Five hours they'd been sitting in that room, going through the exact details of the deal. If Walker and Brendan had been organising it alone, it would have taken less than half that time, but they were stuck with a contact they had in Bournemouth, a man whose mouth was as large as his connections. He'd needed every detail ironed out, until Brendan had the strong desire to lock him in the nearest cupboard, and call off the whole thing.

Sometimes he wondered why he still went away on these trips. It had been fun at first, the thrill of it. He'd even successfully used it to tease Steven, when he'd taken away that dumb blonde Carmel to Barcelona. But Steven was...well, he was no longer part of the equation. Firmly off limits to him.

The money was a factor, of course it was. But even he had to admit that wasn't it. Perhaps it was the man walking alongside the sand with him now. Light brown hair, down to his ears. Sculptured cheekbones. Eyes which seem to observe everything and everyone. A curved, distinctive mouth with firm, plumped lips. A neck which is so often covered by a jacket, except for the rare times when Brendan has access to it, and sees its elongated shape. A muscular body which somehow moves with a strange kind of gracefulness.

Walker sits down on the sand lazily, his sprawling limbs making imprints.

"Come on, lets go home."

It's getting dark, and Brendan wants to start the journey back to Chester before Joel and Cheryl start calling him, worrying about his prolonged absence.

"We're not driving like this."

He still holds the bottle of whiskey that they'd brought for the meeting, in lieu of celebration, but really to give their mouths and hands something to do while they steeled themselves for an afternoon of being talked at.

The bottle's still relatively full, but Brendan can sense Walker's slightly slurred speech, and the feeling of warmth that is spreading through his own body. He could protest against being on this deserted beach as the sun's coming down, but he finds he doesn't have the incentive to move. He instead slumps down on the sand with Walker, taking the offered bottle and swallowing down the comforting liquid.

It reminds him of being back home, and he feels the tension that's been on his shoulders ease off for the first time that day, that week, that month. They can both hear the sounds of the sea, and its soothing nature renders them both quiet for several minutes as they sit alongside each other, sharing the whiskey between them, their hands brushing against one another's as they pass the bottle.

Walker reaches out suddenly and begins undoing his shoes. Brendan watches out of the corner of his eye as his bare feet are revealed, and Walker buries them beneath the sand. He then lies back, his hands behind his head, resting against them. The movement has caused Walker's shirt to ride up the smallest amount, and Brendan catches a glimpse of his exposed stomach, and the fair, almost blonde hairs that lie scattered on it, leading to his groin.

Brendan unconsciously wets his lips, moistening them. His mind travels back to that rarely spoken about night in the office. Walker bent over his desk, Brendan's cock up his arse, thrusting into the man so hard that the entire desk had shifted forward. His body had felt almost raw afterwards, sated beyond belief. He hadn't fucked someone that way in a long time.

Since then they'd worked hard to keep it strictly business between them. Although he would never say it, Brendan privately thought that they made a pretty good team. Walker understood him. It just...worked.

Brendan lies back in the sand with him. He allows his own shirt to bundle slightly around his lower stomach, so that his darker hair is on display. He sees Walker's eyes flicker over it, drinking him in.

He knows that Walker has a particular fascination with his body hair. His eyes had glazed over it last time, his hands stroking it. It didn't seem to matter which area it was - chest, stomach, groin, arse - Walker had leisurely trailed his fingers over it, then wet the area with his mouth, coating it in a light sheen of spit. He had paid the most attention to Brendan's entrance, tonguing the scattered, soft hairs around his hole, making them damp with his ministrations.

Brendan knows they are both thinking about it.

He stretches, allowing his arm to brush against Walker's. The man turns his face towards him, and it is hard and solid, but his voice is soft, suggestive, enticing.

"Want to play a game?"

Brendan swallows. He can imagine the kind of games Walker enjoys playing.

"Like what?" He can't help but reveal his curiosity.

Walker smiles, those beautiful lips of his curving upwards. His head tilts towards the sea.

"Fancy a swim?"

"Now?"

He nods boldly, his eyes never leaving Brendan's.

"It's freezing in there, you know."

"I didn't think you were afraid of anything, Brendan."

Brendan pauses, not failing to notice the way Walker's eyes are animated, bright with possibility.

"What's the game?"

The same old, familiar smirk registers on Walker's face.

"I won't be wearing any clothes."

Brendan raises his eyebrows.

"Neither will you."

Brendan takes another sip of whiskey.

Sometimes, you don't let anyone in. It's easier that way. No one gets hurt. You go to work, you see your sister, your kids. Everything is controlled, regimented. You forget about the things that make you feel alive, the buzz that you can get from them. And it works, for a little while. But not forever. Never forever.

Brendan can feel that same buzz now, coursing through him. An ache in his bones that is crying out for relief. A need to be buried in someones heat, and to be filled so completely that it knocks the very breath out of him. He could get it anywhere. The club. Hotels. Anonymous bars where no one knows who he is, what he's done.

But he doesn't want it from anywhere. He wants it here, with this man, because he can't shake the sense that there is something he can give him which is almost carnal, something which reaches right to the heart of him.

"What's in it for me?"

Walker laughs. "I think you know."

Brendan can't help but smile in anticipation.

Yeah, he knows.

"You first, then."

Walker lays the whiskey bottle on the ground, and stretches his arms above his head, discarding his jacket and t-shirt in one clean motion. Brendan surveys his golden skin, the clenched, taut abdominal muscles.

Fuck, he's gorgeous.

"Your turn," Walker challenges, and Brendan can hear the lightest hint of playfulness in his voice.

He is enjoying this.

Brendan undoes his shirt buttons slowly, exposing his chest inch by inch, until the dark hair shows through. He still has that solidness to him that he developed when they were both in prison, and Walker's eyes linger over it, allowing his own excitement to build. Soon all that covers Brendan's chest is the dangling silver cross, gleaming in the near darkness.

"Pants next," Walker says matter of factly, but he is betrayed by the merest stutter in his voice, hinting at his own arousal.

"Someone's being bossy tonight, Simon."

He stares him down, until Walker's hands reach to his own buckle, and he unzips his jeans, standing up to pull them loosely down to his ankles, and then over his exposed feet. He is wearing a pair of boxer briefs, tight, and they cling to him wonderfully, highlighting his balls and cock. Brendan considers leaning forward and running his tongue over the material, wetting the cotton, making it tent. But he holds back. They have all the time in the world for that.

Walker looks at Brendan expectantly, and he rises alongside him. Their eyes never break contact as Brendan pulls off his jeans, leaving them in a sandy heap on the floor. Walker's hands clench, trying not to reach forwards and stroke Brendan's cock through his black boxers.

Walker wordlessly makes a movement over to the sea, and starts to walk towards it. Brendan takes a look around the beach, then back at his clothes, but it is deserted, and he decides it'll be safe. He follows, and the two men continue until their feet brush against the coolness of the water.

Walker turns to him. "You look like you could use some help there."

He puts his hands either side of Brendan's hips, settling on his boxers. He stares into Brendan's eyes for a moment, as if requesting permission. Brendan knows he should shrug him off, reaffirm his control, but his fingers are making circular motions against his skin, and he melts into the touch.

He nods slowly, granting his acquiescence, and Walker pulls his boxers down, exposing Brendan's cock. It's soft between his legs, his ball sack loose and dangling. Brendan steps forward, so he's close enough to whisper in Walker's ear.

"Now yours."

Walker nods eagerly, and Brendan pulls down his briefs, bending to his knees to do so, so that Walker's cock is at his eye level. Brendan's hands grip onto Walker's arse cheeks. Walker swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. Brendan learnt in the office that he has a liking for having his cock and balls sucked slowly. Brendan deep throated him, and when his mouth would slacken, Walker would gently guide his head back down there, thrusting himself as far into Brendan's mouth as he could get.

Brendan stands to his feet once more, and laughs throatily as he sees the look of disappointment on Walker's face.

Horny bastard.

Walker tries to mask his expression, and kicks at the water by his feet instead, causing it to ripple.

"You ever done this before?"

"No," Brendan answers honestly. "You?"

"No," Walker lies.

Walker steps closer to the water. The cold is a shock at first, even though he knew it was coming. Brendan can see the goosebumps appearing on his skin. Walker gives his body a shake, as if trying to dismantle them, and then wades into the water until it's level with his chest. He hears a sound behind him, and realises that Brendan's joined him. Brendan swims over to him, and disappears under the water once, before reemerging with wet, shining hair, swept back from his face. His moustache has little drops of sea water attached to it, and Walker knows his lips would be salty to taste.

Walker lies on his back floating, staring up at the sky as he registers Brendan lightly swimming around him. Brendan didn't realise how amazing this would feel, how liberating. After the initial discomfort of the cold water, his body now feels freed from the confines of restriction and clothing.

He feels almost like a kid again, light, energetic, playful. Noticing how Walker is closing his eyes, he splashes him with the water, and the man looks at him in surprise. Brendan laughs loudly, and after a moment Walker's face relaxes, and he splashes Brendan in return.

They both try to swim away from each others movements, the beach being filled by the sound of laughter. Brendan circles close to him, and Walker suddenly moves towards him, leaning forwards to press his lips to Brendan's. Brendan pulls back, looking at Walker. His pupils are dilated, his eyes wide, his lips bee stung, impossibly red already. His breathing has gotten harsher. Brendan feels his own groin twitch just from watching this man, from seeing how much he wants it.

He kisses him, and they both use their legs to stay afloat, kicking lightly beneath the water. Brendan anchors Walker's face towards his by placing a hand on his cheek, and Walker takes that as confirmation, his tongue massaging against Brendan's, moaning into his mouth.

Walker loves the prickliness of Brendan's moustache across his upper lip. With the force of how Brendan's kissing him, he'll be left with a pink rash there the following day, but he doesn't care. He likes these marks and signs of sex. It will be proof - of what they've done here, of how good they made each other feel.

Brendan's hands extend lower and lower, until they settle around Walker's thighs. Walker claws his back desperately, the result of being starved of any sexual contact between them for months. He has never been with someone like Brendan before - so dominant, in every sense. There is a pleasure to it that scares and delights him. With Brendan, he feels like every nerve ending he has is burning into a thousand flames.

They explore each others mouths ferociously, and it is both enough, and never enough. They need to feel that connection, and Brendan thinks he'll start touching himself if he isn't inside Walker soon. He breaks off and heads back to shore wordlessly. Walker follows, no explanation needed.

The sand becomes darker as it's covered in their wet footprints. Their cocks stand erect on their stomachs, all nine and seven inches. They stare at each other unashamedly, both of them panting from their exertions and their increasing arousal.

"Lie down," Brendan demands, his eyes dark, and Walker follows his instructions, his legs spread widely.

Brendan gets to his knees and crawls over to him. He reclaims Walker's lips, kissing them with such passion that he bites him, and Walker draws away, staring at him hungrily.

"I don't have any lube..."Brendan says apologetically.

"Just use spit."

Brendan doesn't want to hurt him, but it'll have to do. He didn't envisage this when they had set out for Bournemouth. Walker is spread eagled in front of him now, looking like a fucking Greek God, his eyes full of lustful intent. He can't bear to break the spell.

Brendan trails his tongue over Walker's lips, then rolls onto his back.

"Get on me."

Walker tries to climb on top of Brendan, but Brendan stills him with his hands.

"No," he says softly. "Other way."

Walker looks confused for a moment, and then smiles knowingly, mischievously.

He gently climbs on top of Brendan and bends his legs, his large frame settling so that his hole is positioned close to Brendan's lips, his own mouth tickling against Brendan's cock.

Brendan laps at Walker's hole, feeling the scant, delicious hairs brushing against his tongue. Walker clenches his arse at the feeling, and Brendan smoothes his palms over it to relax him, enjoying the soft skin under his fingertips. Walker positions his arse back further, coaxing Brendan to coil his tongue in deeper.

His hands move to stroke Walker's back, reminding him that he has needs of his own which require some attention. He feels Walker's mouth on his cock then. He is good at this. Very, very good. Enthusiastic, but he knows how to pace himself so that Brendan doesn't come too soon. He alternates between short, teasing licks along the shaft, and encasing his cock fully, his nose buried in Brendan's pubic hair, breathing in his scent.

Walker has never been with someone as big as Brendan, but he relishes the way his mouth adjusts around the girth of him, trying to take as much in as possible. Brendan grips his hand into the sand at the pressure of Walker's lips. At times it stops him from remembering to use his own tongue, and Walker wiggles his arse slightly in Brendan's direction, acting as a reminder. Brendan concentrates on opening him up, until he senses from Walker's wetness and puckered, pink, stretched entrance that he is ready.

Walker's mouth has dropped to Brendan's balls, and Brendan eases him off him reluctantly, Walker dropping the loose, soft, hairy sack from his lips.

A condom. He needs a condom. Shit. He never forgets these things. He has always been safe, no matter what happens. It was something he learnt when he started going out with Eileen. It would all be okay, he could keep it locked away, keep her protected, as long as he used a condom.

"I don't..."

Walker seems to read his mind, because he digs in the pocket of his jeans which are lying discarded in the sand next to them, and takes out a foil packet.

Perhaps Brendan wasn't prepared for this, but it sure as hell looks like Walker was.

"Put it on me, won't you?"

Walker rips it open and slowly slips it onto Brendan's cock, making him shiver from the action.

Brendan puts his hands either side of Walker's head on the sand, and encourages him to raise his legs onto his shoulders. Walker is larger than the other boys he's been with before, but no less flexible. He bends his legs easily, giving Brendan access to his entrance, their chests flush against one another.

Walker places a hand over Brendan's cock, and Brendan lays a hand on top of his. They guide his cock to Walker's entrance together, both so frantic for it that they are almost shaking.

When it breaches Walker, he takes an intake of breath, closing his eyes. Brendan strokes down the side of his face.

"You okay?"

Walker nods, biting his lip. Brendan repositions and pushes in again, watching as his cock disappears into Walker's tight hole. It is mesmerizing, a sight he could happily get used to.

He starts slowly, allowing Walker time to adjust to it, and making each thrust as deep and sensual as possible. Walker reaches out a hand and runs it along Brendan's leg, touching the thick hair that covers it.

"Simon."

"Mmm." Walker sounds distant, as though he's floating.

"Open your eyes."

"Why?" He murmurs idly.

"I want to see you when I make you come."

Walker smirks. "You're a dirty fucker, aren't you Brady?"

But he opens them nonetheless, returning Brendan's gaze intently.

Brendan's movements increase, and a small sigh is released from Walker.

"You like that?"

Walker's face creases in desire.

"I said, do you like that?"

"I love it," he breathes, massaging Brendan's back.

"Good." Brendan kisses him along his jaw, burying himself further inside of him, balls deep.

Brendan can smell the saltiness of the sea, but Simon tastes sweet.

Their bodies are wet from the water and their sweat, but the friction spikes their arousal further, until Walker is begging him to hold nothing back.

"I want to touch myself." Walker's cock feels like it's bursting, and he needs to finish this.

"Do it."

Walker wraps a hand around himself, stroking frantically as Brendan pounds into the wonderful heat of the man. Brendan feels his internal muscles contract, and when they come it is together, holding each other closely in the comedown.

It is growing darker and colder, but they feel warm against each other, listening to the sound of the sea, and the calm it brings.