A/N: There seems to be a bit of angst in it. Eek, I don't know how it found it's self in here, but it won't happen again! Scouts honour.

Reviews and just people reading this make me smile, so enjoy.

Ste's POV

Saturday morning.

Brendan's driving us to the seaside, it might sound pretty lame but this is a big thing for us; for Brendan. I would have never of dreamt of us spending quality time together, he can be a knob head at times, but who isn't?

I strangely don't feel all that bad about lying to Rae this time around, it's probably because it's become a regular habit, and she doesn't ask any questions. The kids are safe with her, I shouldn't just dump them on her like this, but she loves those kids. And, in a way, I love her. But this, the silence, the uncertainty is so much more than what Rae offers me.

I didn't bother asking where he got the car from. Some poor bloke is probably wondering where his car has got to. But the excitement in my body is at full volume right now to care about anyone else.

Ironically, the soft sound of 'Chasing Cars' plays from the stereo. He turns to stare at me a few times with the odd smile; he wines down the windows slightly, the slow breeze cooling up the warm car. Wind running through our hair; it's like a cheap budget romantic film, pretty unreal, and damn right cheesy. But I like it. And I think Brendan does too.

'I'm starving.'

Oh my God, I think to myself. How does he never put weight on? He's constantly eating junk.

'Are you serious?'

He looks at me from the corner of his eyes and laughs slightly.

'I'm very serious! I haven't had anything for nearly 2 hours, we'll have to stop at a takeout.'

'Fine' I say in a huff. '…whatever you say.'

There's nothing for a few miles, just cornfields and the odd tractor; there's little village houses small, tidy and quiet. They look so different to what I have back at home. What lucky bastards, I think to myself. But one thing they don't have, one thing they'll never have is the addictive man beside me. Brendan Brady.

'Nice one.' He points at a hotdog stand.

I just shake and laugh as we turn onto the pebbled pavement. He gives me a little wink as we leave the car. I sit at the little bench at the side, and take in the fresh surroundings.

It's like a different planet. The scenery, sound and smell are slightly unknown to my senses. I would have loved this as a kid, just precious family time, but what I had in reality was hell compared to this…

'Here.'

He hands me over wrapped up hotdog and sits beside me. He puts his hand in his pocket and pulls out a pair of shades. He sighs contently as he sits back properly. I can't help but laugh. He hates the suggestion of been queer, and persists that he's straight, but he doesn't mind whipping out shades like that! Amusing, just one of his quality's I can't seem to get enough of.

'Fuck sake, I haven't got sauce on my bad boy again, have I?'

I look at him confused, forgetting that I'm still laughing at him; and 'bad boy'? We may have to come up for a better name than that for it.

'No, no. Just happy that's all.' And it's not a lie.

I bite into my slightly over greased hot dog and I sit that bit near to him. I can sense his eyes watching my through his shades, but he doesn't move away from me or tell me to move so I guess it's okay to stay like this, even for a little bit.

'Can you believe it?' I say in a slightly mocked tone.

'Wha'?' He fits in between licking his fingers clean.

'We're sat like this and the world hasn't ended. And that couple over there don't seem to care how I am with you.'

We both look at the young couple walking to get their own snack. The woman gives us a smile, maybe a knowing smile. I don't know, just something that makes me realise it's not all that bad. This is what I've wanted, maybe not in this place, but that's fine. This is process; this is what I know I want most.

Just me and Brendan. Me and Brendan not to have worries.

He gets up from behind me and chucks his rubbish in the bin.

'Come on.' He orders walking back to the car.

I skip to the car, I'm wary of how he's going to be with me. I can feel the difference around us. It seems to go dull, and that sparkling light that was there before seems to have turned off. I'm a fucking idiot, first class idiot.

'I'm sorry…' I say quickly.

'I just wanted to prove a point… I shouldn't have done that, we can turn back if you want, we…'

'Will you shur up, Stephen?' He snaps.

I breathe in and out, worried what he's going to do or say next. He takes off his shades and puts them back in his leather jacket.

I look up at him, he doesn't look mad, but you can never be too sure of what he's thinking. I try a smile at him, another apology on my part that doesn't contain words been spoken or heard. He's commented several times on how I talk too much, and he does have a point.

'We all have our weaknesses, Stephen. And as much as I hate to admit it, you're mine.'

I try to understand.

'I take it that's bad then?'

He sighs heavily and rubs his forehead.

'In a way, yeah, but you also have this annoying ability to make me a bit stronger.'

I do? I make him strong, I thought that was only one sided. I look and smile at him.

'Sorry.' I say again, this time more at ease.

He looks at me and raises his hand to touch my cheek. He strokes it with his thumb for a mil-second before putting it back on the steering wheel.

'So you should be.' He laughs warmly.

We arrive at the hotel about 45minutes later. Its proper lush, four poster bed, on suite bathroom, TV on the wall, the view of the beach is pleasant and the sun shines through onto the light décor room.

'This is brilliant.'

I jump on the bed, and it wobbles underneath me.

'Ha! It's a water bed.'

I look over at Brendan hanging up his coat and taking off his shoes. He doesn't seem all that fussed by it. I suppose he's been to enough hotels to not tell the difference.

'A water bed?' I hear him question.

'Yeah, isn't it brilliant?'

He nips his tongue between his teeth and strides over to me onto the bed. He jumps on it and bounces on it a bit.

'We'll have to shag on the floor or against the wall then.' He says breezily.

I widen my eyes at him in amusement.

'Who said you'll be getting any?'

What stupid thing to say, Ste. Dear me, I'm surprised we haven't already done it in the car on the here. He's a vice I seem to only need.

He rubs at my jeans slowly.

'Because this is what we are here for. Mindless fucks that last for hours, you'd be fooling even the densest people if you said it wasn't.'

'I'm not just a piece of meat, Brendan.'

He smiles at me, his huge teeth showing fully for the first time today.

'You're right.' He says walking away. 'You're the finest cut of meat I've ever tasted.'

We get room service, maybe it's because of the price of the food, or just the fact we only want to spend this time together; no other people around us to remind us this will soon be over, and we'll have to move on.

Well, Brendan says he moves on, but I know memories of us are there in his mind and body. How could they not? Moments we've shared are some of the best in my life, if not the best.

We sit at the small table in the corner of the room. Two candles lit in the middle, wine in a bucket of ice. Brendan dressed smartly, not sure why, guess his appearance is important to him, but he could sit there in a bin bag and I wouldn't care.

He pulls the wine out of the bucket.

'Cherry wine?'

'What's your point?'

I cut into my steak as he opens the bottle.

'It's a bit…feminine don't'cha think?'

He asks wary.

'Are you worried it'll start making you wearing pink? Or even worse, make you that little bit more…camp.'

He pours the wine into both glasses; he sniffs at it like there's poison in there or something.

'I am not 'camp', Stephen.' His words are firm but I sit and laugh at him.

He takes a small sip of the wine and swirls it around in his mouth. Just drink the god damn thing I think to myself. He finally swallows it and tucks into his meal.

'Please, Brendan. You give those fella's from The Village People a run for their money.'

I yelp in pain as he kicks me under the table.

'Ow!'

'Don't push it.'

And I wouldn't normally push it any further, but the small glint of happiness in his eyes makes me want to play a bit more. I smile at him.

'You listen to Cheryl Cole.'

'She's got a nice pair of pins on her, that's why.' He quickly hits back.

'You moisturise.'

'Only on weekends.'

As if that makes a difference!

'You wear an eye mask for bed.'

'I like it to be pitch black, Stephen. You know that. Anyway, what is this? Pick on Brendan day?'

'I'd hardly call it 'picking' on you.'

'And…'

He pushes his folk and knife down on the plate, and rests his head on his hands as he waits for me to 'pick' on him.

'And what…'

I eat my last bit of steak and peas. I sit back in the chair and chew down the meat until it's small enough to swallow. I then take a gulp of the wine, and look at him as I purposely take the piss to continue.

'You like sucking cock.'

He laughs loudly from over the table, the sound is different, it's not as rough or strong, it's soft… slightly embarrassed and young sounding.

'What's camp about that?'

He cocks up his eyebrow, bastard as a point. There's nothing camp about that actually, and I like taking his cock… his cock, that slender, long cock that matches all jug saw pieces up. That cock that makes me want nothing more.

'Go get the ice-cream.'

A/N: I have no idea what this chapter was about. I just seemed to write rubbish until I found a suitable ending. Desert and sex anyone? ;)