Chapter Seven
Ste stared up at the deli, his deli, and frowned deeply. He had worked so hard to get here; to own his own business, to be independent. Now that he had it however, it felt completely irrelevant without someone to share it with. For the past few months, nearing on a year, Ste had been living in an almost limbo state. He went out some nights, got drunk, hooked up with a random guy who couldn't really give him what he needed, then left while he slept, not bothering to leave his number.
He saw his kids as often as Amy allowed but even that wasn't enough. It felt as though he was a passer-by in their lives; not something regular and concrete. Leah would ask after Brendan often, would draw him pictures to cheer him up, she would say, wherever he was. Amy had been reluctant to tell the kids of Brendan's whereabouts but she hadn't been around when Brendan had grown close to them. Leah especially needed answers; if nothing else to wonder why her daddy was always so sad these days.
Eventually, Ste decided on telling them that Brendan was tucked away somewhere with other men who needed… help. Leah had asked why in an indignant sort of way, had told Ste sternly that Brendan may get angry sometimes but there was nothing wrong with him. Ste had smiled at that, had assured her that Brendan was sad and needed to get better. Leah had been confused, had wondered why Ste wasn't there with him because he was sad too. Ste wondered that himself often enough but he already felt Amy's severe gaze on him, waiting for him to do something foolish and get himself banged up with Brendan.
It wouldn't help, he told himself, but boy did he try.
He wasn't stupid, and he certainly wouldn't deprive his kids of a father but he often imagined the different ways he could get sent inside for petty crimes, maybe just for a short stretch, a month or two. Brendan had a life imprisonment, as far as Ste was aware, and he hated prison. He needed Ste, just like he always had. Ste couldn't bear the thought of him being alone. He didn't much like being alone himself.
Eventually however, the idea departed him. He grew angry and resentful, wondering how he could live every day of his life without him there, and hating himself that it was so necessary to have him there in the first place. Ste hated the fact that he was so dependent on Brendan for his state of mind. Throughout their tumultuous relationship he had acknowledged many a time how unhealthy they were for each other and yet even when he had hated him, it had felt good to have him nearby. In a strange way it was comforting, as well as confusing.
He grew tired of the one-night stands and spent more evenings alone, drinking and trying to block everything out. Amy grew more and more worried about him and yet still refused to bring the kids back. It wasn't good for them, she said, to see him like that. But why couldn't she see how desperately he needed them in his life? They were everything; they always had been.
The deli was the last thing besides his grotty flat that he could call his own, but even that he had to share. He knew it was unreasonable and selfish but he grew ever resentful of Doug being around. He kept trying to talk to Ste, to make him see sense over his behaviour. He was trying to be a good friend, Ste knew that, but it was all so suffocating and he could hardly bear it.
Doug dated that McQueen for a while and that riled Ste up even more. Not for the fact they were dating, but that John Paul was always around, reminding him that sometimes he wasn't enough for Brendan, that sometimes a casual shag was preferable to being with Ste. In turn it reminded him that Brendan wasn't here, that he'd left him, and that was enough to drive Ste mad.
He knew it was stupid but one evening as he gazed up at the deli, anger and fear burning inside of him at every moment, he decided to do something reckless, something he hadn't done since he was a teenager. He stole some cigarettes from Price Slice, deciding that he could pay for them in the morning if he was still conscious and armed with a bottle of vodka as well, set himself up in the deli and drank and smoked himself into a stupor.
It wasn't enough though and Ste found himself doing some cooking, cigarette poking out of the corner of his mouth as he baked. Cooking had soothed him once but now all it reminded him of was that night with Brendan when he'd made the dough ring to propose. It was almost possible now for that to be a reality; he and Doug had mutually decided to file for divorce some time ago, and soon enough he would be free once more, not that it really made much difference.
At some point he gave up on the cooking and continued smoking and drinking. He was slumped against the far wall, facing the oven. He dropped his half lit cigarette to the floor, lighting another rather than reaching across to grab it. Little did he realise that the oven was still on and slightly ajar, gas streaming out colourless and invisible. They'd had some trouble with it for some time and Doug was in the process of getting it fixed. It was a moot point.
Ste didn't really remember the blast, or that the force had knocked him flying to the side, his head and back crashing with the adjacent wall. He didn't remember the roaring flames surrounding him, or the smoke alarm beeping feebly above him. He didn't even remember being rescued by the firemen, or how he was loaded into an ambulance.
Once again he was alone. Doug didn't hear about the fire until a few hours later. No one special had rescued Ste from the blaze, no one visited him in hospital for days. They had deemed it an accident, a gas leak. But Doug suspected Ste's involvement from the start and it led to several heated arguments between them; eventually resulting in a break from their tenuous partnership. Amy had brought the kids to visit a few times but it was all too upsetting for them.
Ste wondered idly if someone would tell Brendan, if he would finally agree to see him. No such information reached him. A week after the fire and Ste was all alone, holed up in a ward with an aching back, still sensitive from his accident the year before, and a pounding headache. He began to wonder if this would be his life from now on: just him.
And that was the moment Samuel Spencer came into his life and somehow made everything much better.
Xxx
Brendan awoke that morning as though pulled from a very deep sleep. It was the first time in years that he had slept throughout the night and it took his mind and body a while to adjust to the restful feeling that overcame him.
Steven was still sound asleep and tucked up against Brendan's side, the slanting sunlight across his face, lighting up his beautiful features. His eyelashes were still impossibly long and made Brendan ache in a new way for the years lost. The faint lines he saw on Steven's face hadn't been there before. He kissed each one, savouring the passing of time and hoping that he would never be parted from him again.
He daren't move to sit up, lest he disturb the sleeping man. Steven seemed to be in a deep slumber and Brendan hoped he had slept that way all night and that the nightmares he'd been told of hadn't occurred. It was all so infinitely precious and Brendan was scared to break the spell over them. It was only when he heard a faint buzzing sound from the living room that Steven stirred, eyes opening slowly and blinking at the blinding light.
"Is that my phone?" He asked groggily, voice slurred with sleep.
"Think so." Brendan whispered back.
Steven glanced up at him in surprise, as though forgetful of the fact Brendan was really here.
"You." He said wonderingly.
"Me." Brendan agreed, slight curve to his lips. "Ye okay?"
"God, yes." Steven murmured, and stretched himself out like a cat. "Best night's sleep in ages, that."
"Same." Brendan said mildly. "Is that the only reason?"
Steven glanced up at him and it was startling how much it reminded Brendan of that first night together. The lines Brendan had seen previously were no longer visible, except the smile lines Steven wore now; but they were a much more welcome sight.
"Fishing for compliments are we?" He teased, showing his teeth.
"Maybe, it's been a while." Brendan admitted.
Steven turned his head a little, hiding his face.
"Hey," Brendan said softly, stroking his chin. "What did I say?"
"Nothing." Steven said, but there was obviously something bothering him. "I'd better check my phone."
He carefully extricated himself from the bed and Brendan's arms, glancing back sheepishly to smooth his t-shirt down before he padded out of the room. Brendan felt the loss of him like a cold gust of air. He followed him after a beat, walking towards the kitchen to switch the kettle on while Steven checked his phone.
"Mitzeee." He told Brendan. "She covered for me with dad, said I fell asleep at hers."
"Good girl." Brendan murmured, but something nagged at him. "Shouldn't we tell him though?"
"Tell him what?" Steven asked, confused.
"About me."
Something flashed across Steven's face, something unmistakeably like fear.
"Yeah, maybe." He said airily, turning away.
Brendan sensed the brush off but didn't push it, not now he finally had Steven back.
"I'll make us some breakfast." He offered.
"You?" Steven asked, his tone lighter. Brendan felt himself relax as a result.
"Did a few classes inside, thought I'd impress ye."
"So you knew you'd be back?" Steven asked, coming into the kitchen now and leaning against one of the cabinets.
"I always hoped to, but I never knew for sure. I got seven years initially."
"How did you get out so quick?" Steven asked curiously.
"Good behaviour, if ye would believe it. Rehabilitation classes, counselling. I did it all."
"And it helped?" Steven looked interested.
"In its way. Ye know me, Steven; I tend to sort things out on my own terms."
Steven nodded, absently scratching the back of his neck. "You're here now anyway, that's what counts."
"Right." Brendan agreed. There would be plenty of time for catch up sessions later. Brendan wanted to feed them; Steven especially looked like he needed a good meal.
"Egg on toast do ye?"
Steven nodded, drifting around the room as though he needed something to occupy himself while Brendan cooked.
Brendan turned a little, watching him out of the corner of his eye. He wanted him to talk in that incessant way he used to. He remembered how calming it was and how much he had missed it. But Steven seemed distracted and on edge. Brendan turned the gas off and moved towards him, placing a gentle hand on Steven's arm to gain his attention. Steven jumped at the contact.
"Hey," Brendan said softly. "Sorry."
"S'okay." Steven said mildly, attempting a smile.
"What's wrong?" Brendan asked, frowning.
"Nothing." Steven answered quietly, but he wouldn't look Brendan in the eye.
"Tell me." Brendan said, persistent as ever. He didn't like the idea of Steven being secretive with him. It was an old habit but he had to know everything, more than ever now he had missed so much.
Steven sighed, rocking backwards on his heels. "It's my dad." He said so softly Brendan almost didn't hear him.
"What about him?" Brendan tensed immediately.
"Don't panic." Steven said quickly, sensing the change in Brendan. "He's fine, I'm fine."
"But?" Brendan pressed, still wary.
"I don't know how he's going to react." Steven said slowly, eyes wide.
"To…" Brendan trailed off, prompting him to continue.
"You." Steven said, eyes darting away guiltily from Brendan's face.
"Oh." Brendan's earlier assessment of Steven's reaction regarding his dad had been correct.
Steven stepped forwards, hands outstretched. "I'm not saying I won't tell him, of course not."
"He knows ye are gay?"
Steven nodded. "But he's dead protective of me. I haven't really been with anyone for a-" He cut himself off, apologetic.
"There's been others, since me." Brendan said, his voice flat.
"Nothing serious, ever. Just…" Steven bit his lip, uncomfortable.
Brendan bristled and turned away, not wanting Steven to see his face.
"You wanted me to move on." Steven said, almost accusingly.
"I know." Brendan replied, trying to keep the possessive edge out of his voice. "It's okay, of course it is."
"But it's not." Steven said quietly. "I've upset you."
"Steven," Brendan turned then, smoothing out his features. "Ye had every right to do that. Ye thought I was gone for good."
"And you wouldn't let me see you." Steven added, raising his eyebrows pointedly.
"Ye know I had my reasons." Brendan said quietly.
"But you never…" Steven trailed off, his arms raising in annoyance before he lowered them, catching himself. "You never think how I might feel about it."
"Of course I do." Brendan said, surprised. "I always think about ye, always."
"That's not what I meant." Steven said, frowning. "You think you know what's best for me but you don't."
"All I know is I'm not what's best for ye." Brendan said, sadness colouring his voice.
"Tough." Steven said, crossing his arms.
"Why do ye have to be so stubborn?" Brendan asked, exasperated.
"Why do you?" Steven bit back, but then he laughed. "I've really missed you."
Brendan found himself smiling. "Come here."
"Why don't you come here?" Steven suggested teasingly.
Brendan cocked an eyebrow. "Is that how ye want it, eh?"
"Maybe." Steven said, playful edge to his voice.
Brendan took a step forwards, prompting Steven to take one back.
"Ye know I can catch ye before ye run."
"I dunno, I'm pretty quick."
"Wanna bet?"
"What's the bet?" Steven asked confidently.
Brendan considered this. "If I catch ye…"
"Yeah?" Steven had one leg behind him, poised to run when necessary.
"I want ye to tell me something."
Steven frowned then. "What is it though?"
"Ah, now that would be telling."
Steven pursed his lips, deliberating. "Deal." He said eventually.
"And if I don't catch ye…" Brendan began, lips twitching in amusement. "But I will anyway so."
"If you don't, you have to tell me something."
"Deal." Brendan said. Before he had the chance to collect himself, Steven was off. He darted towards the sofa, placing it between himself and Brendan. "Not fair." Brendan murmured, moving closer.
Steven grinned wickedly, making a sudden dash down the hall. Brendan pursued him effortlessly, pausing in the middle of his stride to listen out for what room Steven had hidden in. It wasn't difficult to work out. Brendan crept quietly into the bedroom, lunging across the bed to grab Steven from behind. His hands clutched at empty air however. Steven sniggered from behind him, darting once more out of sight.
Brendan laughed freely as he chased after him. He had almost forgotten how wonderful it felt to be happy again.
Eventually he caught up with him, trapping him in the bathroom. He grasped his waist and pulled him towards him, Steven grinning from ear to ear.
"You've caught me." He said softly, eyes dancing in amusement.
"I ain't letting go." Brendan replied, completely serious.
Steven's smile faded a little. "What was your question then?"
Brendan brushed his hand gently over his face. "Tell me about the fire, and yer dad."
"That's two things." Steven said shakily.
"I know, but I need to know." Brendan said steadily.
Steven nodded, a little unsure of himself. "Okay."