My first Stendan Fic
Ste is staying with Cheryl now that Brendan is in prison. But Brendan has now been released without anybody knowing.
It had been like a dream. How he crept, so ghostlike. How his body moved so soft, silent and sincerely around the bedroom, and the eyes Ste thought about so often were suddenly so close - piercing into his own. In the dead of night it was, and Ste was slow from alcohol, tiredness. He could well have been dreaming, but right then and there it didn’t matter at all.
When Ste moved in with Cheryl there had been scepticism. It was a foolish idea; typically weak of him when he was trying so hard to forget Brendan, to move on. Brendan was in prison now - a life sentence - Ste never had to see him again. Amy said it was the best thing that could have happened for him. It didn’t feel like it now, she said, but things were better this way. Ste could finally get on with his life.
But sleeping in Brendan’s room night after night… it made the memories harder to push aside. The scent of him wafting on the pillow, his aftershave on the side, his comb, his clothes in the wardrobe… everything just as he left it. Ste found himself nestling beneath the duvet covers, wrapping himself inside them, not knowing why, needing to stop but not wanting to. He was torturing himself, and he knew it. But he couldn’t help himself.
Naturally, Ste dreamt of Brendan so often that he wasn’t even surprised - didn’t even question it - when the man himself was sinking into the covers beside him. The man who was in jail, who was gone forever, was now here. So surreal it was that it couldn’t be true. And so it wasn’t treated as such.
“Stephen…” his voice was hoarse and whispered gently. Even in the darkness, his blue eyes were intense and captivating; sucking the breath from Ste’s throat, the wind from his stomach.
Ste reached his hand up… trembling fingers that hovered in midair, and then found their way to the new beard that had grown onto this familiar face. His fingertips traced it. It almost felt real.
“What are you doing here?” Another hoarse voice. Ste didn’t even know whether he’d said it himself, or whether Brendan had. It didn’t matter. No one could speak now because now Ste was feeling lips against his own. Pushing down, soft then hard. The desperation transferred from his hammering heart to his shaking tongue, as both moaned needily for one another.
So like a dream, it was. How with such graceful ease, the blurred outline of Brendan Brady was climbing inside the bed; his clothed body pressing hard against Ste’s half-naked one. The heavy silence of the room save the gentle shuffle of clothes being removed, breathes being taken. The unreal ringing in Ste’s ears as he felt the long-awaited sensation of Brendan pushing inside of him.
And the room was spinning in some slow and surreal manner. Watery eyes meeting watery eyes and longing sigh meeting lustful moan. And Brendans’ hands cupping Ste’s face, and grasping his hair - the strange mixture of rough and soft that made up the texture of his palms.
Ste grasped Brendan’s hand tightly in his own… and only in that moment when he held so fiercely did he sense the reality of this situation. How Brendan, on top of him, inside of him, all around him, holding him… was real. Was really here.
Brendan responded to Ste’s small strained whimper of pleasure and confusion with nothing but a kiss on the forehead. No words of consolation, no explanation - somehow it wasn’t needed. Their hands were clasped so tightly it hurt; knuckles sinking into knuckles and nails into skin. Ste’s breaths becoming laboured as the sweat on his bouncing chest caressed Brendans skin once more. It felt like any minute they’d both stop breathing; breaths becoming harder and harder to take until they abandoned any need for it; and suffocated one another in a desperate kiss, as they came together.
And then after that, Brendan just let Stephen go back to sleep. So much there was that he wanted to say; so much he’d been thinking about inside that prison cell; willing himself and building the courage to tell Stephen all of it………
But now he would let him rest. Only fair to let him be sober and awake before truly taking in that Brendan was back in his life. It wasn’t fair on him really; Brendan had planned to let him go and let him move on, had PAINED over the decision and PROMISED himself he’d leave Stephen alone……… he hadn’t expected him to be here, in his bed.
And now for Stephen’s warm breath to be tickling the skin of Brendans neck as he slept. His eyebrows quivering in confusion as his dreams muddled and synergised themselves with reality. The heavy weight of the world falling all around them, as it always did; hard on their shoulders. But little did it matter now, wrapped in the darkness of this private world Brendan liked to have Ste in.
Ste let out a small sigh in his sleep; the weight of the situation haunting him even in his dreamland. Brendan wanted to tell him it would be okay; they could be together, Brendan wanted to make Ste happy, and this time he’d do everything in his power to change and make it be so. He wanted to tell him that, but he didn’t think Ste could be lied to anymore.
So instead he did the only thing he wasn’t too cowardly for; hold him in this private dreamlike sanctuary. And whisper his small apology that he’d probably be messing the boys life all over again.
It had been like a dream. How he crept, so ghostlike. How his body moved so soft, silent and sincerely around the bedroom, and the eyes Ste thought about so often were suddenly so close - piercing into his own. In the dead of night it was, and Ste was slow from alcohol, tiredness. He could well have been dreaming, but right then and there it didn’t matter at all.
When Ste moved in with Cheryl there had been scepticism. It was a foolish idea; typically weak of him when he was trying so hard to forget Brendan, to move on. Brendan was in prison now - a life sentence - Ste never had to see him again. Amy said it was the best thing that could have happened for him. It didn’t feel like it now, she said, but things were better this way. Ste could finally get on with his life.
But sleeping in Brendan’s room night after night… it made the memories harder to push aside. The scent of him wafting on the pillow, his aftershave on the side, his comb, his clothes in the wardrobe… everything just as he left it. Ste found himself nestling beneath the duvet covers, wrapping himself inside them, not knowing why, needing to stop but not wanting to. He was torturing himself, and he knew it. But he couldn’t help himself.
Naturally, Ste dreamt of Brendan so often that he wasn’t even surprised - didn’t even question it - when the man himself was sinking into the covers beside him. The man who was in jail, who was gone forever, was now here. So surreal it was that it couldn’t be true. And so it wasn’t treated as such.
“Stephen…” his voice was hoarse and whispered gently. Even in the darkness, his blue eyes were intense and captivating; sucking the breath from Ste’s throat, the wind from his stomach.
Ste reached his hand up… trembling fingers that hovered in midair, and then found their way to the new beard that had grown onto this familiar face. His fingertips traced it. It almost felt real.
“What are you doing here?” Another hoarse voice. Ste didn’t even know whether he’d said it himself, or whether Brendan had. It didn’t matter. No one could speak now because now Ste was feeling lips against his own. Pushing down, soft then hard. The desperation transferred from his hammering heart to his shaking tongue, as both moaned needily for one another.
So like a dream, it was. How with such graceful ease, the blurred outline of Brendan Brady was climbing inside the bed; his clothed body pressing hard against Ste’s half-naked one. The heavy silence of the room save the gentle shuffle of clothes being removed, breathes being taken. The unreal ringing in Ste’s ears as he felt the long-awaited sensation of Brendan pushing inside of him.
And the room was spinning in some slow and surreal manner. Watery eyes meeting watery eyes and longing sigh meeting lustful moan. And Brendans’ hands cupping Ste’s face, and grasping his hair - the strange mixture of rough and soft that made up the texture of his palms.
Ste grasped Brendan’s hand tightly in his own… and only in that moment when he held so fiercely did he sense the reality of this situation. How Brendan, on top of him, inside of him, all around him, holding him… was real. Was really here.
Brendan responded to Ste’s small strained whimper of pleasure and confusion with nothing but a kiss on the forehead. No words of consolation, no explanation - somehow it wasn’t needed. Their hands were clasped so tightly it hurt; knuckles sinking into knuckles and nails into skin. Ste’s breaths becoming laboured as the sweat on his bouncing chest caressed Brendans skin once more. It felt like any minute they’d both stop breathing; breaths becoming harder and harder to take until they abandoned any need for it; and suffocated one another in a desperate kiss, as they came together.
And then after that, Brendan just let Stephen go back to sleep. So much there was that he wanted to say; so much he’d been thinking about inside that prison cell; willing himself and building the courage to tell Stephen all of it………
But now he would let him rest. Only fair to let him be sober and awake before truly taking in that Brendan was back in his life. It wasn’t fair on him really; Brendan had planned to let him go and let him move on, had PAINED over the decision and PROMISED himself he’d leave Stephen alone……… he hadn’t expected him to be here, in his bed.
And now for Stephen’s warm breath to be tickling the skin of Brendans neck as he slept. His eyebrows quivering in confusion as his dreams muddled and synergised themselves with reality. The heavy weight of the world falling all around them, as it always did; hard on their shoulders. But little did it matter now, wrapped in the darkness of this private world Brendan liked to have Ste in.
Ste let out a small sigh in his sleep; the weight of the situation haunting him even in his dreamland. Brendan wanted to tell him it would be okay; they could be together, Brendan wanted to make Ste happy, and this time he’d do everything in his power to change and make it be so. He wanted to tell him that, but he didn’t think Ste could be lied to anymore.
So instead he did the only thing he wasn’t too cowardly for; hold him in this private dreamlike sanctuary. And whisper his small apology that he’d probably be messing the boys life all over again.