I watch Steven as he finishes cooking our dinner. There's an ease to his movements when he's in the kitchen; he seems to feel at home there. He looks up now and again, catching me looking at him. I'd feel embarrassed but in my situation there's no room for it. I have to lay everything out there in the hopes that something might click, might trigger a memory in me.
I already feel close to something as it is, but I know it isn't going to be a pleasant revelation. I can see it in the way Steven looks at me sometimes, not to mention the fearful, agonised looks Cheryl shoots me when she thinks I'm not paying attention.
I push it out of my mind for now and focus on him. He has his back to me as he puts the finishing touches on our meal; the cheese sinking into the hot dish. I stand up to get some plates out but my sudden movement seems to have startled him. He turns on his heel, face softening when he sees what I'm doing.
"You don't have to do that," he says, brushing his hands on one of Cheryl's aprons. It's bright pink and I raise my eyebrows at him, smirking. "What?" He looks self conscious all of a sudden, hands flying to his hair.
I chuckle, taking a step towards him. "I like the apron," I say softly, reaching up to brush my fingers through his hair. "Think you managed to get some cheese in here," I tell him. His eyes are locked on mine and I feel that familiar thrill between us. I lean in closer and so does he and for a moment I think finally until I hear a key in the door and we both spring apart guiltily.
"It's only us," Cheryl says loudly, bursting into the room as though she's rushed the whole way back. I take in Nate's resigned expression and nod to myself.
It takes her a moment to realise Steven's here too. When she does, she immediately goes towards him, arms outstretched.
"You alright, love?" She asks, kissing him on the cheek. I feel a flare of jealousy in the pit of my stomach. It's so easy for her to touch him, to be familiar.
"Yeah, not bad." He hunches in on himself, glancing at me. Cheryl looks between the two of us, her smile fading.
"What are you up to?" She asks, recovering.
"Steven made us some dinner," I mumble.
"There's plenty for you and Nate too," Steven offers.
"That's okay, we've already eaten. Besides, you know how much Brendan eats." She looks at me, expecting some kind of reaction that I can't possibly give her.
"Let's give them some privacy," Nate says, diffusing the tension. He guides Cheryl towards their room, giving me a nod before he closes the door.
"That was a bit awkward." Steven laughs a little, taking the plates out of my hands. Once again I reach towards him, this time wiping the lipstick off of his cheek. He colours instantly, shuffling away from me to dish up. My hand hovers in mid-air for a moment before I drop it. I repress a sigh.
The lasagne tastes good; I wolf mine down in minutes while Steven picks at his, looking distracted.
"Something wrong?" I ask him, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
"I don't know if I should stay here tonight," he says, not looking at me.
I freeze, my stomach twisting uncomfortably. "Why?" I croak.
He glances at me then, looking sheepish. "Not easy, is it?"
"What you talking about?"
He shifts in his seat, looking embarrassed. "You know what I'm talking about."
"Do I?"
He rolls his eyes, standing up to take our plates. "Forget it."
"No, come on." I take his wrist and he flinches. "What is it?"
"I don't wanna say," he murmurs, hurrying off to the kitchen. I follow, boxing him in against the sink.
"Please," I beg in a low voice. He stiffens, his knuckles turning white from his grip on the counter.
"Don't," he whispers, but doesn't turn around. I stare at the back of his head, baffled and frustrated.
Cheryl's bedroom door opens abruptly. Nate takes one look at us and smiles apologetically.
"Unfortunately we have to leave you tonight," he says. "My mother wants to see us."
"Now?" I glance at the time. It's only just gone seven. It feels much later.
"Well, I called her." Nate shrugs.
Cheryl comes out of the room next, looking annoyed. "Yeah, practically begged her to have us."
"That's good, isn't it?" I frown, trying to recall something. "You told me you haven't seen her in ages."
Cheryl's expression smoothes out as she takes this in.
"Exactly. She'll be delighted to see us, won't she, Cheryl?" Nate prompts.
Cheryl reluctantly agrees. "I suppose it's only one night." She looks at Steven then. "Are you staying tonight, Ste?"
"Well, I-"
"Great." She grins, interrupting him. "We'll be back in the morning."
We watch them gather their things and leave, Steven still pressed against the sink, as far from me as possible. I turn back to him when they're gone, alarmed by the look on his face.
"Jesus, Steven what's the matter?"
He pushes past me, wringing his hands together in agitation. "I told you-"
"I'm not forgetting anything." I wince at my choice of words. "Just talk to me."
He sighs, picking absently at his fingernails. I go towards him, pulling his hands into mine. He tries to pull away but I hold on tight.
"Tell me." I realise how unfair I'm being but I can't let him leave, not like this.
"It's bad enough," he begins quietly, grinding out each word. "That I'm in love with you, but when you're touching me…" he glances down at our entwined hands. "Please, Bren. Don't make this any harder."
"It doesn't have to be hard," I point out, releasing him. "I told you what I want."
"And I told you I can't."
I rub my temple, feeling hopeless. "I'm sorry, Steven."
"You should make me my cocktail." He laughs and I relax, grateful to him for trying to alleviate the situation.
"Cocktail?"
"You made me one once, to say sorry."
"I only made you a cocktail once? Not the best boyfriend material."
He smiles at that. "You weren't all bad," he says thoughtfully.
"That right?"
He shrugs, still looking thoughtful. "No one's perfect."
"Mmm," I agree. I suddenly can't take my eyes off him. "I should show you your room."
He blinks, startled. "Oh, right. Yeah."
I lead him past the kitchen. "That's my room." I gesture with my head. "This is yours."
"Next door." He looks up at me, blue eyes shining.
"You're welcome to come in if you have a nightmare," I tease him.
He bows his head, hiding his grin. "And what would you do?"
I lean against the nearest wall. "Comfort you of course."
"You wouldn't be annoyed at me for waking you up?"
"I don't know, would I?"
He considers this. "Not so much when we got back together. When we were just seeing each other, probably."
"How long were we seeing each other before we got together proper?"
"About two years."
"Seriously?"
"It took you a while to get there."
"I must have been soft in the head."
He smiles at that, opening the door to his room and peering inside. "Bit small, innit?"
"You're small."
"Oi, shut up!" He gives me a shove.
"What? It's true, ain't it? Scrawny arsed fucker."
"I'll show you…" the words die on his lips, his eyes widening as he takes a step back from me.
"Don't shut me out, Steven."
"I'm not."
"It's better if you tell me things, I might remember." I open my bedroom door and step inside. He follows me after a moment's hesitation.
"I couldn't tell you everything, there's too much."
I sit on my bed and he keeps himself close to the door, as though anticipating a quick getaway.
"You know what they say, actions speak louder than words."
He rolls his eyes at that. "Same old, Brendan. Trying to get into me pants."
I laugh, pushing myself off of the bed. "Can you blame me? Look at you."
"Shut up." He shakes his head.
"No, really. You're just…" I trail off, struggling to form words to describe him.
"Don't bother. We never needed any of that before."
"Yeah?"
"You were right about the actions thing."
"It speaking louder than words?"
"Yeah."
"How's this then?" I cross the room in two long strides, pushing him up against the door.
"Why are you doing this?" He sighs, laying his head against my shoulder.
"Because even though I don't remember, I know I love you," I say, surprising even myself. He looks up at me sharply. "I can't describe it. The memories aren't there, not yet, but I can feel how important this is." I touch his chest with my hand, where his heart is.
"There are reasons I'm not letting this happen," Steven says eventually. We seem to finally be getting somewhere.
"Tell me."
"It's not that simple. There are things you don't know about, things that would make this… wrong."
I shake my head, clearing any dark thoughts that might linger from my dreams. "It can't be wrong, it doesn't feel that way."
"Not to you."
"I'm saying yes though, Steven. Wouldn't I say the same if I knew everything?"
"That's not the point." He frowns. A part of me thinks he might be wavering.
"Then what is?"
He stares at me blankly, mouth hanging open. He swallows thickly. "I don't know anymore."
I take a step away from him. "Let's just sit for a bit, yeah?"
He nods, breathing out unevenly.
I push the pillows against the headboard, leaning back and leaving room for him. He crawls onto the bed and comes up beside me. I wrap my arm around him and pull him against my side.
"Better?"
"Yeah, thanks."
"I don't mean to be pushy, Steven."
"Don't be daft, you should have seen yourself in the early days."
"Oh yeah? That bad?"
"You wouldn't leave me alone half the time."
"And the other half?"
"You'd go all cold on me." Steven shifts a little against me. "It wasn't great to be honest."
"But it was better? When we…?" I trail off.
"Definitely. It was never perfect, but that was just us."
"Perfect is overrated anyway."
"Got that right."
We both fall silent, lost in our own thoughts. I wonder what's supposed to happen next and what he's thinking about.
"Do you think Nate did this on purpose?" He asks eventually, surprising me.
"Did what?"
"Went to his mum's."
"Why would he?"
"To give us some privacy."
"That doesn't seem to be Cheryl's objective."
"No." Steven frowns at that.
"I'm grateful anyway."
"Brendan…"
"I'm not gonna start again, I promise. It's just… nice, I guess. Having you here to myself."
Steven sighs, moving away from my side.
"Hey, where you going?"
"Need the loo, don't I?"
"Toilet's that way."
"You got a toilet in your room?"
"En-suite."
"Posh bastard."
"Watch it."
He grins at me, bouncing off of the bed. While he's out of the room, I take the time to look through a few of my belongings. I only have the basics right now, the rest is in storage according to Cheryl. I take out unfamiliar clothes and put them in my dresser.
Steven comes back in then, tilting his head to the side quizzically as he takes in what I'm doing.
"Gonna be weird seeing you in suits again."
"I've got nothing to wear a suit for right now. Can't imagine anyone employing me, can you?"
"You'd be surprised." He flops back onto the bed, laying down and letting his t-shirt rise. I notice he hasn't tucked his boxers back inside his trousers properly.
"Making yourself comfortable, hm?"
"I've been doing some thinking."
"When you were on the toilet?"
"Yeah," he says, as if this is the most normal thing in the world.
"What were you thinking then?"
He sits up, crossing his legs. "I'm gonna stay for a bit."
"I thought you already were."
"No, I mean not just for the night." He looks at me, face smooth and open. "If you'll have me that is."
For a moment I'm speechless. I stare at him for some time, feeling my chest tighten. Without even thinking it through, I climb onto the bed and pull him towards me in a fierce kiss. He reacts instantly, placing his hands against my face and pulling me closer. He seems to have lost his earlier reluctance; something must have clicked.
I break away, unable to ignore the swell of happiness rising within me but still needing to be sure.
"It's okay," he whispers, his pupils blown wide. "It was always gonna happen."
I kiss him again, pushing him back until we're both lying on the bed. I twist our bodies until he's manoeuvred on top of me, hips straddling mine, the friction of our groins making me hot all over.
He kisses me this time, sure of himself in a way I haven't seen him be so far. He grinds against me, groaning into my mouth. I realise with a startling intensity that I haven't done this before. Except I have, but the memory is lost to me for now. He seems to realise this at the same time, pulling away to look into my eyes.
"We'll take it slow, okay?"
My mind becomes overwhelmed with something that isn't bleak. I struggle against the memory; his words sound blissfully familiar…
"Okay," I agree, smiling to reassure him. He smiles back and it lights up his face. I brush my fingertips against his cheek, loving the flush of colour it brings out.
"We need um…" he looks embarrassed all of a sudden.
"What?" I stare at him uncomprehendingly.
"Hang on," he says, struck with a sudden idea. He leaves the room before I have a chance to react. He's back in under a minute, wrapper in hand. "They won't miss one." He grins at me, bounding back onto the bed.
"That's my little sister."
"Forget it." He shushes me with his mouth, tongue darting out to caress mine.
I run my hands underneath his shirt, pressing against his lower back. He arches at the touch, pulling away to take the shirt off. I bury my face against his chest, breathing in his warmth and smell. I feel something stirring in the back of my mind but I'm too in the moment to consider it for long.
He's eager to get my shirt off so I let him, laughing when his eyes widen at my defined chest.
"You're huge." He breathes. I see him swallow and lick his Adam's apple in response. He tastes so delicious I feel as though I can devour him whole. Instead I kiss the soft bit of skin below his ear, feeling him shudder against me.
Something instinctive takes over and I push him onto his back, pulling him out of his trousers. His cock lays erect against his stomach and I drink in the sight of him. I kiss his stomach, feeling the downy hairs against my nose as I travel lower. I kiss the inside of his thighs, loving the way he gets goosebumps. Hesitantly, I kiss his cock. He jerks in response, almost uprooting himself from the bed.
"Relax," I murmur, and feel a kind of familiarity in it.
His hands tangle in the bedcovers as I kiss him again, this time allowing my tongue to dart out. I lick his shaft, my tongue flat as I take it to the tip. He groans when I do it again and again, my hand drifting to his balls, rolling them in my palm. Feeling more confident, I take him into my mouth, sucking at the head to start with and gradually taking more of him inside. He closes his eyes, repressing a whimper.
"Don't hold out on me, Steven," I tell him and he opens his eyes, staring at me in wonder.
This time when I take him into my mouth, he lets out a moan. I smile around him, withdrawing with a satisfying pop.
"'Atta boy."
His gaze is locked on me, the intensity both startling and warming. I offer him my fingers and he takes them into his mouth almost greedily. The sight of him lapping and sucking makes me feel a little light-headed. He releases me, lips glossed over with spit. I keep his gaze as I gently rub against his entry, hoping his saliva will be enough.
He opens up for me, his muscles tightening around my fingers as I gradually ease more inside. The tight heat of him is making my cock strain inside my trousers. I slide them off, taking the condom he brought in and rolling it on. Instinct again.
He spreads his legs for me, throwing his head back. Once again I lick his throat, nipping at the nape of his neck.
"Brendan," he groans, almost pleadingly.
"I know," I murmur. I slick myself up with more spit and position the head against his hole, pushing in gently. He tenses for a moment but lets me in inch by inch. I shudder against him; he's even more tight than I anticipated. "Jesus," I mutter, and feel him laugh against me.
"You didn't even need my help," he says wonderingly.
I push the thoughts beginning to surface to the side and wrap my arm around his waist, holding him in place.
"Ready?"
He nods, closing his eyes automatically.
"No," I tell him. "Keep looking at me."
He opens them immediately, and gives me the purest look of adoration. I feel something crash into me and it spurs me to give him this, to give us this.
I rock against his body, keeping my movements contained at first. There isn't enough lubrication so I spit on my hand again, kissing him in apology.
"It's okay," he murmurs against my lips. "You won't break me."
His words send a thrill through me and my movements pick up pace. I take myself out of him to the tip, slamming back to the base in one fluid movement. It makes both of us shudder. I do this several times, aware that I'm hitting a particular spot inside of him that's driving him crazy.
I re-position us so his legs are wrapped around my waist. He holds himself securely in place, our bodies tangling together as I lower myself to his level, wanting to be close to him while I fuck him. He kisses me, mouth wide and willing.
In those moments I forget everything else and remember only him. His body, slick with sweat as it slides against mine, his breath hot in my mouth. His cries of pleasure reverberate around the room and I'm suddenly intensely thankful that we're alone.
He gives my chest a pat, indicating that he wants me to move. He pushes me to a seated position, not releasing my cock from inside him. He moves slowly up and down on top of me, one arm curled around my shoulders, the other wrapped around his own cock, pumping to the rhythm of his thrusts.
This position is more intimate. I can feel his breath against my neck, and it's a pleasant sensation. I can feel myself building to the climax and can see the same reaction in him, his hand jerking erratically with his need to come. I take his hand away, replacing it with my own. I create a suction of heat with the palm of my hand and watch the effect it has on him. He comes within moments, shuddering against me, his head falling against my shoulder to muffle his cries.
I push him back, giving him no time to recover. I pull his legs apart and push into him relentlessly until I too come, almost screaming with how intense it feels.
In the moments afterwards, I'm aware of a faint buzzing in my ears. I watch as he cleans us both up and slots himself against my side, pulling the covers over our bodies. Now that the haze of sex is over, I realise something with startling clarity.
"It's alright, innit, when it's just you and me?"
He looks up at me, his eyelashes framed around his bright blue eyes. His lips are soft and kiss swollen. His hair falls against his forehead.
"Brendan?" He asks wonderingly.
I kiss him.
"Yes," I murmur against him. "I remember it."
"Remember what?" He asks, but I think he already knows.
"Our first time. I remember it." I pull him tight against me, an overwhelming need seizing me to keep him close and solid in my arms. "I remember."