"Osborne, come here." Brendan motions for Darren to come closer with his hand, watches as the officer timidly walks over to him, looks around as if searching for protection. "You're going to do me a little favour."
Darren's face falls immediately, knows exactly what he's talking about, has been here too many times before.
"I can't do this anymore. I could lose my job." He stares over his shoulder nervously, shuffles from foot to foot.
"Better than losing your wife and child, isn't it?"
Brendan loves and hates in equal measure how easy it is to convince someone that he's a cold blooded killer. He can see the fear in Darren's eyes, the knowledge that he truly believes every word he's saying.
"What do you want?"
"Steven's going to be staying here tonight."
"Who?"
Brendan sighs at peoples insistence at calling the boy Ste, isn't a proper name at all. He stands aside, gives Darren access to the boy sitting on the bed.
"Hay? You can't have him in here Brendan, you share with Scott now."
"Fuck, I forgot," Brendan says, smacks himself on the forehead with a hand. "Oh wait, that's why I called this a favour." He takes out a stick of gum, pops it between his lips and chews while staring Darren down, waiting for the moment when he breaks.
"Where's Ethan going to be staying?"
"With the Yank. Call it a sleepover."
"That's against the rules."
He's going to have to increase his threats here, resort to dirty tactics to hammer the message home.
"The money good here, Osborne?"
"What?" Darren blinks, disarmed by the abrupt change in subject.
Brendan has to move fast here, is itching to get back to Steven.
"Your salary. Can't exactly be making millions." He looks him up and down, taking in the crumpled uniform, his shoes which are close to falling apart, the fact that he looks about four months overdue a haircut.
"That's not your problem, is it?"
"I could make it my problem."
"Living on a goldmine are you, Brendan?" Darren mocks, but he can hear the curiosity in his voice, knows that he's interested, perfect for Brendan to exploit.
"I have some money. Could become your money if you play your cards right."
Darren looks close to giving in, so deliciously easy to sway until his morals kick in.
"It's not going to happen."
Brendan leans in closer to him, doesn't want to risk the chance of Steven overhearing.
"You've got Nancy and Oscar to support, haven't you? Think about what you could do for them, bit of extra cash in your pocket."
Darren draws back, looks between Brendan and Steven. "One night?"
"One night." He's not sure that Steven will agree to any more, not when he's still tiptoeing around him, not when the wound's still so raw.
He couldn't have chosen anyone riper than Darren, knows that there's nothing he wouldn't do for his family.
"If I don't get the money -"
"You will." He's a man who sticks to his promises. "I'll find you tomorrow."
"You mean I'll find you tomorrow."
"Sure," Brendan says, smiles at the man's futile fight for control, should know by now that it's a losing battle. "Osborne - one last thing."
Now comes the embarrassing part. It has to be done, but he's avoided it until the end for a reason.
"Do you have a condom?"
Darren blinks, looks like he's a pubescent teen in a sex education class and he's just been confronted with his first vagina.
"Excuse me?"
"A condom," Brendan says slowly, is wondering whether he'll have to spell it out too. "You know, one of those things which stop women from making babies and ensure that I don't have to take a trip to the local STI clinic?"
"Yeah, I know what it is," he says uncomfortably.
Act like it then, and make this less awkward for me.
"You must have one lying about somewhere."
"It's not a biro, Brendan."
"Ha ha, very funny. I need one."
"A biro?"
Jesus, he's dealing with idiots here.
"A condom."
"Why?"
Brendan senses that this is going to be the long and drawn out conversation that he was hoping to avoid.
"Because I'm hoping to fuck that boy in there one day, and my usual supplier's no longer available."
"Oh. Right." Darren stares over his shoulder at Steven, looks him up and down like he's sizing him up, having to resist the urge to ask will that kid be okay?
"Well I don't have one on me right now."
"There must be someone in this place who does." He's not fooling himself that he's going to sleep with Steven today, but if the chance arises he wants to be able to keep them both safe.
"I suppose one of the officers might..."
Brendan stares at him expectantly.
"What?" Darren says, colouring at the intensity of his glance.
"Chop chop, I haven't got all day."
"You want me to -"
"Yes. Now."
He stays rooted to the spot for a second, jumping when Brendan slams his foot down on the floor, startling him. Brendan laughs under his breath while he watches Darren running away, leans against the doorframe and looks at Steven sitting on the bed.
It's difficult to not think about what he wants to do to the boy.
When Darren returns Brendan quickly hides the condom in his pocket, doesn't want Steven to assume that he's had this all planned out since the start. He hasn't, but where the boy's concerned there's always that hope, that desire.
Steven's all over him with questions when he closes the door.
"What was all that about, or don't I want to know?" There's mistrust there, mistrust that Brendan knows he deserves.
"Honestly?"
Steven nods reluctantly, is smart enough to know that he's better off being left in the dark about Brendan's activities.
"You don't want to know. Bottom line is, you're staying here tonight."
Steven's eyes on him are still cold, wary.
"I mean, if that's what you want." He softens his voice, reminds himself that right now he should feel like the luckiest guy on the planet for even getting something that resembles a second chance.
"I don't even know what I want." Steven rubs his hands over his eyes, looks exhausted and shell shocked from the day's events.
Brendan can't blame him, has been a head fuck for him and he'd thought he'd already seen everything that the world could throw at him.
"You should get some rest." He knows that's what the boy needs more than anything right now. He needs to sleep the effects of the moonshine off, is close to collapsing with tiredness and intoxication.
"I haven't got my pajamas."
Brendan doesn't remember Steven owning any, had only ever seen him sleeping fully dressed, or eventually naked. If he'd been cold in the night he'd slipped on some boxers and a t-shirt, but Brendan liked feeling his skin against his own, not the material of clothing.
He doesn't want to overstep a line here, sound like he only wants him for one thing. It surprises him that it isn't about that, that he just wants Steven here in the room with him, to keep him close.
"I'll sleep in my clothes too," Brendan says, wants to set the boy at ease.
"No, don't be daft. You'll be uncomfortable like that."
Brendan can't believe how much he still cares about him, even now.
"It's okay," Steven continues after a moment, looking at the floor in embarrassment. "You can change."
Brendan goes over to the mirror, tries to create the most amount of space between them so that Steven doesn't feel like he's too close, too suffocating.
He stares at his reflection, takes in how haggard he looks, feels like he's aged twenty years in two weeks. Being without this boy has taken its toll on him, has reduced him to someone who can only do the bare necessities, is just about able to wash and dress himself without falling apart.
He's barely bothered to shave. A beard's close to forming, and he runs a hand over it, wondering why out of all the people in the world Steven chose him. Even in the state he's in Steven looks flawless, skin as honey coloured as ever, eyes bright and shining.
Brendan wants him just as much as he ever has, attraction and desire making him feel self conscious, another crippling first, as he begins to get undressed.
He can see Steven trying to distract himself, facing away. Brendan has a feeling that it's for the boy's benefit, that he doesn't want Brendan to see his face, his reaction.
It's quiet in the room, but he fears that if he tries to put on music then it'll draw attention to the awkwardness of the situation, will suggest that he feels as uncomfortable as Steven does.
When Brendan's shirtless he makes a grab for a vest, has to move closer to Steven to pull one from the drawer, tries his hardest not to brush against the boy when he reaches for it. When he'd kissed him before it had been light, Steven's lips barely even moving against his own. Bodily contact, real bodily contact, feels like something they haven't done in a very long time, and Brendan's scared that he's forgotten what Steven feels like, fears even more that he'll never feel it again.
Even when a vest and boxer shorts are covering his modesty he still feels naked.
He moves towards his bed, hasn't even had the opportunity to wash the sheets, and his lip curls in distaste at the knowledge that Walker and Kevin's bodies have been all over them.
First thing tomorrow he's going to soak them in a hot wash, get out the poison.
Steven gets underneath the covers of Ethan's bed, looks like an overgrown kid with all his clothes still on, tracksuit top poking up from underneath the sheet.
Brendan turns one of the lights off, keeps the remaining one on so that they're not shrouded in complete darkness. It feels safer this way, dark enough so that they don't have to look at each other, but not like back when they used to share a cell, when sleep was the last thing on their minds.
"Thanks for staying with me." It hurts to be this honest. He's not used to saying these things, thank you and I'm sorry, is so accustomed to lying his way out of situations that it's a shock to say what he really feels.
"It's okay."
"No, it's not. I shouldn't have asked you."
"Then why did you?"
"Because I'm weak, and selfish."
He's sure he can hear Steven laugh softly across the room.
"That makes two of us."
"You're neither of those things." It's essential that he makes Steven understand this, can't say it out loud but he's the best man he's ever known. "Amy's lucky to have you. So are the kids."
"I can't...I can't stand that when you were a kid you..."
Brendan closes his eyes, tries to drown out his words and the memories that they bring. They feel as real and vivid as though it's happening all over again.
Everything seems to lead back there. He's been running his whole life but he can never seem to run fast enough.
"You told me once that you had a choice. That you chose to find Seamus, to..."
To kill him.
Brendan squeezes his eyes even more tightly shut, tries to imagine that if he does it enough he can make this all go away.
"Why did you go back there?"
"He deserved to pay."
"You could have had your whole life ahead of you though." Steven's voice sounds strangled, sounds like it's painful to get the words out. "And me and you...we could have met. Could have met outside of this place, and..."
"We never would have met anywhere else, Steven. Boy like you, you wouldn't have come anywhere near my world. You wouldn't want to have known me back then. I was fucked up." He laughs hollowly. "Even more fucked up," he adds before Steven can do it for him.
"I just...I hate that you're stuck in this place. I hate what he did to you."
Brendan's grateful that Steven doesn't say his father's name, doesn't want it to taint the boy's perfect mouth.
"You should be free." He says it with such aching conviction, actually believes that Brendan deserves it. He doesn't think anyone in his life has ever known exactly who he is and loved him anyway.
It seems to hover between them, has done every since Steven spoke the word, is unavoidable and he can't take it back.
"What you said to Walker before, about me not..." Brendan steels himself to say it, knows it's only a damn four letter word, that it should hold no power over him, but he can't do it.
"Loving me?" Steven finishes for him, voice sounding close to breaking.
"I...I care about you, Steven." He knows how insubstantial it sounds.
"Right."
"Vincent and Macca...all the others...I never felt about them the way I feel about you." He prays that this is enough, that Steven will understand how it takes all that he has to admit this.
"Feel?" The boy sounds hopeful in the darkness.
"Feel," Brendan says firmly, because nothings changed for him. Nothing ever will.
He hears the ruffling of covers, wonders if Steven's decided to turn over and go to sleep, conversation over. He'll understand if the boy has. God knows he deserves to be given the silent treatment after what he's done, wouldn't blame Steven if he never wanted anything more to do with him.
He wants the boy to shout at him, to lash out, to punch him if that's what he needs. As long as he stays with him he'll let him do anything, would feel like a strange kind of relief if Steven gave him what he deserved, left him a bloodied and broken mess on the floor.
He becomes aware of footsteps padding towards him, turns his head and sees the most beautiful statue standing before his bed.
"Budge over then."
Brendan does so immediately, is dazed but can't allow himself to wait in case Steven changes his mind.
He hasn't slept with someone beside him in weeks, but it feels right, feels more natural than the solitary state that he's been existing in. It's warmer now with Steven next to him, the softness of his tracksuit rubbing against Brendan's bare arms.
He's not going to be able to resist kissing him for much longer, and Steven knows it, can see the way that Brendan's eyes are dark, pupils dilated as he stares at his lips.
"I haven't forgiven you."
It's not what he was was expecting to hear, the harshness of his words contrasting with his actions, with the way he brushes his arm against Brendan's, finally allowing himself to touch.
He doesn't reply, senses that Steven's got a whole speech that he's planned out in his head, and he's building up the bravery to speak it aloud.
"I can't just forget what you did. I'm not sure I ever will. I wanted to die because of you, because I wasn't with you. Do you know how fucked up that is? I've got a family to support, a life back home, and I was close to forgetting about all that, letting it go because of you."
It hurts that Steven would ever even contemplate giving up. Brendan knows he would have followed him if he had, wouldn't have survived long in this world without him.
"See. I told you that you were wrong about me not being selfish. And now I'm thinking about doing it all over again, taking that risk..."
Brendan turns in the bed to look at Steven, feels a swell of hope rise in his chest.
Please, please take that risk again.
"You're the worst thing that's ever happened to me."
Likewise. The most reckless, the most stupid...
"But I love you."
Brendan can't understand how these words don't cause him panic like they've done so many times before. He likes hearing them from this man.
He can see Steven desperately searching his eyes, needing him to give something back, anything.
"I don't think I can live my life without you." He expects the honesty to cripple him, but he's still here. He hasn't been struck down by God, not yet.
Somewhere deep in his gut he knows that if Steven hadn't returned to him he would have sought him out. All the Kevin's and Walker's in the world wouldn't have been able to stop him.
There was only ever one way this was going to go. He was never going to feel any differently.
Steven nestles closer to him, and Brendan dares to tentatively put an arm around him, begins stroking against Steven's hand when he doesn't tell him to stop.
He breathes in the scent of the boy, places his lips against his hair and lightly kisses it.
He meant what he said, he doesn't expect anything here tonight. He knows he's got a lifetime of making up to do, only wishes that Steven had that lifetime here with him. He wants the boy's freedom, wants him to leave this place and never look back, but he already knows how hollow he'll feel without him, how completely empty.
Steven reaches to take Brendan's hand in his, and he worries for a moment that the boy's going to push him away, that he's moving too fast here.
He slowly leads it downwards, reaches underneath the cover and places his hand below his tracksuit jumper, smoothing it over the soft skin of his stomach. It's warm there, and Brendan's hand feels cold in comparison, can see Steven let out a little yelp from the change in temperature.
Brendan removes his hand, blows hot air on it quickly then places it back, slow slip slide of his palm against Steven's taut skin. He gently moves it back and forth, keeps his eyes on Steven's the entire time, watching the way the boy's own lids close against the movement.
"That's nice." He sighs, and it reminds Brendan of when he first gave him a massage, wonders if the boy's cock is beginning to grow harder like it did back then.
He doesn't make any movement further downwards, just continues with this slow up and down ministration. Steven is in charge here, isn't a particularly safe place for either of them to be, but this is all in the boy's hands. Brendan's prepared to do anything he wants, would stop right now if he told him to.
Brendan can feel his own dick straining in his boxers, can't resist rubbing against Steven's leg, watching as the boy becomes aware of the fact, opening his eyes sluggishly with a hint of a smile on his lips.
He reaches underneath the covers again, strokes his hand over Brendan's own and guides it lower. Brendan's thankful that the boy's not wearing jeans, makes getting access that much easier, and his hand slips in one clean motion into Steven's boxers.
It's still not enough for the boy.
"Wait, let me..." He lifts his arse up, tongue between his teeth, and Brendan has to resist the urge to bite down on it.
He can feel the material of Steven's jogging bottoms as he shuffles out of them. The boy's bare legs are against his own, the dark hair prickling, causing goosebumps to form on Brendan's skin.
He keeps his underwear on, doesn't seem ready to be parted with it yet. They haven't been naked and touching each other like this in weeks, and it shows. Brendan can feel him shivering, knows it's not from the cold. He wants to offer him some kind of reassurance, tries to smile and communicate that he'll protect him, that he'll never hurt him again.
Steven seems to gather some strength from him, whispers you can touch me, and Brendan resumes the position of his hand, begins gliding it over Steven's pubic hair, familiarising himself with the boy's body, with his reactions and facial expressions as his hands explore him.
He hasn't lost his responsiveness, the way he keens and rises his stomach off the bed when Brendan strokes over his groin.
Brendan tosses the covers aside, wants to see Steven. He can feel his own lips part when he takes his cock in his palm, smooths a single finger over its head and listens as Steven's breathing becomes faster.
He thinks about how he never appreciated this, never really appreciated what it meant to be with someone he cares about like he is now.
His touch is still hesitant, is aware that Steven could shrug him off at any moment. He doesn't deserve a second chance, but it's difficult not to want to take it, has never been able to resist the boy, especially when he's spread eagled underneath him like this.
He wants to show Steven that he's capable of being gentle. He used to wake up and see the indents of his hands over Steven's thighs, bite marks peppered around his neck. He's reluctant to leave even the slightest graze this time, knows that it may remind the boy too acutely of what bruises he's left on his skin in his past.
Brendan moves down the bed, keeping his lips against Steven's body the entire time, trailing down his chest and stomach. He uses the lightest touch, just the soft press of his mouth before he reaches Steven's cock.
The boy raises his legs up ever so slightly for him, allowing him better access. Brendan kisses round his thighs, dips his tongue into the hot skin and trails it down leisurely, over the crevices and small brown moles that cover Steven's body.
The boy groans, guides Brendan's head closer to his groin like he thinks he's teasing him, avoiding it on purpose. He's not, not this time. He's waiting for Steven to tell him what to do here, is constantly aware that he's lucky just to be allowed to be here with him again.
"Brendan."
He pulls his head away from nuzzling against Steven's thigh and looks up at him.
"It's okay, you know. I want you to do this."
He can't understand why, can't understand how Steven could want someone so monstrous anywhere near him. Brendan's allowing this to happen because he's thinking about his own needs, knows that this is what he desires most in the world, but he's fighting the urge to tell Steven to stop him, that he can't let someone like him back into his life.
"Hey." Steven's not letting this go, is forcing him to look at him, his voice coaxing and soft. "I want you."
Brendan tries to believe it, aches to.
"Kiss me."
The boy's voice acts as a gravitational pull towards him, and Brendan climbs up his body, discarding his vest along the way so he can feel the rub of their skin against each other. He shivers against the friction of his chest hair brushing against the smoothness of Steven, has always found their contrasts delicious.
Steven anchors his head closer towards him, seems to get more of a mouthful of his moustache rather than his actual lips, but he's sure that this is the boy's intention by the way he laughs against his mouth, the quiet giggle making it impossible for Brendan not to return the smile.
Steven briefly moves away from him to shrug off the rest of his clothes, encourages Brendan to do the same by grappling with the front of his boxers. Brendan keeps the covers over them when Steven slips out of his own underwear, feels faintly ridiculous considering the things they've done to each other in the past, the places their mouths and hands have explored, but it feels like they're starting all over again now.
The boy's trying to calm him with kisses, and it's working. His hands are roaming down Brendan's body as his tongue delves with his, gently decreasing his resistance and giving Brendan the confidence to fool himself that he deserves him.
Brendan doesn't think he's ever kissed someone so much in his life. There's a certain pleasure to it, a pleasure that he's only just beginning to acknowledge. There's no sense of urgency now, no desperate need to be inside the boy.
He allows himself to enjoy this, the feel of their heated kisses and Steven's hands everywhere, eventually seeming to settle on his arse, pulling Brendan closer towards him.
He begins to grind against Steven's body, rub of their cocks together, can feel how achingly hard Steven is against him, already feels like he's close to coming. The boy's digging his nails into the skin of Brendan's arse, and he can feel his hands beginning to explore him, his fingers going lower.
He shudders when he feels the press of a single finger against his hole, unexpected and jolting.
It's not something he's done a lot in the past. It reminds him of things that he'd rather not be reminded of, of someone pushing their way inside when he wasn't ready, when he didn't ask for it or want it.
But this man isn't his father, is nothing like him.
He was only partly telling Steven the truth when he said he doesn't trust people. He does trust this boy, as much as he's capable of ever thinking that he's safe with anyone.
Brendan reaches for his own cock between their bodies, starts stroking languidly while he presses his lips into Steven's neck, breathes into him don't stop.
They're healing each other here.
The press against his entrance becomes something stronger, firmer, more self assured.
He feels the tip of Steven's finger beginning to enter him, probing and sinking into his tight and wet heat. Brendan clamps down on it at first, internal muscles feeling like he's rejecting it, but Steven's other hand is rubbing against his arse soothingly, calming and reassuring, and he forces himself to relax.
The finger's stretching him further now, and Brendan bites down on the boy's neck. He was meant to be gentle here, but it's impossible to resist the boy's protests and silent begging, the way he's hardening against Brendan's stomach with each forceful suck of Brendan's teeth on him.
"Does that feel okay?" Steven says, senses how Brendan still hasn't completely let go, not yet.
His body feels tightly wound, braced for some kind of pain, knows that Steven would never hurt him deliberately, but the fear still holds power over him, the thought of what could happen.
He's never willingly relinquished control like this before.
Brendan hums against Steven's throat, a muffled yes, can feel the push of Steven's single digit against his prostate, hitting the spot inside him again and again, feels like a spark's running through him.
He shuffles closer to the boy, leans forward on his knees to make his entrance more easily accessible. He transfers his hand from his own cock to Steven's and begins stroking him while the boy adds a second finger into him slowly.
Brendan wishes he had lube, would make this easier and less intimidating, but he's gradually adjusting to the feel of Steven's fingers exploring him, the hesitant back and forth slide that soon turns into assured and deliberate movements when Brendan kisses him encouragingly.
Brendan's places his hand around Steven's cock firmer, his strokes becoming harder. He feels perfect around him, just the right amount of thickness, and it's after ten minutes of doing this that he notices that something's changed.
"You want to give me some attention here too?" Brendan laughs.
Steven's stopped completely in his movements on him, has rolled his head back against the pillow, closed his eyes, eyelashes fluttering as he holds onto Brendan's shoulder, the hold on him tight as Brendan jerks him off.
"Sorry," he says. He looks dazed, opens his eyes like he's forgotten where he is for a moment.
There's a hint of a smile on his face, and Brendan only truly realises now how much he'd missed it.
"It's alright." He leans forward and rubs his nose against the boy's, nuzzling them together. "I'm joking."
He loves Steven like this, when he lies back and takes the pleasure that he deserves.
"It just feels so good."
Brendan concentrates on the way the boy's biting on his lip now, tongue occasionally darting out, looks hot as hell and like he's dying to be fucked.
"How good?" Brendan teases.
"Too good." The boy's smiling brightly now, that peculiar mixture of shyness and boldness that's ever present.
"No such thing as too good."
But he thinks there might be. He feels like he wants Steven too much, too overwhelming, too frightening.
Steven breaks off from him, stills Brendan's movements on his dick. It's not like him, is so entirely unlike him that Brendan knows there must be a catch. Steven never interrupts him when he's doing this.
He watches curiously for the boy's next move.
Steven scraps his fingers down Brendan's chest, encouraging him to lie on his back. Brendan lets himself be guided, senses that whatever's coming is going to be something he likes a lot.
He props his head on the pillow, watches as Steven climbs on top of him, smooth golden arse in his face.
For a second he thinks the boy's going to take him down balls deep, is going to start riding him, and the thought makes him dizzy.
But Steven's got other plans.
He shuffles backwards, ever closer to where Brendan's lips are, and Brendan slides his hands over Steven's back, fingers tracing his spine. He feels delicate in his arms, feels like he could count every bone in his slender body, but there's a strength to him as well, a bravery and a certain type of power that's its own kind of turn on.
He'd vastly underestimated Steven when they'd first met, but he'll never make that mistake again.
Now he knows what Steven's going to do.
Steven swallows down his cock in one smooth motion, can feel the head of his dick hitting against the boy's throat as he bobs back and forth. He's good at this, really fucking good, feels like he could teach Brendan a thing or too, as reluctant as he'd ever be to admit it.
He's never been with someone whose gone from being so intimidated at his size to this, to taking him down effortlessly, Brendan's pubic hair lightly scratching against the boy's nose.
When Steven slurps it sounds like a humming sound, feels like it's shooting straight through Brendan's entire body, mmmmhmmmm.
He doesn't blame the boy for becoming distracted earlier, isn't sure how he's going to concentrate considering what's being done to him right now.
He's going to give it his best shot though.
Brendan starts by kissing Steven's arse, rubs his moustache against it and causes the boy to break away from his cock, let out a giggle and push his arse back towards him, a wiggling gesture that makes Brendan want to laugh. Fucking shameless.
"Steven, Steven, so demanding..."
"Yeah, so what?"
Brendan can imagine his pout from where he's lying.
"It's been weeks."
Brendan's smile fades. Weeks. Because of him. Because of what he did. Something that an apology can't fix.
Steven's perceptive, always has been. He lays a kiss against Brendan's knee, a wordless source of comfort. It still doesn't stop him from grinding his arse back towards Brendan's mouth, and not for the first time Brendan wonders who's really in charge here.
He chuffs a laugh, and the sound seems to ease the boy's tension, makes him swallow him down to the root again, movement so sudden that it causes Brendan's legs to shudder and buckle.
"Come on," he whines, impatient as he always is, voice rising several octaves higher in desperation.
Brendan decides not to prolong the boy's sweet suffering and parts his cheeks, lets out a involuntary sigh when he sees his hole, looks so tight, thinks that answers his question about whether Steven's been penetrated since they were last together.
Thank God.
He extends a finger and brushes it against the hair covering the boy's entrance. He remembers his desire to see the hair wet, the way it would turn darker from being covered in water. Now that they're together again, he's going to have to remind himself to put that to the test.
"Steven."
He hears the boy release him with a pop, and look back over his shoulder with eyes dripping with need, dark and like molten lava.
Brendan's certain that he could ask him to do anything right now and he would, eagerly.
"Open your mouth."
"I thought I just did." Cheeky fucker.
Brendan holds out a single finger towards him, making his intent clear. Steven moves closer to him immediately, lips already parted, and it's enough to make Brendan's heart rate increase, can't believe how much the boy wants it.
Steven guides him into his mouth, begins sucking and wetting him thoroughly. It's the kind of sight a man could dream of, and God knows it's been in Brendan's dreams, the punishing ones when he was without the boy.
The thing that destroys him the most is the way Steven never takes his eyes off him. He knows how much it affects him, knows that to tear his eyes away would be impossible. Steven's playing with him, exploiting his weaknesses, can't do a thing about it because of how fucking good it feels.
Steven releases him when he's slicked up, goes right back to sucking at the head of Brendan's cock. He hasn't even had to ask. Jesus.
"Good boy," Brendan whispers, stroking down his spine as he parts the boy's arse cheeks once more, making sure that he doesn't undo Steven's hard work by drying his finger against his skin.
He begins to slowly open him up. Now there's the added thrill of remembering how it felt when Steven's fingers were in him, and he wants to make it just as good for the boy, wants to recreate that feeling of being set alight.
Steven stills when his finger begins to go deeper inside him. He stops in his movements, just keeps his mouth clamped around Brendan's cock, warm and solid while he waits for that moment when he can start fucking himself on Brendan's fingers.
When Brendan adds a second he begins to rock back gently, just the smallest amount. The groan that comes from him is one of the sexiest sounds Brendan's ever heard, torn from him like it's something beyond Steven's control.
Brendan puts a hand around Steven's stomach, trailing his fingers against the soft skin, feeling as sweat particles transfer onto him. He holds him, has to because he senses that Steven's increasingly getting out of control here, and needs an anchor to reality.
He takes his lips off from around Brendan's cock, and when he turns round to look at him his face is wanton, full of need.
"Please." So pretty when he begs.
"Move back slowly." He sounds like he's panting, like he's just run a marathon, is too turned on to be even the slightest bit embarrassed.
Steven immediately obeys, rocks back and forth, those powerful legs of his tensing and then relaxing, his stomach muscles contracting around Brendan's hand.
Brendan just watches him, could watch him for the rest of his life just doing this, most perfect sight in the world. Steven's so, so wet, and the sound of his inner tissues around Brendan's fingers is obscene with every movement. He can hear it every time Steven breaks off from his fuck Brendan, fucking hell to bite down on Brendan's leg.
"Shall I get my tongue in there?" He doesn't need to, not when Steven's this ready, but they both love it.
He can feel Steven nodding against his leg, and slowly withdraws his two fingers from inside the boy. Steven's entire body seems to shake when he eases out, lets out a loud and guttural groan and fists Brendan's cock rapidly, like some kind of reward for what he's just done to him.
The boy's hole is open to him now, and his tongue slips in easily, his resistance weakened. Steven's a mouthy little fucker, and not even biting down on his knuckles stops him from crying out.
Brendan can see an officer looking into the screen window out of the corner of his eye, disappears like the wind when he sees what they're doing.
They don't have to hide anymore. There's no fear of Walker finding them, of this being revealed. He feels free.
He loves the taste of him. It's not something he can put a name to, not something he can describe with flavours or textures. It's just him, just Steven, and it's addictive, his tongue twisting and coiling inside the boy's arse.
Even with Brendan's arm around him he can't be still, is pushing back against his mouth.
"I'm going to come soon," he sighs, almost sounds like defeat.
He knows how Steven gets like this, becomes so tightly wound, sheer frustration making him feel like he's going to explode.
Brendan knows him well enough to be able to tell that he's not going to come though, not yet, not even close.
The boy's just trying to get him to stick his dick in him.
Brendan reaches between their bodies, his hand grasping Steven's cock. It's hard, so unbearably hard. He squeezes it, and it causes the boy to let out a hiss.
"Brendan, I said -"
"You're not going to come," he says, removing his tongue briefly and sucking against the boy's arse cheek, making sure that he'll leave a bite there tomorrow.
He's wrong.
He feels something hot and sticky against his hand. Steven gasps, his body shuddering, shouts out Brendan's name as he comes down from the high.
Brendan laughs gruffly, withdrawing his hand from around the boy's cock.
"My mistake," he says, licking Steven's come from around his fingers until every drop is inside his mouth. He swallows it down, gives a low hum of appreciation and the boy a slap on the arse for good measure.
Brendan lifts Steven off from on top of him and climbs off the bed.
"Sorry."
The boy actually thinks he's disappointed, that he's let him down somehow.
Brendan just shakes his head, reaching inside his jeans pocket and taking out the condom.
"Never say sorry to me again."
Steven begins to get it, begins to smile at him, has that look in his eyes that says he knows exactly what's about to happen, and fucking loves it.
Brendan tears the condom from its wrapper and puts it on.
"Lie down. I'm going to come inside you."