It felt so natural, being together like this. Even in the way they moved; legs wrapped around tightly and lips pressed against skin and fingers tangled in one anothers till the sweat was covering them head to toe. Their bodies interlocked and moving rhythmically… instinctively. Stephen's pants were building up; his breath against Brendan's neck. His arms were clasped around Brendan's body; his nails digging tightly to the skin of Brendan's back. His legs were wrapped tightly around too; pulling Brendan closer and closer in. He bit down on his lip tightly to stop the moans coming out too loud.

"Come 'ere." Brendan heard himself pant, as he buried his lips into the small of Stephen's neck, drowning out the sounds of his own increasing gasps for breath. He'd missed this. Christ, he'd missed this so fucking much. Being inside Stephen, wrapped around him, surrounding him, absorbed in him. He missed Stephen's loud heated gasps as he built up to climax and his bright-eyed smile afterwards. He'd missed the way Stephen plastered his own body against Brendan's own once they'd come down from their respective orgasms, regardless of how hot or sticky he was, he'd nestle in close. Even if Brendan pushed him over, feeling too claustrophobic, Stephen would still somehow nuzzle his way back into Brendan's arms during his sleep.

"Ahh, shit…" Stephen hissed as he arched his back off the mattress, stretching his chest to meet Brendan's, draw him closer inside. They thrust against each other, the friction building as Brendan frantically pounded into him, pushing him towards climax. "Fffff… shit shit shit…"

"Come on," Brendan grunted through gritted teeth, building the speed faster and faster until Stephen was positively squirming with need underneath him. He pressed his sweat-soaked forehead against Stephen's and let Stephen's lustful whimpers caress his eardrums. "C'mon, c'mon."

Brendan pumped his hand on Stephen's cock; taking over the job Stephen's own fingers were currently unable to manoeuvre. It only took a couple more thrusts before Stephen cried out beneath him, climaxing; his own hands ever-faithfully clutching with frantic need to the flesh of Brendan's neck. Brendan only thrust a couple more times before a heated moan escaped his own lips. He pushed himself feverishly into Stephen's welcoming body and pushed his mouth against Stephen's own, wrapping his tongue around Stephen's to muffle the sounds of their intense comedown.

They lay there for some time, soaked in sweat and come and silence, listening to nothing but their own hammering hearts and heavy breathing. As usual, Stephen was the first to break the tranquillity.

"Bren?"

"Mmhm?"

"Wha' time is it?"

With all the remaining energy in his body, Brendan groaned and lifted his arm to check his watch. 2:35pm. Which meant Rodger would be here soon. Which meant Stephen would get out of bed, get cleaned, get dressed. He would probably need help doing that, which would require Brendan to drag himself up as well. And then he'd let Rodger invade their sanctuary, and probably greet him with that massive wide-eyed grin which should be reserved for Brendan and Brendan only.

"We've got loadsa time." Brendan mumbled.

"Why? What time is it?"

"What, ye don't trust me?"

"I just wanna know the time." Stephen muttered drowsily, prodding Brendan in the chest in an annoyingly childlike manor (something he'd started to exercise in order to infuriate Brendan into submission.)

"It's 1:30." Brendan lied. "Jus' get some sleep or somethin'."

The room went quiet for a moment and Brendan felt sure he'd fooled him. But then Stephen started to fidget against the side of him; restless, unsure.

"Are you sure, Bren? S'not 2:30?"

"I just said, didn't I? I'm tryin' to sleep, Stephen."

Eventually Stephen sighed, and collapsed back against Brendan's body; fatigue getting the better of him. Whether he was fully convinced, Brendan didn't know, but all that mattered at this point was he clearly didn't care, and within a good five minutes Stephen's breaths turned deep and slow. He was asleep.

So when the knock at the door came at 3:00 exactly, it was all too easy for Brendan to ignore it. After a good minute, Rodger knocked again, louder. Brendan looked cautiously to Stephen… he was asleep, deeply, but it might not take much more to stir him. Rodger knocked again; Christ, he was persistent.

Brendan heaved himself out of the bed, shoving on some jeans and a shirt, which he didn't have time to button, before marching towards the front door.

He hoisted it open.

"What?"

Rodger's face was infuriatingly impartial. His square glasses framed his relatively young-looking face to even out the freshness with an air of distinction. He gave Brendan a short patient smile.

"Afternoon Mr Brady. I'm here for Ste's appointment."

"Yeah, about that. Change of plan." Brendan breezed noncommittally. His voice held the air of casual impatience, but he fixed Rodger with a stare that kept this serious and promised aggression should it be called for.

"Oh. When I spoke to Ste yesterday he said…"

"Like I said. Change - of - plan."

Rodger seemed to review this for a moment. And then sighed. Christ, what was this guys problem? Was it in his job description to be an annoying persistent little shit?

"Mr Brady, it's very important that Ste makes his physiotherapy appointments. If not it could really stall his progress. And nobody wants that, do they?"

"Preachin' to the choir, mate. Ye think I wanna be waitin' on him hand and foot day in day out?"

"Well then…"

"Thing is he'd rather be out with his ex right now, apparently."

"He's not home?"

"No, he's not."

Rodger sighed, frustration and impatience breaking through his façade for the first time.

"Right, well if that's all." Brendan snapped, and began to push the door shut.

"Wait, hold on!"

Brendan let out an inward sigh. If he hung about here any longer he'd risk Stephen catching him in the act, and that would just be awkward.

"Wha'?"

"Tell Ste to call me, alright?" Rodger said plainly. "Really, it's crucial he attends these sessions. And if he's okay going out now, well then maybe we can arrange for him to visit the hospital later today, yeah?"

"I'll tell him."

"Okay. Thank you."

"Bye bye." Brendan muttered dryly, again pushing the door shut.

"And the next time he wants to cancel, try and make sure I'm pre-warned if that's o…"

SLAM.

Brendan slumped down onto the sofa, switching on the TV and channel surfing for something half decent. He lazily set about doing up the buttons on his shirt, letting his mind wander as he did so to the incredible session of uninterrupted sex they'd just embarked upon. Fuck, he wanted more. He wanted it all the time, and with Stephen that felt like a perfectly feasible conquest. He had to restrain himself from marching back into that bedroom now and shaking him awake.

Even more worryingly… he had to restrain himself from going in there just to watch him sleep. Fuck. Had he really gotten that soft? He found it best not to dwell on those sorts of things.

He found it best not to dwell over the fact he couldn't stand Stephen talking to a physiotherapist, just because it meant for that short hour, Rodger would be more important to Stephen's health and safety than he was. He found it best not to dwell over the fact he had been watching Stephen like a hawk over the last two weeks, cautious to the point of obsessive over every step Stephen took towards recovery, because recovery would mean independence… and Brendan didn't feel prepared to give him that. Not yet.

The truth was, this is something Brendan had wanted for a long time: Stephen all to himself. Stephen had got what he wanted too: a "boyfriend" or whatever he wanted to call it. They were both alright now, while they were here, within these walls. No twats trying to interfere in their life and no blokes moving in on Stephen, exploiting his good-nature and showing Brendan up as the fuck-up he really was.

Things were alright like this. Just sex and talk and the occasional argument, which Brendan didn't mind; he liked to fight things out as much as the next person, and he enjoyed that feisty side to Stephen. He didn't want anybody else to get a piece of that. Not anyone; not even Amy, not even Cheryl. Stephen was HIS.

And he tried not to dwell on the fact that he would do whatever it took to keep it that way. He tried not to think about the lengths he'd go to to keep Stephen close, because now he had it, he certainly wasn't letting it go. Ever.

"Brendan?"

Brendan turned. It was starting to get dark in the room… how long had he been lost in thought? Stephen looking at him from the kitchen, his expression dark and stony.

"You alright?" Brendan said, already pre-empting confrontation. "Sleep well?"

"Brendan, what time is it?"

"You tell me, you're the one holdin' the clock."

Stephen slammed the bedroom alarm clock down on the dining room table – hard.

"It's FIVE THIRTY!" He shouted.

"So?"

"So WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME? Where's Rodger?"

"Gone."

A thousand expressions passed Stephen's face all in the space of a second: anger, surprise, confusion, upset, fury… and then fierceness, as he spoke in a low and dangerous voice, "You better be jokin'."

"No. You were asleep, Stephen, so he left."

"WELL WHY DIDN'T YOU WAKE ME UP?"

"I didn't want to bother ye!"

"Oh please!"

"What?"

"Yeah right! I bet that's what you planned all along, innit? Just cos you don't want Rodger comin' round!"

"So set yer own fuckin' alarm Stephen; since when did I become your slave?"

"I…" Stephen spluttered, incredulous. "You SAID I could stay here so you could HELP!"

"And I am doin'!"

"That's not HELPIN' is it? That's the opposite of helpin'. I NEED HIM!"

"You don't need him."

"Brendan!" Stephen yelled out in fury. He was shaking. Christ, he really was getting worked up. Maybe Brendan had crossed the line this time. Stephen did seem pretty desperate to get his recovery moving along quickly. But all these doctors just wanted to make him dependent, the fuckers, when Stephen didn't realise he could do it on his own. They could do it together.

"GOD I just…" Stephen paced about, stressed, his teeth grit and fingers shaking, "I HATE you when you're like this."

"Bit over-dramatic, don't ye think?"

"NO!" He spat, fists clenched by his sides like he was having some adolescent tantrum. In fact, Brendan could have sworn he saw the beginning of tears in his eyes, but Stephen kept them valiantly from surfacing.

"Alright, look, it wont happen again, okay?" Brendan sighed, exasperated. "Come here."

"No."

"Christ, don't be such a baby Stephen."

"No, I'm goin' to Amy's."

"Fff… are you SERIOUS? This is a massive over-reaction!"

"No, I mean it, I am."

Stephen marched into the bedroom, and Brendan could hear the sounds of things being moved about frantically. He was serious. He was really pissed this time. So much for the mind-blowing round-two of sex Brendan had been planning.

"Stephen, come on." He sighed, following him into the bedroom.

But Stephen wasn't packing a bag as Brendan had imagined. Instead he was rummaging frenziedly through the drawers, his whole body physically shaking now. He was looking for the pills. The shit chemicals Stephen thought calmed him down. The ones the hospital used to sedate and control. Bullshit.

"Can you open that please?" Stephen snapped shortly, thrusting the tub of pills into Brendan's chest, but not stopping for a moment to look at him. THEN he started gathering together some clothes.

"You're not really goin' to Amy's? Cos I let you SLEEP IN?"

"You don't understand, do ya?" Ste cried out. "Brendan, I need to get better! I got kids I gotta look after, I got money I need to make! I can't… you can't…"

"Alright…" Brendan tried to soothe. It was a notion he was inexperienced in, and his words came out more impatient than he would have liked.

"NO, IT'S NOT ALRIGHT! I'm sick of… of you doin' stuff for me… of me not bein' able to do stuff myself! And I need Rodger to help me, Brendan, I don't CARE if you like him or not, he's here for ME and it's nothin' to do with YOU!"

"I said okay didn't I?"

"Whatever! Can you just give me them pills please?"

Brendan handed Ste the opened tub, and Ste necked two of them back immediately.

"Kay, can we just…" Ste took a deep breath, calming himself. "Can we please jus' go to Amy's, then we'll talk about it tomorrow."

"I'm not going to Amy's."

"Not comin' in, just walkin' there with me."

"What? You said you wanted to do stuff on your own, so do stuff on your own." Brendan spoke plainly.

He knew it was harsh. Stephen hadn't been to his own home since he got back from hospital, and things were still vague and hazy for him… it was unlikely he'd remember the way completely. Even if he did, Brendan knew he'd feel disorientated and intimidated in the open space alone. It was a temporary symptom of the brain damage that the doctors had warned them about.

But still. Too bad. Brendan didn't want him to go. So he wouldn't go. Brendan wouldn't lose him. Not over something so stupid and petty.

"Fine, I'll go on my own." Ste said. But his voice sounded small and unsure suddenly.

Now it was a battle of the wills; who would cave first?

Well it sure as hell wouldn't be Brendan.

And despite all his inhibitions SCREAMING at him not to let Stephen do it, he watched Stephen step out of the front door for the first time since arriving here. Stephen looked nervous – even slightly sick – but Brendan could tell he was trying to keep that fact hidden. He walked hesitantly down the steps, and Brendan stood at the top, arms folded, keeping up the façade of nonchalance.

He knew Stephen wouldn't get far.

He knew as soon as Stephen got to the bottom of the steps and realised he couldn't remember which way to go, he'd be straight back.

And he was right.

Stephen was back within seconds; his expression mortified, ashamed, hurt and angry. But Brendan wouldn't let that ruin the moment. Stephen needed him. Completely. He knew it.

"Come on." He said softly, wrapping his arm around Stephen's shoulders and guiding him back into the house. Back to where he belonged.

"You're an arsehole, you know." Stephen mumbled quietly. But his heart wasn't in it. He'd resigned to the fact he needed Brendan around. So much so that seconds later his arms wrapped tightly around Brendan's waist and he squeezed.

Brendan rested his chin on the top of Stephen's head. Status quo revived.

"It's alright, Stephen." He sighed. "You're better off here."