Dinner was tasty, as usual. Brendan was beginning to quite look forward to Blue Zone meal days.

'Food's good again,' Warren echoed his thoughts. It was just the two of them tonight, Walker was on his way to Russia with a group of Orange and Red Zoners and Brendan had sent Macca for a night out in Dublin with a few of the girls from Violet Zone. It was Brendan's way of making up for the fact they were fighting a lot recently, but it was also a way to get rid of the idiot for a few hours and that was nice too.

'That Steven lad can cook,' Brendan agreed.

'Joel helps,' Warren insisted, but it was just the predictable pro-Joel nonsense Brendan expected from him.

'I don't think I even know which one Joel is,' Brendan dismissed. He was relatively sure Joel was one of the lads in Steven's house, but he wasn't sure if he was the Scot, or the druggy.

'You don't really know who any of them are,' Warren pointed out, a huge globule of melted cheese falling slowly from the corner of his mouth. 'Apart from your precious Steven, of course.'

'I know Mark, Will, Silas, Gilbert, Darren,' he said naming a few Red and Orange Zoners. He couldn't have actually picked any of those people out of a crowd, but he'd seen them on the list of people going to Russia and it shut Warren up, so that was probably enough. They ate in silence for a few moments, watching over The Estate.

People were throwing the food, which was a waste when it was actually edible. Some of them were dropping cups, everyone ate with plastic knives and folks because Brendan could trust the people in the estate not to knife each other. It was pretty normal, except his attention kept being drawn to the Blue Zone table and Steven, who was chatting away happily with the other younger lads from the zone. He looked happy and relaxed and, Brendan noticed, a special kind of handsome.

'You're in charge tonight, Foxy,' he said, sipping carefully on his Guinness. He'd felt like a treat and the weather felt like it had turned and was warming up a little as they began the uphill climb into spring. 'I'm taking Douglass and a few of the other lads in to Dublin.'

'Haven't done that for a while.'

'Well I've got to pick Macca and the girls up,' Brendan frowned. It was such an inconvenience. He just shouldn't have let Macca go. The lad would have come around eventually, he always did. 'And O'Shaughnessy's decided he wants to see Douglass again.'

'Hasn't requested him in a while.'

'Seems he's gone off the wee yank. Shame,' he scowled. 'I liked the idea of having an inside man.'

'Except all that really happens is O'Shaughnessy is inside your man.'

Brendan paused, considered what Warren had just said and then looked over semi-suspiciously, before deadpanning:

'That's very clever.' Warren managed to look a little smug. 'But tell me, Foxy, what makes you so sure it's that way round?'

'Gays, innit.' This was going to be mildly offensive. 'There's always a girly one.'

'There's always a…. Brilliant. Brilliant,' he scorned turning back to the Blue Zone table and trying to pick out a group to take pickpocketing. He had to change the subject or he'd stab Warren with his plastic knife just to test his "plastic cutlery" theory. 'I'm going to take the minivan into town.'

'We never take the minivan anywhere.'

'That's because it's a death trap,' Brendan sighed. 'But if I'm picking Macca and the Violet Zoners up, and taking Douglas in to O'Shaughnessy's and still hoping to take a few Blue Zoners to make me some money, I'm going to need more than the five-seater BMW.'

Warren gave a curt nod and picked up his beer bottle and muttered: 'Still a death trap.'

'Hmmm.'

'So I'm in charge then, while you're away.'

'I'm the boss Walker,' Brendan said firmly. 'I'm always in charge, you know that.' He patted him heartily on the back and got to his feet. 'I've got to go choose me some boys.'

'Not the first time you've said that,' Warren scorned, shoving his remaining wedges into his mouth. Brendan just ignored him and walked down the steps onto the grass. Whenever he mingled among the Zoners, there was always this eerie hush. They were all terrified off him, well, mostly, and they all held him up as some kind of leader and devil-like figure. He enjoyed the attention as her swept through the tables until he reached Blue Zone.

'You,' he pointed to a boy with thick eyebrows and a leather jacket. 'You,' he pointed to a boy he hardly recognised at all with floppy hair. 'You two,' the pair of London council rat scum. 'You,' he pointed to Douglass. 'Aaaand,' he drawled, looking around the boys at his disposal. 'You,' he finally pointed at Steven. 'Be outside my house at half ten and look smart. We're going to Dublin.'

Ste had taken his time getting to the vehicle. He'd thought that if he got there later than the others, he'd have to sit in the front seat and it would be less suspicious than jumping into the front seat earlier. It was a good plan, until he arrived at the house to see Brendan stood angrily next to a minibus.

'You're taking liberties, Steven,' Brendan hissed, grabbing Ste's sleeve and propelling him into the back of the bus. He collided awkwardly with a number of empty seats and barely had time to sit down before Brendan had torn off away from The Estate.

'Bloody hell,' Joel whispered, once the noise of the engine was safely drowning out any chance of Brendan hearing them. 'You're lucky he waited for you. Last time someone was that late, Brendan put them in the office and cable tied a watch to both their arms.'

'He must be in a good mood,' Ste shrugged.

'Yeah, that'll be it,' Doug smiled knowingly, but the other boys didn't pick up on what Doug was suggesting. Spike just grunted:

'Speaking of good moods.' He punched Doug on the shoulder. 'Man, you can tell which one of us is getting laid tonight.'

'He's been goofy all evening,' Mickey groaned in agreement. They'd clearly made up since the fiasco in the kitchen earlier.

'Hey Doug, Spickey,' Joel said, beckoning the House 16 boys closer so he could whisper to them. Ste could probably have leant over and joined the secret conversation had he wanted too, but he was too busy watching Brendan's face in the rear-view mirror. For a second, he thought he'd glanced back at him, but the Irishman just muttered:

'Stop plotting lads.'

Joel and the others jumped apart immediately, but they were all grinning and glancing over at new-boy Rhys. Ste could only imagine Joel was encouraging them to do Rhys' stupid initiation soon.

The journey felt like it took forever. It was a vaguely familiar trip now. Ste had made it three times. He quite liked the drive into Dublin. He liked the gaelic words on the signs. It felt familiar and foreign. Dublin was a nice city, not too big like Manchester, but there were a few more gullible tourists than Chester.

The van was coughing and spluttering its way down the streets. They were drawing attention from the people on the streets, but they probably just looked like some kind of team from Dublin City University. It wasn't long before the van was snivelling to a halt outside O'Shaughnessy's club.

'Douglass,' was all Brendan said, and the yank climbed out, with a quick: 'Thank you.'

Brendan didn't acknowledge the thanks, he just pulled away and continued to drive into the touristy area of the city.

'Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle dumber,' Brendan muttered towards the London lads. 'Get out.'

They did as they were told and now there were just three Blue Zoners left in the van. They didn't drive much further before they stopped again.

'Jock,' Brendan scowled at Joel. 'Take the new-boy,' he didn't even look at Rhys, just jerked a thumb in his general direction. 'Don't let him get caught,' was the warning.

'Yes Brendan,' Joel nodded, pushing Rhys out of the minivan ahead of him. He shut the door firmly, but Ste could see the look of concern on his face. He was worried about Ste, about what Brendan might do to him. But of all the things Joel might be imagining, he thought the truth would probably shock the Scottish boy more.

Brendan said nothing. He just started the minivan up again and drove back towards Temple Bar, where they'd dropped off Spike and Mickey. He was completely silent and it made Ste fidgety. He wanted to know what Brendan had planned for him. He shuffled about in his seat until he thought he might explode.

'Brendan, where are we going?'

No reply.

He tried again: 'Brendan.'

And again: 'Bren.'

The silence felt warm like embarrassment and Ste found himself sliding forward into the seats closer to the driver and trying again:

'Brendan. Where are we going?'

'Quiet Steven,' was the only response he was granted. 'I'm looking for something.'

Ste did what Brendan asked. He just sat back in his seat and looked out the window. His breath was fogging up the glass and he couldn't help himself from drawing a little face in the steam. He felt oddly relaxed around Brendan, but he couldn't say why; stupidity probably?

Eventually, Brendan had parked the rusty old van and got out. Ste had followed him uncertainly. He was wearing the clothes he'd been given in Barcelona and he felt kind of sophisticated and important, and people glanced at them as they walked along the street. Ste had never cared what people thought about him, but he couldn't help wonder what people thought when they saw him and Brendan together. He just pulled his coat around him and jogged a little to keep up with Brendan's long stride.

'Where are we, eh?' Ste asked, once he'd caught up. They were weaving their way through drunken students and locals, who were mingling and partying together easily.

'Anne's place,' Brendan said suddenly grabbing Ste's arm and pulling him into the porch of a building. There was a fancy looking keypad at the side of the door and Brendan tapped a number in quickly and held the door open for Ste. Ste walked in steadily, looking around at the modern expensive looking décor of the buildings reception area.

'Close your mouth, Steven,' Brendan snapped, marching over to the lift and punching the "call lift" button several times with his finger. 'Come on,' he was muttering, he seemed pretty impatient now.

'Nice this, innit,' Ste thought aloud as the lift arrived.

'Yeah, great,' Brendan agreed, practically dragging Steven into the lift.

'Alright,' Ste groaned, as he found himself almost falling. 'Bloody hell. What's wrong with you, eh?'

But he only had to take one look into Brendan's face to understand the lust and want and need that was raging behind those blue eyes and Brendan only quirked his head in response and took half a step closer to Ste.

'Oh,' he whispered, and Brendan was kissing him before his brain had managed to think anything else. The lift doors opening were an inconvenience, the walk from the lift to Anne's apartment was longer than it should have been, the stumble to Anne's bedroom a step too far. They only made it as far as the sofa, and Ste didn't regret anything.

They'd moved to the bedroom eventually. It was more comfortable to lie there to get your breath back and Brendan had always taken a sick kind of pleasure screwing in Anne's bed, even with her permission. Brendan was on his back, ivory skin covered in a sheen of sweat. Ste was insatiable; Brendan was exhausted. Ste was lead across him, occasionally pressing his lips to Brendan's hairy chest. Ste smelt of hair gel, and aftershave and sex and Brendan couldn't help pressing his nose to Steven's hair to better breathe him in.

'I like it,' Ste murmur quietly. 'When it's just us like.'

'Hmmm,' Brendan mumbled, because he wasn't going to admit that he liked it when it was just the two of them too.

'But you know,' Ste continued, rolling a little on to his stomach, running his hand through the hair on Brendan's chest, 'when I get back to The Estate, like, and I see Macca, or Rae … I always feel dead guilty.'

'Well … don't,' Brendan suggested. It was that simple, wasn't it?

'I can't help it,' Ste said. ''Cause I'll be with Rae and she'll be talking about her being an actress and me being a chef,' Brendan snorted, he couldn't help it. Ste just blushed a little and stopped.

'They all want to be actresses, Steven,' Brendan murmured.

'Oh, right, yeah. But she's really good, I know she is but whenever we, you know, do it … I always just feel bad because I think about all the times me and you….'

'Steven,' Brendan said steadily, running his fingers up and down Steven's bare forearm. 'Are you trying to tell me, you think of me when you're having sex with your girlfriend?'

'No,' he said quickly. Too quickly. 'I'm just saying. I feel bad, because I like Rae.' Brendan snorted again, but he felt no need to explain himself and Ste was already insisting: 'I do.'

'I know.'

'And I don't wanna leave her if this isn't going to work.'

'Woah,' Brendan suddenly found the energy he'd been lacking moments before, sitting up and tipping Steven off him. 'Leave her? What are you talking about?'

'About "us",' Steven continued. 'I can't keep doing this to Rae, but I could leave her … and you could leave Macca and….'

'Leave Macca,' Brendan interrupted immediately. 'Now, what makes you think I wanna do that?'

'You're here with me aren't you,' he pointed out. And annoyingly, he added: 'again.'

'So, what? You think that makes us boyfriends?' He snapped. 'What fantasy world do you live in Steven?'

'I just thought…'

'Don't think, Steven,' Brendan warned, cruelly. 'It's not your strong point.'

And where Macca would have turned his back and sulked, licking his wounds like a pathetic puppy, Steven shot back:

'And just what do you mean by that, eh? I'm good enough for sex, but not good enough for conversation, is that it?'

Brendan could have said "yes", could have ended this weird affair he was having with Steven and gone back to Macca, but the fire in the boy ahead of him, the fight in him drove Brendan crazy and he heard himself speaking the truth, which was a horrible habit he'd developed around Steven:

'That's not it.' And: 'I can't leave Macca, he needs me.'

'And what if I need you, eh?' Steven demanded, getting out of bed and pulling his boxers. 'What if something happens, like with Lawrence?'

'I was there for you, wasn't I?' Brendan demanded, also getting out of the bed and pulling his trousers on. He wouldn't allow himself to be vulnerable and naked in front of the lad. 'I came in, I took him away, for you. I kicked him out of The Estate, for you. Bought cinema tickets for you, booked a taxi for you, gave you a night out in Dublin.' He was shouting now:

'It was all for you, Steven.' He paused. 'For Christ's sake,' he hit his chest and threw his arms sideways, 'what more do you want from me?'

Steven just ran at him and kissed him hard.

It was all so flaming easy.

Late night updating is foolish, so this is probably littered with mistakes which I apologise endlessly for.

Huge Chapter next - like HUGE! Hopefully see you there.

xx