Thanks for reading. This is my first story but I hope you enjoy reading. This chapter is based around Brendans thoughts and feelings towards Ste but I'll do proper storylines in future chapters. I've read loads of great fan fics about Stendan and mine probably won't be as good, but I hope you like it anyway!
P.S please review, I'd appreciate any comments or critisism :)
Normal people love someone because they think they're perfect. They love them because they're kind or generous or amazing or whatever. I didn't love Steven because he was perfect. I didn't love him because he was kind. I didn't love him because he was caring or funny. I didn't love the person he showed the world; the kind-hearted, friendly mask he wore. I loved Steven because of who he was inside. His stubbornness and jealousy, his knowledge that he was going to get hurt but his refusal to care, his manipulative mind and violent temper, his endless supply of tears that should have ran out long ago, his many many scars, his memories of his past that haunted him everyday, the fact that he got a rush of doing things he shouldn't. I didn't love Ste because he was perfect. I loved him because he wasn't.
It had been 2 months since Ste and I had had that... misunderstanding that had lead to his unemployment. I probably overreacted a bit, well that was what I did best really, but Steven was pushing me. Thinking he could understand everything that went on in my head. No one can understand the things that go on in my head, not even young Steven. Though he is the only one that ever came close I suppose. So maybe I shouldn't of sacked Steven but then he had to push me again, didn't he? Had to see how far he could push me before I snapped. And snap I did. When I found out he had hid Declan from me, well, I couldn't help from punching him. He'd went too far, as usual. Sometimes I wonder if the lad's all there. I mean there's bravery and guts and then there's stupidity. I'm not sure which one he is. He always did manage to push my buttons and , no matter what it cost him, he would always manage to do it again and again. Testing my boundaries, seeing how far this game we play would go. And it was a game - to start with. A manipulative, endearing, purely physical game. A game made even better from the fact Steven used to be straight. The poor lad didn't know what hit him when I came along. I almost felt sorry for him. But I couldn't resist playing with him. He ticked all the boxes; young, small, attractive (very attractive to be honest) and he worked in the club so he was easily assessable. It was fun at first, watching him idolize me as we became "friends". Everything was going according to plan, right up until that first kiss. Ste decided to take control - something I hadn't expected. I reacted by sending him away, he had took me off guard at first but, after he'd left, I began to realize it may not have been so bad after all. At least I knew we were on the same page, so to speak - all that was left to do was reassert control and get on with the next step of the game; sex.
But I'd underestimated Steven - underestimated just how much I'd want him, underestimated just how much I'd want to posses him; heart, mind, body and soul. I was unprepared. Before I knew it I was knee deep in feelings I didn't understand with a man I didn't understand. Steven was a riddle alright. He was weak but could be strong. He was honest, an open book most of the time, but he could be manipulative. He was kind and loving but also violent and unpredictable. He could be jealous and cocky but he could be shy and vulnerable as well. He hated me sometimes but loved me always. And that was how we worked really, always dancing on that thin line between love and hate - seeing who would be the one to step too far out of line. When it was Steven who stepped out of line, I'd put him right with a punch or slap. If I stepped outta line he'd hurt me, maybe even more than I hurt him. When Ste was provoked enough, he could hurt me but not with his fists - no, it was his words that he used. He always managed to break through my walls and find my weaknesses - then he'd throw them back in my face. Manipulation. Ste wasn't strong enough to hurt me physically so he hurt me in any other way he could. And that's why we were so similar - him and me. Maybe even why we loved each other. It was certainly why things had ended up so out of hand. We were both survivors. Steven had been to Hell and back as a kid - just like me. He knew the score - just like me. People were useless, they never failed to let ya down. Even family. Especially family. If you ever relied on anyone, ever let yourself need them even for a second, everything would come crashing down. Steven knew this. That's why he wasn't like everyone else - surrounded by a load of people all the time. Even the few friends he had, he never let them close. Well, except maybe Amy. But I knew there was still a part of him that he never let her see. Never let anyone see - just like me.
Before I met Steven, I was bulletproof. Nothing to prove, nothing to lose and everything to gain. That's why I left Ireland, well partly why I left Ireland. My kids meant to much to me and that was deadly for a man like me - a man that plays dangerous games with dangerous people. Besides, they were better of without me - I'd only mess them up, make them like me. But Steven wasn't better off without me. He was already messed up and he was already like me. But whilst I'm around at least I can protect him - from everything, anything that might hurt him. Yes, I'd hurt him before but that was different. I wasn't using him. I even loved him. No one else could love him. Not in the same way I loved him. Our love was special - a bond built on control and manipulation; lust and passion; pain and anger; games and secrets. But most importantly an unquenchable need for one another that resulted in fierce loyalty and trust that could not be broken. He is mine, I am his. That loyalty was why I killed Danny; he threatened to hurt Steven and no one hurts Steven - except me. And that loyalty was the same reason Ste hadn't told the police about me (and believe me, he has a lot he could tell the police; murder, assault, drug dealing e.c.t). But no matter how much he hates me at the time, he wouldn't do that.
But everything had went too far. I'd hurt him too many times, lied to him too many times. I'd promised him the world and took it away in the blink of an eye. Steven had trusted me, needed me, loved me and I'd done what everyone else did: let him down. I hated myself for it but I didn't get a second chance. Not this time. Steven learnt quickly; trusting me had been a mistake that he'd soon rectified by shutting me out of his life just like he did with the rest of the world. I'd somehow managed to break that previously unbreakable bond we had shared. It's no wonder he hadn't visited me in prison. But that didn't mean it hadn't hurt when each day thoughts of him haunted me but I couldn't do a thing about it because he wouldn't come and see me. So I'd done what I always do when I feel hurt or scared or threatened - I shut down. So when I got out of prison, I pretended like me and Steven had never even happened. I pretended that I didn't need him; that I didn't want him; that I didn't love him. Though inside I felt like my heart was being sliced open. I knew I'd never move on, not really. I would never be able to let go of Steven completely, not in a million years. But I could occupy myself with a bunch of random blokes who, if not satisfied me, at least took my mind off of him for a while. That was the plan anyway. It wasn't working out though. There was one problem, no matter where I picked them up, no matter who they were or what they looked like, no matter where we went. Because they weren't him. They didn't have a scarred soul and stubborn mind. They couldn't make me smile or laugh by telling terrible jokes. They couldn't tell how I was feeling just by looking in my eyes. They couldn't understand what was going on in my head. They didn't know who I was, not really. They didn't have the ability to look me in the eyes and tell me they love me, even whilst I held them against a wall. They didn't understand the games I play. They couldn't set my skin on fire with the merest brush of their finger tips. Because they weren't him. There was only one person in the world who could do those things. Steven. And even after everything that happened, even if he hated me and I hated him. He'd always be mine. I'd always be his, even if I never admitted it aloud.
It hadn't taken long to get the guy to leave with me. As soon as I arrived, I could tell he fancied me. With little work I soon found myself in his house, pinning the guy, whose name I'd forgotten, against the wall while my tongue explored his mouth. The man was youngish, around 25 or so, with blond hair and a slight build. I should have been enjoying myself, I suppose. But I wasn't. Everything was wrong. He didn't kiss me like he kissed me. His hands were pressed against the wall instead of around my neck like he would have done. He scent was unfamiliar unlike the Lynx deodorant that he would have wore. He tasted like peppermint - that was nothing compared to the addicting taste that can only be described as pure Steven. I pulled away, trying to shake the delicious memories out of my head. I had been a fool, thinking I could forget about him by sleeping with some randomer. Kissing this guy had only highlighted his absence. I wanted to scream in frustration. The guy (Ben? James? I couldn't think of his name) had his hands around my waist now and was trying to pull me towards him again. Couldn't he tell I'd had enough?
"Get off." I told him, frustrated.
"Come on. You were up for it a minute ago." He smiled, still not removing his hands.
"Oi said get ya hands off meh." I growled, low and menacing.
"What's the problem?" He said, frowning. He finally let go of me.
"You are." I replied though it wasn't strictly true. The problem was me and the thoughts I couldn't get out of my head.
"What have I done? I thought you wanted this?"
"Oi did. And now oi don't." I snarled.
The poor bloke looked at me as if I was crazy - maybe I was, I wasn't sure anymore.
"So...what d'ya wanna do then?" He asked. In answer to his question, I grabbed my coat and left. After closing the door on a shocked looking guy, I walked down the unfamiliar street towards my car. The cool night air helped calm my frazzled nerves and gave me a chance to think. Is that what it would always be like? Me, obsessing over the past, never moving on. It was pathetic and I didn't do pathetic. I hated Steven for what he'd reduced me to. But I loved him because he could make me feel things no one else could.
By Rachey Ayyy xx