearly woken him up.

"Brendan?" Ste says croakily, his forehead crinkled with confusion.

"You said to come over. I can go," Brendan says, pointing backwards. Ste shakes his head, trying to rearrange his hair which refuses to flatten.

"A normal person would of replied to my message so I'd know to wait up. What time is it?"

He examines his watch; it's just after three.

"Steven, could we continue this conversation inside? I'm freezing my bollocks off here."

"Can't have that can we?" Ste says with a little laugh, moving out of the doorway to let Brendan through. Brendan pauses in the narrow hallway, moving his hands up to Ste's neck, pressing their lips together. Ste tastes like sweet tea and the beginning of sleep; the shiver that passes through Brendan's body has nothing to do with the cold.

He has only been inside Ste's flat on one other occasion, because Ste always volunteered to come to Brendan's. While Ste disappears into the kitchen, Brendan takes the opportunity to look around the living room. There are Christmas decorations everywhere, no discernable colour scheme in evidence. The tree in the corner of the room is adorned with tinsel of all different hues, baubles caked in glitter dangling from the branches. Hanging from the fireplace mantel are four stockings, names embroidered in gold thread. Brendan smiles at the one clearly belonging to Ste, the word 'daddy' emblazoned on it; a relic from the time when the children were small.

Taking a seat on the couch, Brendan spots a pile of photographs on the coffee table. He picks them up and flicks through them. Ste closes the door, juggling a glass of whiskey and a mug.

"Do you want a coffee, or whiskey?"

Brendan rests his chin on his shoulder as he watches Ste plonk himself down on the couch, holding out both drinks.

"Both sounds good."

"Thought so," Ste says, smug satisfaction of knowing what Brendan wants evident on his face.

"You not having anything?"

"Nah, just cleaned my teeth haven't I."

Brendan hums in response and turns his attention back to the photographs. Ste drapes an arm around Brendan's neck and looks over his shoulder.

"They're Leah's. Most of them are selfies and stuff. There's some of you though, look."

Ste grabs the stack out of Brendan's hand, shuffling through them until he finds what he is looking for. Brendan is momentarily caught off guard by the look of contentment on his face; he thinks this must be incorrect, that it must be a photo from another life. But sure enough these images have come from the lunch he had with the Hay children. Brendan had put up a half hearted protest, but Leah was insistent, snapping shots of them together as if he had always been there. As if they were family. The next one in the pile is not a selfie. In fact, Brendan does not remember it being taken. It is of both Ste and Brendan standing at the bar, Brendan's hand on Ste's. He recalls the interaction; Ste had gone up to pay and Brendan had jumped up to stop him, putting his hand over the money Ste was offering up. The moment Leah has captured shows them smiling at one another, eyes focused entirely on each other. It is curiously intimate, even though they are in a public place. Anyone who had seen them must have known there was more to their relationship than friends having lunch.

"Huh," Brendan mutters. Ste kisses his stubbled cheek affectionately; he too is mesmerised by the image in front of him.

"That's our future, right there," Ste murmurs in his ear, and Brendan's breath catches in his throat.

"What, having to wrestle money from your hand every time we go anywhere?" Brendan asks lightly to dispel the tension of the moment. Ste pushes him playfully.

"You have to let me pay sometimes Brendan. I'm independent, me."

Brendan deposits the photographs to the coffee table and shifts his body towards Ste's, looking into his fierce and vulnerable eyes.

"I've never doubted that for a second Steven," he says, leaning in to kiss him, open mouthed, tongues massaging and exploring. Ste slides Brendan's suit jacket from his shoulders, and he pushes it on to the floor out of the way, careless of how it lands. In minutes they are naked and Brendan is on his knees next to his jacket, licking and biting his way up the soft skin of Ste's inner thighs. He sucks deeply, applying his teeth to the sensitive, rarely exposed flesh, marking his territory, and all the while Ste gasps and moans, gripping Brendan's hair in his fingers. He pauses for a moment, gazing up at Ste's aroused, flushed face.

"This is our future Steven. Right here."

A/N: Apologies for the slow update, as I found this one very tough to write. I have had the story planned out since I began writing, and I am getting to the darker events (not that this has been a light hearted romp at any point!). I want readers to enjoy this fic and am aware most people love Brendan and Ste together - including me, despite this story suggesting otherwise at times! All I can say is for those who have been following: thank you, and I hope that the heavy subject matter does not put anyone off, as I am so so grateful for the kind words about the story so far xx