Brendan's starting to regret his decision to bring Steven here.
He feels the atmosphere in the room shift the minute Kevin walks through the door. He couldn't care less if the kid's here. Any initial intrigue he felt towards the lad has been replaced by the desire he feels for Steven. Kevin was a toy, a distraction from the thing he most wanted to forget.
But his presence in the class is affecting Steven, and for this he needs the kid gone.
He watches as Steven moves away from Tony, his eyes never wavering from Kevin. He looks determined, his face and body rigid. Like he could do some serious damage.
What Steven may be lacking in muscle and height, he's making up for in anger. Brendan knows first hand how that's the most important ingredient in a fight, that without it you may as well be the toughest man in the world and you'll still end up on the floor.
He keeps closely behind the boy, doesn't want him doing anything reckless here, especially not with Tony standing inches away.
"You're in my seat." Steven's voice is like steel.
Kevin blinks, plays innocent. Brendan's not so sure that he is, has dealt with his fair share of doe eyed boys in the past who are anything but naive, who'll try and steal your wallet when you're not looking, and rob you for every cent you're worth.
"Sorry, I didn't know these seats were assigned." There's an edge to his voice that Brendan doesn't like.
He's staring back at Steven, mouthing off and being deliberately difficult. Brendan's not going to let that happen, feels something like rage rising in him already.
But he still doesn't intervene. He wants to see how Steven will handle this. There's something about watching him have power over another person that fascinates him, that makes his dick hard.
"That's Brendan's jacket," the boy nods, motioning to the table where his clothing is sprawled. "And I'm with Brendan."
No one misses the inflection of the with, the fact that Steven's clearly not just talking about cooking here.
"There's plenty of room, isn't there?"
"Yes, come on Ste," Tony intervenes uneasily. "I'm sure the three of you can work together."
Steven laughs, turning towards Brendan. "You two were partners, then?"
Brendan nods slowly, wishes he could take back everything about these last few weeks, but he can't.
"Yeah, we were...together." Kevin's voice rings out loud and clear, unavoidable.
Brendan stares at him, wondering how he can have the nerve to say that. He's starting to think he's doing this on purpose, that it's no accident.
"Get your arse off Steven's seat, kid."
It's not what Kevin was expecting to hear, and his face drops. He underestimated Brendan's loyalty.
He shifts reluctantly from the chair, and Tony visibly relaxes, allows himself to be distracted by Silas and his protestations about not being able to choose today's dish.
It's exactly what Kevin wanted. He uses his absence to look Steven up and down, barely concealed judgement in his eyes.
"Can I be honest with you?"
Brendan narrows his eyes. Honesty can often be an excuse to be a bastard.
"Go on."
"You can do better."
Brendan's jaw twitches, and he hears himself beginning to laugh. "I think most of us could do better than prison, Kevin."
He knows that's not what this is about though.
"No. I'm not talking about that." He laughs like this is all a game.
"You're talking about Steven." He looks at the boy, at everything he is, the crown of golden hair and the long, sooty lashes and the caramel coloured skin. The vulnerability. The strength.
He turns back towards Kevin. "I like that. I see what you did there."
Except he doesn't like it, and he doesn't see. No one on this earth could ever do better than Steven Hay.
"No offense, but I don't know what you see in him."
Brendan can see Steven's anger rising, how he's close to hitting Kevin. He's not going to allow that to happen. The boy's freedom is worth too much.
But his own freedom is worth nothing, not when he doesn't have it to lose. He doesn't have to stand here and listen while Kevin insults the thing he cares about the most.
In one fluid move he has Kevin pinned to the table, his face pressed against it. The kid struggles in his grasp, but Brendan's grip is solid, unwavering. He becomes animalistic when someone tries to hurt the things that belong to him.
"Why is it when someone says no offense they immediately follow it up with something really offensive. Why is that?" He whispers why why why into the lad's ear, his hand firmly holding Kevin's head.
He can see Tony's panic when he notices what's going on, and his rush to get to their side of the room to break it up.
He's going to make sure that Kevin hears him saying this first though.
"You make another crack about Steven again and I will kill you. Do you understand?"
Kevin frantically mutters yes, but Brendan's still not sure if he's learnt his lesson, has had payback for humiliating Steven. He looks at the boy out of the corner of his eye, expects his reaction to be furious, for him to start accusing Brendan of interfering and getting himself into trouble.
But there's a spark in Steven's eyes. He looks excited, can barely look away.
"Alright you two, that's enough!" Tony comes between them, making Brendan release his hand from around Kevin. Brendan could easily fight him if he wanted to, but there's little point in prolonging this. If he beats the kid up then he'll be put in segregation, and he's not being parted from Steven again.
"It was him - he started it," Kevin protests, sounding like a school kid in the playground. Brendan rolls his eyes. He can't believe that only a few years separate Kevin and Steven, when Steven's his superior in every sense.
"Are you hurt?" Tony asks him, scanning his body for bruises.
Kevin shakes his head but it's slow, deliberately designed to leave that question mark. He's milking this for all it's worth.
Brendan only has eyes for one man now. He looks at Steven, is anxious to make sure that he's okay, both from bearing the brunt of Kevin's insults and from what he just did to the kid.
He's sure that he catches the smile that Steven throws his way.
"Brendan, I want you in my office when the class finishes."
"Sure thing," he drawls, is already beginning to conjure up the excuses he can come up with. Tony's got nothing on him if he hasn't drawn blood or created a mark.
He puts an arm loosely around Steven's shoulder, is about to steer him to the seat that Kevin's vacated.
"You're not coming to today's class."
He takes his arm away. "What?"
"You can come back next week Brendan, if your behaviour doesn't give me cause to believe that you can't stay calm."
He's never wanted to stay in a cookery class so much in his life. He'd imagined a morning spent watching Steven using those talented hands of his, feeding him giant mouthfuls of steaming hot pasta.
"I barely touched the kid! I'm not going to do anything else."
"Please let him stay, Tony. Kevin was winding him up." Steven's voice is lowered, softer than it was before, designed to coerce.
"I'm sorry Ste, but I don't allow any fighting in here. Go back to your cell Brendan, and come to my office at the end of the class."
Brendan gives one last parting look at Steven before he leaves, mouthing it's fine, trying to reassure the boy. He can see concern in Steven's eyes, and it hurts him to see him worry about anything, most of all him.
He doesn't go back to his cell, doesn't even begin to make his way there. The corridor's quiet, and Brendan knows that most of the men will be at the gym or the pool table, and he's not likely to be interrupted.
He looks through the window of the door. It allows him access to Steven's table, and he watches as the boy begins to chop tomatoes for the pasta dish. An officer's keeping a close eye on him while he uses the knife, and Brendan can see how this is only serving to add to Steven's agitation. He looks pissed as hell, clearly resenting the fact that he's under suspicion of potentially hurting someone.
The glare of the officer doesn't stop Steven from throwing glances at Kevin though. Brendan laughs, can't help feeling somewhat proud of the boy, looks like he wants to kill Kevin with his eyes alone. He's chopping harshly with the knife while he regards the kid, and Brendan can read every murderous thought in his head.
He's never had someone be this jealous because of him before. It would ordinarily make him feel stifled, controlled. He's not anyone's property.
But he wouldn't mind belonging to Steven.
He stays outside the door until the class ends. He could watch Steven forever, is almost disappointed when time's up and he sees the men finishing their food.
Brendan leans against the wall away from the window, trying to pretend that he wasn't spying, doesn't want to scare the boy and make him think he can't take his eyes off him, even if that's the case.
Steven comes out first, looks like he's raced out of the classroom before anyone else. His lips are red from the tomato sauce, and Brendan kisses him, transferring the flavour into his own mouth. He doesn't know what's sweeter.
"I must taste all garlicky" Steven complains, covering his mouth when Brendan finally releases him.
"Lucky for you, I happen to like garlic." He's dying to get his lips back to where they most want to be.
"I wish you'd been able to stay."
"Me too," he says honestly. These classes had been nothing more than an excuse for him to have something other than prison food made for him, but ever since Steven arrived they've become a reason for them to spend time together.
"I did manage to get you some leftovers though," Steven says with a grin, and reveals the plastic bag that he's been hiding behind his back.
It's a small gesture, but it somehow knocks the breath out of Brendan. The knowledge that Steven thought about him to that extent makes warmth flood through him.
"Maybe you can feed it to me later." It helps to stop him from saying anything overly sentimental, but he finds he's only half joking, and Steven can tell.
"Maybe I will."
Brendan can now understand where the term bedroom eyes came from, thinks that it must have been invented by this boy.
"Well, duty calls." Brendan gives him another kiss, far too chaste for what he'd like, but there's time for more later. He motions to the classroom, where Tony is.
"Brendan." Steven's holding onto his arm, his grip tight. He's got those frantic, worried eyes again, blue and framed by lashes which are mesmerising. "Don't get into any trouble, yeah? Just...apologise."
"I didn't do anything wrong, Steven." He's convinced of this. If someone hurts Steven then he's not going to stand back and let it happen. It doesn't work like that.
Steven puts a hand through Brendan's hair and strokes it tenderly, his voice purposefully trying to soothe.
"I know you were just looking out for me. But Tony's not going to see it like that, is he?"
Brendan looks behind Steven's shoulder, sees Tony coming out of the classroom. He gives him a nod, gesturing for Brendan to follow him to his office.
He has to be sure that he's not the only one who stays safe here.
Brendan pulls Steven close, whispers in his ear. "Don't do anything to Kevin, yeah? Stay away from him."
He releases the boy, trying to gauge from his expression whether anything he's just said has sunk in. Brendan had seen the steely look of determination and aggression before, knows that Steven's not quite as unlike him as he'd have him think. He'd seen it when Steven had punched Walker, had recognised that jealousy was something that was capable of igniting him.
He's reassured enough by what he sees to leave Steven in the corridor and follow Tony, making sure that he gives the boy a parting look before he disappears from his eye line. A promise of what's to come.
When they reach Tony's office Brendan sits down, feet propped up onto the desk while he slouches in his chair.
Tony gives him a disapproving look.
"This isn't a hotel, Brendan. Feet down."
Brendan sighs, but obeys the order. He just wants to get this over with. He's been here a million times before, feels like he's been called to the headmasters office for a stern telling off. Any fear he once felt over the consequences of his actions has gone, is replaced by an arrogant cockiness, a belief that he's invincible in this place.
Tony gets straight to the point, and for that Brendan's grateful.
"So, do you want to tell me what happened with you and Kevin today? Last week you two seemed close, and now I find you trying to starve the boy of oxygen."
He says close in a way that sparks Brendan's attention, makes him question his assessment of Tony being blind to what's really going on in this place.
He's debating whether to tell the truth or feed Tony more lies.
He surprises himself by saying something real.
"He was having a go at Steven. This...Kevin." He says his name like it's something unpleasant. He feels ashamed for having even contemplated sleeping with the lad. If he'd known back then that Steven had never told Walker anything about Seamus, then he'd have never touched Kevin.
Now he feels like he's got them both into a trap, something that's not proving easy to get out of. Kevin's annoyingly resilient, seems to follow them around like a bad smell.
"What did he say?"
Brendan doesn't want to repeat the insult. It makes him furious just thinking about it, and speaking it out loud would feel like a betrayal of Steven.
He shakes his head non committedly, and Tony looks disappointed, but unsurprised.
"Brendan, I don't think I have to remind you that you haven't got a clean track record."
"And yet you are reminding me, Anthony."
Tony's not in a joking mood today. Usually Brendan can raise a smile out of him, has the effect of making the governor talk to him like they're old friends. But he's not taking the bait, not this time.
"You're still under our investigations for Warren Fox's hospitalisation."
Brendan sits up sharply at this, feels blood rising to the surface of his skin, hot and sticky.
It's news to him. He hasn't heard anything about Warren in a long time, has barely even thought about him. After the initial first weeks of celebrations from the prisoners, his name had seemed to fade without memory.
As far as all the men were concerned, Fox was dead, or as good as. No one had high hopes of him waking up from his coma.
"Who said that I have anything to do with it?" He's surprised by how offended he sounds, as though he's managed to convince even himself that he's an innocent party.
He suddenly wonders if Warren's woken up, if he saw something before Brendan had managed to knock him out with one punch, and he's snitched the whole tale to the officers. He wonders if those destroyed CCTV tapes have made a miraculous recovery, and weren't so destroyed after all.
But Tony's not confident enough for that. If they had firm evidence against him then they would have done something already, not left him in his cell for weeks, free to fuck Steven and able to keep the few privileges that he has in here.
The man's testing him, has nothing solid against him, but he knows. Turns out he's not such an idiot and dreamer after all. He knows Brendan was the one to hurt Warren, and it's floating in the air between them now, unsaid but clouding both their minds.
"Everyone's a suspect until we find out who was responsible, Brendan."
They both know it's bullshit, that Douglas and Ethan are in the clear, that no one's pointing any fingers at Steven. If Brendan wanted to he could accuse Tony of discriminating against him, but even he can't go that far, not when everything he suspects of him is true.
"Is that all? Can I go now?"
"If that happens again in my class then you're out for good."
"It won't." He plans to keep his temper more in check, to wait and keep anymore incidents with Kevin for outside of the class, where no one will be able to save the kid as easily.
He can't risk leaving Steven alone again like that. The boy could do any manner of damage to Kevin, and Brendan would rather have his sentence extended by another ten years than see Steven punished.
Brendan rises from his seat, expecting for the meeting to be adjourned. He has plans, namely one.
He almost twitches in frustration when Tony calls him back. Brendan barely bothers to sit back down in the chair, just perches on the edge.
"You and Ste."
"Steven," Brendan corrects automatically, unable to stop himself. He really wishes that people would understand the importance of real, full names.
Tony ignores him.
"He's a young guy, isn't he? Only twenty three?"
"Point?" He's got a pasta dish back in his cell and said twenty three year old, and he'd like to be devouring both of them right about now.
"He's...vulnerable," Tony says uneasily, and Brendan wonders why he's trying to focus on anything but his eyes right now. "He's still relatively new here."
Brendan has a feeling he knows where this is going. Him being the villain in this, again. The only part that anyone will ever allow him to play. It makes trying to be anything but that extremely difficult, difficult to the point that it's hard to imagine trying.
"I don't think this is any of your business, do you?" He resists the urge to add to know who I'm fucking.
"You know me. I've never been the typical governor."
He can't argue with that. He's never come across another prison governor who dons a chefs hat and runs a cookery class.
"You think I'm going to destroy him?" The words may be melodramatic, but Brendan's aware that with him, it's no exaggeration. It's what he's done before.
"I just don't want another Vinnie on our hands."
No matter how much time passes, the mention of that name always causes a reaction in him. A stab of pain at what he did to the boy, how he was responsible for everything, indirectly or not.
The thought of Steven going the same way as Vincent isn't a possibility. He can't let that happen, may die if it does.
"You don't have to worry about that." He's not used to having to reassure someone like this, but it's as much for his own effort as it is for Tony's. The thoughts have been swimming in his own head too. He's scared of leaving Steven alone for too long in case harm comes to him.
He sees the possibility of killing two birds with one stone. Returning to the cookery classes and making sure the boy is safe.
"In fact, I want to request a transfer." He says it casually, as though his skin's not warming at the thought of him and Steven, alone again. No Ethan nattering in his ear when he's trying to listen to music. No Douglas in the cell with Steven, where he could be poisoning his mind against him.
It's the way things should have always stayed, and he's angry at himself for ever causing the separation to begin with.
Only Tony doesn't seem to have the same idea as him.
"Out of the question."
Brendan's not used to being refused anything. He'd expected this to be easy, as easy as it was to move cells in the first place.
"Excuse me?" His tone is a stark contrast to the politeness of his words. It sounds like he's swearing at him.
"This isn't wife swap, Brendan. We already uprooted everything the first time."
Brendan laughs, failing to see how Tony doesn't realise the ridiculousness of the situation. He thought he was asking him to keep Steven safe, to not push him away like he'd done with Vincent. He can't ensure the boy's protection if he's not with him at night.
The cell doors may be locked, but that won't stop some people from getting in. A man like Simon Walker doesn't give up, and there are plenty of others who would want to get their revenge on Brendan by hurting the thing that means the most to him.
"All you have to do is swap me and the Yank again."
"What happened to you saying that you couldn't live with Ste, that you'd end up hurting him if you did? That it was for his own safety that he be moved?"
Brendan winces at hearing his own words being repeated back to him. He hadn't entirely been lying. If he'd had to stay in the cell with Steven then he was under risk of hurting him, hurting him more than he already had.
"We've...patched things up." He doesn't want to tell Tony the details, but he knows he gets the deeper meaning.
"I'm sorry, but I think it's best that you stay as you are for now. Ste seems settled. He looks happier."
Happier because he's back where he belongs, with the person he belongs with. But Brendan doesn't voice such a sentimental thought.
He rises from the edge of the chair. He's had enough of this now. Tony's not someone he can buy off like he can Darren and the other officers. He can't threaten him, can't beat him up. Even if he could, those days of extreme violence seem strangely behind him all of a sudden, like they existed in another life. He should be concentrating on Walker most of all now, should want to dig him a hole in the ground and lay his body next to Seamus's for his twisted lies.
But if he and Walker were locked in a room, one of them wouldn't come out alive. Fifty fifty odds aren't really Brendan's thing these days. He's got too much to lose.
He doesn't leave a parting gesture, has no inclination to either be polite or to intimidate the man. He can see that Tony has a genuine affection for Steven, and for that he earns a grudging sense of respect from Brendan.
When he leaves the office he immediately makes his way back to the cell, doesn't waver when one of the men nods over to him, motioning for him to join them in their game of pool.
He doesn't know whether he's being lead by his stomach or his dick, but he's outside of Steven's cell in minutes, checking through the window to see if the boy's alone. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees him on his bed, legs crossed. His relief turns to confusion at what Steven's doing.
"I never thought this day would come."
Steven looks up when he enters, frowning.
"What are you on about?"
Brendan gestures to what Steven's holding. "Are you feeling okay?"
In return for his cheek he gets the book hurled at him, and he ducks to narrowly avoid being hit.
He laughs, picking up the book from the floor.
"Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde."
"I saw you had a copy in your cell," Steven says sheepishly, looking like he's been caught smoking by his teacher.
"Aw, that's cute," Brendan mocks. "Wanted to have an in depth discussion of literature with me did you?"
"Shut up." The boy's cheeks are colouring. "There's no point anyway. I can hardly understand any of the words."
Brendan hears Steven mutter stupid under his breath.
"Hey." He strides over to him, tilting his chin towards him so that the boy's looking directly into his eyes. "You're not stupid."
He wills Steven to believe this the same way that he does.
"Who did you get this from, anyway?" He already knows the answer. There's only one person who Tony's hired as the librarian here.
"That Silas guy - you know, the one from Tony's class."
"Stay away from him."
Steven laughs at the sudden intensity in his voice. He's still naive to the way that things are in here, doesn't realise that when Brendan says stay away it's no idle threat.
"He's just an old man."
"Yeah, an old man who's in here for killing young girls and stealing their jewellery as a calling card." He feels sick at the thought, has seen the way that Silas's eyes glaze over Cheryl when she visits, clearly disapproving of her short skirts, low cut tops and make up.
"If you need any books in the future, let me get them for you."
"I don't think you have to worry about that." Steven stares at the book in Brendan's hand, looking at it like it's about to form teeth and bite him. "It was a ridiculous idea."
"Then why did you do it?" He wasn't meant to say that out loud.
Steven shrugs his shoulders. "I just wanted to...I don't know." The boy squirms uncomfortably.
He does know though. Brendan can tell.
"What?" He probes, voice low to encourage him.
"Impress you." Steven looks acutely embarrassed, and Brendan feels a pang of guilt, feels like he's just dragged the words out of the boy, kicking and screaming.
"You already impress me." He places a hand on Steven's thigh, repeating what the boy had done to him earlier.
"I don't mean...not just that. Not just when we're..." He raises his eyebrows. "You know."
"Fucking?" He sees no point in being prude, hasn't been his whole life and isn't going to start now.
"I don't want that to be the only reason that you're with me."
Fucking hell. Is that what the boy really thinks?
"Steven. I'm not going to tell you that that isn't part of the attraction, because it is. You're hot in bed." He watches as Steven basks under the compliment like it's the sun filling his body with warmth. "But that's not the only reason."
"What are the other reasons?" Steven smirks. He's definitely fishing here, but Brendan senses that it's also important to him.
"You've got a fuckable little arse." Brendan's eyes travel down to it. "Soft skin that tastes..." His lips go to it, kissing against Steven's cheek. "Delicious," he finishes, inhaling the boy's scent for good measure. "These eyelashes that drive me crazy..." He reaches out and brushes his fingertips over them, Steven closing his eyes to assist him. "And a cock that -"
"Brendan!" Steven scolds, pulling away sharply. "These are all physical things!"
What does he want him to say? Start spouting poetry about how much he loves spending time with him? That's not Brendan.
But Steven's face is full of hope, and he can't let him down like that.
"That annoying laugh of yours can be...okay. Sometimes."
"Sometimes?" Steven says, hint of a smile on his lips.
"Don't get carried away. And that...thing you do, where you tell people exactly what you're thinking, even me. That's...alright. It can be...charming. Different."
He can't believe he's saying this.
"And your cooking, that's pretty good too. In fact, I wouldn't mind having some of it right now."
Steven gets the message, goes over to the desk and gets the tupperware box out from the carrier bag, equipped with two sets of plastic knives and forks.
He settles back onto the bed, and it occurs to Brendan that this may be the closest thing that he's had to a picnic in years. He never thought he would enjoy something like this, but it feels good. More natural than he would have believed possible.
They eat in silence at first, both too hungry to talk. The pasta's amazing. Brendan knows that Steven and Tony must have done most of the cooking and preparation. Some of the men are capable of rustling up an omelette or a cake if they put their brains to it, but this tastes like something you'd get at a restaurant.
Steven laughs at the way that Brendan spills most the sauce down his chin.
"Scoop it up for me then," Brendan challenges, and Steven extends a finger. "Who said anything about your hands?"
Steven hesitates for less than a second before leaning forward, his wet and pink tongue sticking out. He giggles but then seems to lose his inhibitions, lapping at the sauce around Brendan's moustache and stubble with fervour.
"You're disgusting, asking me to do that," Steven says when he draws back, but he doesn't sound disgusted.
"Ever think about opening a restaurant, Steven?" He asks, chewing his last mouthful of pasta.
The boy looks at him like he's just developed wings.
"Are you kidding? Me, run a restaurant? Who would come? I'd probably burn the place down."
"You're a brilliant cook." It's not a lie. He wouldn't be dishonest with the boy, has no reason to boost others egos with false sentiments.
"Even if that were true, how would I deal with the money, the accounts? I don't know the first thing about running a business."
Brendan's about to tell him that he'll help him, when he realises that he can't.
"You could run it with someone. Find a partner." A strictly platonic partner.
Steven shakes his head resolutely, giving up on the idea before he's even considered it. The lack of faith is startling to Brendan, can't understand why someone who has the world at their feet is drowning themselves.
He hates what Steven's parents did to him. Hates how he could have done that to Declan and Paddy, even in the short time that they were together. He hopes they won't grow up to have such a destructive opinion of who they are.
"Where are you going?" Steven asks when Brendan makes his way towards the door.
"I've got to go and pay a visit to Osborne." He still owes him the money for last night, and he doesn't want to risk Darren telling anyone about their little arrangement if he doesn't cough up. "I'll be back later tonight."
"Wait." The boy pulls on his sleeve, almost falling off the bed to do so. "Doug will be here by then. I don't think you and him being together is a good idea."
"Don't worry. I've got a plan."
He leaves the cell with a wink.
Brendan's plan consists of waiting outside Steven's cell until he sees Douglas leave. The minute he sees the American moving down the corridor he walks out from his hiding place, quickly opening the cell door and startling the boy. Steven's used Douglas's absence to change into his pajamas, and Brendan smiles at how baggy they are on him, look like they're swallowing him whole.
"What are you doing in here?" Insolent. Pouting.
"I told you I'd be back."
"Yeah, but Doug's just gone to see Ethan quickly. He'll be back any second, and if he finds you in here -"
"Relax." Brendan puts his hands on Steven's shoulders, fingers rubbing against their pressure points. "Osborne's not working tonight, so looks like I'll be sleeping in my own cell. I just thought that before lockdown we could..."
He kisses Steven, showing him exactly what the could consists of.
"No way. There's not enough time."
"That's why it's called a quickie." Their kiss is deeper this time, Brendan attempting to show the boy exactly what he'd be missing.
"We really shouldn't."
But he can hear how weak Steven's protests are, how it'll only take another kiss to make his resistance collapse entirely.
He settles for pushing the boy down onto the push with a heavy oomph. Whether Steven will admit it or not, he loves being shown who's boss.
Brendan crawls on top of him, laughing into Steven's mouth. He can still taste the hint of garlic and onions from the pasta, and he licks across Steven's lips, the sensation heady and irresistible.
"You're so bad," Steven says, making a clawing gesture with his hand across Brendan's chest, digging into his shirt.
The irony of his sentence makes Brendan smile. If anything he struggles to keep up with Steven's carnal nature.
He decides to play along instead.
"Want me to remind you just how bad I can be?"
He expects Steven to laugh, but his breathing turns increasingly shallow, and his legs wrap around Brendan's waist, the soles of his feet rubbing against his back.
"Please."
Brendan can't believe how easily he's managed to erase any thoughts of Douglas from the boy's mind. Moments ago he looked ready to throw him out of the cell, and now he's gyrating his hole against Brendan's groin.
Brendan reaches into his jeans pocket, pulling out a handful of condom wrappers.
"New supplier?" Steven guesses, eyeing them like they're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
"New supplier." He doesn't reveal that he snuck into Walker's cell earlier and stole almost a lifetime's supply from his hiding place. The man could open his own Durex factory.
He lifts Steven's t-shirt up, craving the skin on skin contact. His mouth goes straight to the boy's nipples, tongue swirling over them. He's learnt that they're sensitive spots for him, that if he concentrates enough on them then he can give the boy a semi.
Luckily for Brendan, a lot of areas on Steven's body seem to be sensitive spots.
"All the better to fuck you with."
"Does that make me little red riding hood?" Steven asks, stroking Brendan's hair while his tongue moves lower.
Brendan cuts off, staring up at him.
"I read it to the kids" he explains. He giggles. "Now I'm just imagining you as the big bad wolf. You're hairy enough to be him."
"Oh yeah?" Brendan cocks an eyebrow, then guides Steven's hand over the buckle of his jeans, down into his boxers. Steven's fingers ghost along his shaft, brushing against his pubic hairs. "Like that, do you?"
"Maybe."
"It's very distracting when you do that, you know."
"What?"
"Bite your lip." Brendan stares down at Steven's mouth, at the fullness of it. He traces a hand over it. "Perfect blowjob lips."
"Maybe we should put that to the test. Just to remind you."
"Oh yeah?" The thought's making his cock strain in his trousers. Steven senses his frustration, rubs a hand over the head of his dick and gently squeezes.
"Yeah. And maybe you should bite my lip for me." Steven's eyes are coy, but there's no false question there. He's not suggesting it. He's demanding it.
Brendan dips his head forward, taking the boy's lip between his teeth and tugging at it. Steven hisses, but it's not in protest. His hold over Brendan's dick strengths, and his face becomes slack with pleasure.
Brendan tastes blood in his mouth, sees the droplet of red on Steven's lips.
"Sorry," he says, transferring it to his finger.
He's not truly sorry though, not when this is exactly what the boy had wanted. He grins at Brendan, looking satisfied and like this is just the start.
Steven's hand comes out of the waistband of Brendan's boxers, and he begins to undo his jeans with strong, confident fingers.
Brendan's not used to being the one who's naked first, the man in front of him still fully dressed. He doesn't feel any urgency to cover up though, especially not when Steven's gaze on him is heated. He feels desired.
He takes off his shirt, gives the boy something to really look at.
"Get on me." It's meant to come out as a command, but his voice is already frayed at the edges.
Only Steven's capable of making him feel this free.
Steven shuffles out of his pajama bottoms. Brendan would prefer for his stomach and chest to be exposed too, likes to watch the way it heaves and contracts and relaxes when he's riding him, but the whole point of this is that they're quick, that they avoid being caught by Douglas.
They're not quick enough.
When Steven tells him to get under the covers he does so immediately, knowing what it means. He listens to the sound of the door opening, hears the familiar movement of Douglas's footsteps on the floor.
Suddenly the sound stops.
"Are you alright?"
Brendan tries not to breathe.
"Yeah, of course I am." Steven laughs uneasily. Brendan can't help but smile at the idea of his flushed cheeks and panting breaths.
"You just look a bit..."
"I'm fine, Doug."
"Okay, okay!" Brendan can imagine him holding up his hands in defense. "I'm going to get an early night, I'm exhausted. Speak to you tomorrow."
Brendan waits underneath the sheet, listening to the rustling sound of what he assumes must be Douglas changing into his pajamas. It's ten or so minutes until the light is dimmed, and Steven's face appears next to his, both of them covered.
"You have to get out of here." He's whispering so quietly that he can barely hear him.
Brendan's already made his decision.
"Think I'll hang around, actually."
Steven looks at him in horror. "What?"
"You've made my dick hard, Steven - are you honestly going to leave me with no relief?" He makes a wounded expression.
"Go back to your cell and wank yourself off then!" The boy's being stubborn, feisty. Exactly how Brendan most likes him.
If this is a plan to make him go away then it's backfired. Badly.
He's determined not to leave this room without fucking the boy, and from the way Steven's staring at him, he's pretty sure that hidden underneath his anger is that determination too.