Thanks for reviewing.
Sorry it's taken so long to update. I learnt a valuable lesson: never ever leave a sex scene mid way because I will put off writing it until I make myself. That was the dely. I've been avoiding it.
He rises up, arching through his spine against the pressure on his wrists to kiss him hooking his leg around his waist, pulling him down onto him. Brendan's shirt buttons catch on his chest, press into his skin, he pushes against Brendan hands, the pressure relents, he throws his t-shirt to the floor and shoves at Brendan's shoulder to get a little room, enough to get his fingers on those buttons. Brendan's seen him in barely anything, little shorts that hide almost nothing while he's been strutting around in his suits… The more his fingers reveal the stronger the urge to rip the shirt, get it off, out of the way. It feels like it takes an age to get to that last button, to push it aside. He pulls his mouth away from Brendan's lips and drags a kiss across his jaw down his neck, stubble burning his cheek while his hands map Brendan's torso. Learning him as he dragged his fingers over his skin, trying to find all those places that gave him pleasure, where he likes to be touched.
Brendan grips his thigh tight and pulls him up until he's astride him and clutches his arse smiling against his lips before claiming them and he battles straight back getting his hands under the shirt and digging his nails into Brendan back. Brendan growls biting at his jaw as he tries to get his jeans down he moves his hands off Brendan's neck and slides them down between them to undo the button.
"Get them off."
No finesse, no teasing he drops his jeans and boxers at the same time to the floor while Brendan takes care of his own clothes, stands… He's never seen anything he's wanted more. Defined lines of muscle, lean, the chest hair, treasure trail, the startling contrasts, the tattoo's, black ink on pale skin… The way he looks at him, blown pupils full of want.
There's nothing like being a person's focus. Nothing felt quite like Brendan's attention. The intensity of it. No one's ever looked at him like he does, he's almost overawed with it.
Brendan pushes him into the cushions, he falls easily doesn't even have time to bounce before Brendan's on top of him. Between his thighs. He shifts his hips, thrusts up as Brendan grinds their dicks together, pre-come slicking the way. He pants into his mouth as their lips drag over one another, Brendan pushes his fingers between them encourages him to take them in his mouth. He sucks on them, hollowing his cheeks then laves his tongue over them.
Brendan withdraws them, groaning as his tongue replaces them.
At the first brush against his hole he rolls his hips up higher presses his heel into Brendan's spine, slipping against the sweat on his skin.
Brendan looks into his eyes as he presses in, brief kisses feather light against his lips. The electricity jolts through his body and he moans long and hard as Brendan finds his prostate and circles it then adds another finger, stretching.
"Come on, come on." He groans, jerking up.
Brendan reaches over the side pulling a condom and a little sachet of lube out of one of his pockets. Quickly ripping the packet, putting it on and drizzling the lube. He watches memorized by the sight of him. Stroking himself, looking at him, he gets his elbows under himself, sits up and takes him in hand. Brendan closes his eyes and hisses out a breath as he works him firmly.
Raking his fingers through the hair on his chest with his other hand, looking up at him with hooded eyes and seeing the lust flare in his eyes and he pulls him forward until he's straddling him again. He positions himself, presses the head against his hole.
It's been a while and Brendan's bigger than he's taken before, the excitement rises in his gut, the nerves stutter to life then fall away as Brendan kisses him through the first long dragging thrust in.
His breath catches in his chest, faltering…
The fullness takes his breath away, to have him so deep inside him, the tiny little thrusts that Brendan can't stop even while he adjusts, kisses peppered against his collar bone and neck, hands sweeping his back.
He uses Brendan's shoulders for balance as he rises up then slides back down.
Feeling it so deep. Wanting it deeper. Needing more. To chase the high, the pleasure until it becomes single minded desperation. He rides him hard, finding a rhythm then losing it, the frustration is almost unbearable.
"Fuck. Ah fuck, please."
Brendan lifts and turns them, lifting his legs up on to his shoulders. The change of angle. The increase in speed has the pleasure rising, rising. Brendan wraps his hand around his cock and matches the pace of his thrusts then increases it until it's too much and he loses himself in it. The way Brendan is digging his fingers into his bare flesh, like he's trying to get into his skin, like close isn't close enough. Like there's no such thing. Even buried to the hilt isn't enough.
He cries out as he spills over Brendan's hand, organism rushes over him Brendan moves forward folding him as he goes, panting into the side of his cheek as his thrusts lose all rhythm, groaning into his ear as he comes.
He hisses as Brendan withdraws and lets his legs down, kissing him once the condom is dealt with. Slow and lazy roll of tongues and lips.
He could stay like that for days, kissing Brendan letting his fingers catch in his hair, smooth over shoulders, get lost in the contours and contrasts…
He jumps at the thud against the door. Three thuds that sound like the side of a fist rather than the wrap of knuckles.
"Brendan?" Brendan teases against him and swears. Simon.
"Shit." His brain catches up with him. He'd… Brendan… He remembers why this was wrong. Brendan and Simon. "Oh god…"
"Brendan?" Another three thuds.
"Get dressed." Brendan sighs. "Doesn't sound like he's going anywhere." As soon as Brendan's weights off him he rushes to pick his clothes off the floor and get them back on. Brendan doesn't rush, takes his time, pulls on his trousers on and dangles his shirt around his shoulder but doesn't button it up as he goes to the door. He tries to straighten himself out make it look less like he was as fucked as he felt. He tries to flatten his hair out but it's stuck out at all angles and the gels come out.
"Christ how long does it take you to open a fucking door?" He hears Simon ask before Tom is pushed through the doorway.
There's blood dripping down from what looks like a broken nose, a cut on his cheek, his clothes are dirty, a mix of blood and mud. He stops just in front of Brendan. Arm tight into his ribs.
"Danny's boys gave him a beating." Simon steps inside. "Seems he owes Danny money."
"Why did you bring him here?" Brendan starts buttoning his shirt.
"Thought you wanted to see him." Simon replies.
He catches the exact moment that Simon seems him. The change in stance. The slight widening of eyes. He looks away.
"I better go." He doesn't want anything to do with the fall out. Coward or just plain looking out for his own survival he's not bothered which, but he needs to go.
"You need a lift?" Brendan scratches the back of his head.
"No… I'll get the bus." He picks his bag up and steps around Tom and Simon as he hurries to the door.
"Steven..."
"I'll see you."
Oh Christ what was he thinking? He wasn't thinking and that was the problem again. There's just something about Brendan which turns his brain to useless mush, lets his desire run wild. He hadn't even thought about Simon.
There's no way he doesn't know what happened. Brendan all shirtless when he opened the door… Why couldn't he have just buttoned it up? Then it wouldn't have looked so obvious.
Although as he catches sight of himself in a house window, the state he's in… It was obvious. There was a patch of stubble burn on his neck, rubbed raw as he touches it the salt from his fingers makes it sting.
The smell of the living room, there would be no mistaking it.
He's surprised Simon didn't stop him leaving or punch him. But then he has no idea about their relationship, it could be open for all he knows. Maybe they don't consider it cheating on each other… He doesn't know and he doesn't want to know.
Brendan was off limits and he knew that and he'd still started it…
"Can you work tonight or not?" Mitzeee asks, irritated. He doesn't blame her. He's cried off the last three nights. "Ste if you want to quit early I'm not going to be pissed off, this messing around is what doing that."
He looks at the bills on the fridge, the presents already wrapped and under the tree. He still has the fifteen hundred from Jerome but that's not going to last. They'll be broke again if he doesn't go and do at least another two weeks at the club. The drawing next to the bills reminding him that his children don't deserve to suffer because he made another mistake.
He sucks in a breath and blows it out.
"I'll be in tonight."
It's the not knowing what to expect that has him walking around the block an hour before he's meant to start. Time he would usually spend in the dressing room relaxing but instead he walks around and wonders if Walker's going to hit him as he walks through the door or wait until the end of the shift. Leave him hanging, watching his back before he gives him what he deserves for sleeping with his boyfriend.
He's always had a massive streak of self-preservation in him. His childhood had seen to that, his adolescence only seemed to make it all the more obvious.
He gives himself until ten to, barely enough time to get ready, he can't afford to be late. Missing for three shifts and then late on his return… He can't see it going down well.
He can barely summon a smile for Brad as he passes. The wall of noise thuds into him, he keeps his head firmly down as he enters the dressing room sparing a glance towards Simon's seat but he's not there and he relaxes a fraction before the frustration bubbles. He'd rather get it over with.
He's done wrong. He deserves what he gets because he's not sorry. He won't even be able to promise Simon that he won't do it again. If Brendan kissed him again he knows that he wouldn't be able to resist kissing him back and he knows he wouldn't stop there. It had been good, better than good, better than he'd had with anyone before but it's how much better it could be that has his mind stuck and his imagination running wild.
He has one dance on stage. One dance with Dodger. He can see where Simon's name's been crossed off and his added.
He sleeps with his boyfriend and now he's stealing stage time… He should just cut the fuel line on his motorbike. Top it off.
"Ste." Gary calls him through onto the floor.
He looks for Simon as he walks towards the bar, glances up to the office and sees him with Brendan leaning on the railing. He bumps into a chair not watching where he's going. His eyes are drawn back to them, to Brendan who stares straight back, looking through him.
"Ste you working or you standing there all night? Table two." Gary states.
He swallows. He doesn't want to be here, he wants to run straight back into the dressing room grab his bag and go. He doesn't want to see them together, the jealousy that had flittered and fired returns with a vengeance and knowing that he has no right at all to be makes it worse.
"Ste move your arse."
He can't dance properly, can't give his attention to the man in front of him because it's on the other side of the room.
"What's wrong with you tonight?" Mitzeee demands cornering him in the corridor.
"Nothing." He goes to get away and she grabs his arm, he shrugs her off.
"Get your head out of the clouds and back in the game or I'll send you home."
It's on the tip of his tongue to beg her to but his pride flares. He's not being sent home. He can do his job, he can provide for his children and put his mess of a personal life aside.
He runs his hands over Dodger's chest, put everything into his movements, every ounce of frustration into his hips, reveals in the attention from the crowd in the room acts like Dodger is everything he wants and loses himself in the bass, rises and falls with the music.
"Fuck I'm straight and you gave me a semi." Dodger smiles as they head back through the curtain.
Brendan is stood against the wall, arms crossed.
He swallows hard.
"Steven a word."
"I've got to…" Be anywhere but right here.
"I'm your boss you'll do as I say." Brendan demands and it sets him off. He hates being talked to like that.
"Or what?" He demands and steps forward before he can stop himself. The frustration, guilt of their situation has him on edge enough that the filter on his mouth disappears.
"Office now. Move." Brendan grabs his arm and shoves him in front of him. He goes to give him a mouthful but Brendan cuts him off with a growl. "Move."
As soon as he's got the door open Brendan pushes him inside.
"Just because I've had my dick in you doesn't mean you can talk to me like that."
"That it? That all you've got say?" He goes for the door.
Brendan frowns and looks him over and he wishes he could gauge his eyes out for the way it flares in his guts. He shouldn't be looking at him like that.
"This is why I don't fuck people that work for me." Brendan mutters.
"Really?" He laughs bitter.
"Especially not gobby little fuckers who throw shit fits. In this club I am your boss Steven, when I tell you to do something I expect you to do it."
"Anything else?"
Brendan narrows his eyes at him.
"Can I go oh lord and master?"
"You better watch your mouth."
"Oh yeah?"
"I hear anything about what happened between me and you from anyone, that's it you're done here."
"Because I'm going to be shouting it from the roof tops?"
"It stays between us do you understand me?"
"And Simon."
"What I do outside of this club is none of Walker's business and he knows that."
"Didn't think he'd go for that." He wouldn't but then he's not Simon. He doesn't get to be anything but a mistake.
"Point is that what happened doesn't change anything in this club. You get no favours, there's no blackmail."
"Blackmail?"
"I won't be held to ransom by some cocky little prick demanding things from me because I gave you what you wanted."
"What I wanted?"
"Don't be one of those."
"Be one of what?"
"Don't turn around and say you didn't want it after the fact because things aren't going your way."
"It was sex that's it. I wanted it but you did to so don't you go throwing that at me. I don't expect anything off you, I don't even want anything off you. As far as I'm concerned I wished it never happened I just want to put it behind me and get on with my job if that's alright with you, boss?"
"Fine if that's the way you want it." Brendan unscrews the bottle of whiskey on his desk. "As your boss you go out there and you get your head back on making me money."
"I could make you more money if you let me in the back rooms."
"If that's what you want."
"If that's… You were the one that barred me."
"Consider it lifted. You want to go into the back and get groped that's up to you."
"It wasn't a couple of weeks ago, or even in summer…"
"Times change... Now get out."
"Yes boss." He seethes all the way back to the dressing room. Fucking prick. Thinking he was going to be using sleeping together as a way of blackmailing him. He knew Brendan had a low opinion of him he hadn't realised it was that bad.
He goes back out onto the floor still with simmering anger that he puts to good use, using dancing as a way to get it out of his system. He's more aggressive in his touch, more forceful with his hips and most of the men appreciate it, a few regulars are taken aback. Sweet and innocent was what they wanted. Bitter and shameless is what they got.
Brendan hands him his money with a slur on his tongue and a glaze to his eyes.
"I'd love to know what's going on with the boss." Doug says as he drinks his coffee. Working the day shift perks, being able to go out for late lunch rather than being stuck in the club.
He shrugs. Brendan's being tearing into everyone and some of them, like Doug are taking it to heart. He doesn't. Brendan can say what he likes to him it's water off a ducks back now. He isn't even rising to it however had he finds it he's holding his tongue, usually by biting it and digging his nails into his palms.
"Properly had a fight with Simon." He adds another sugar to his coffee.
"Simon?"
"You know since they're together."
"Since when?"
"You told me they were together."
"Oh that. Yeah totally wrong. Simon's bike was off the road and Brendan was giving him a lift home after work."
"You said…" He gets that sinking dread feeling that he's gotten not only the wrong end of the stick, but the wrong stick.
"You know what the rumour mills like… You and me were fucking for ages apparently."
He stares at Doug.
"I mean I would have liked that to be true… You do know that don't you…"
He drops his head onto his arms and groans.
"Hey I'm not so bad you know." Doug rattles on and on. "There's worse on offer than me and we make a good team out on stage…"
He scrubs his face.
"I've got to go."
"Go?"
"Yeah… I…"
"I shouldn't have said anything." Doug sighs.
"It's…" He takes a moment from his whirling mind the cogs twisting at how it all went so wrong.
He doesn't know what to do. Apologise to Brendan, for what? For thinking he was sleeping with Simon when he wasn't. For thinking he was with someone when he wasn't. For believing what they had done was wrong morally even if it didn't feel it? For arguing with him? They weren't even arguing about the same thing and still Brendan made it clear exactly what he thought of him or how little he thought of him. What did it even matter?
"Cheer up might never happen." Jack states as he walks into the dressing room and drops his bag down.
He hadn't gone home, he was already on thin ice with Brendan, with Mitzeee he went home and there was every chance that he was getting fired and then what was he going to do when he went back to college and the bills kept rolling in.
He'd already arranged to have Christmas eve, day and boxing day off. They were brilliant paying days but nothing could keep him away from watching Leah and Lucas playing with their new toys. Wrapping paper spread from one side of the room to the other. Amy insisting that he left the Turkey to her even if he did sneak a bit extra rosemary into the stuffing while she wasn't looking.
He lies back and relaxes, enjoys playing with his kids and being a part of a family. He tries to keep busy, keep his mind off the mess he was in.
He keeps his head down, his mouth in check, he keeps the customers happy when he returns to the grind.
"When Ethan knocks, calls time, that's time." And Brendan still tears into him every night for nothing, seems to get even angrier when he doesn't fight back, doesn't give him any lip.
He manages to avoid him most of the time, deals with Mitzeee when ever possible sometimes it's unavoidable and then it hits him how much he missed talking to him, joking, flirting even when Brendan walked away mid-flow.
"Give me a ring if you're looking for something over the summer." Mitzeee states handing him his last night's pay.
"Didn't think I'd be welcome."
"You haven't been up to your usual standards but I'm always keen to have you back."
"I'll let you know."
One more after this.