Imprisonment (Part of the 'Held Captive' series)
Title: Imprisonment (Part of the 'Held Captive' series)
Story Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Hollyoaks
Pairing: Ste/Brendan
Word Count: 1646 words
Disclaimer: I don't own the folk in Chester. If I did, Hollyoaks wouldn't be shown pre-watershed.
Summary: AU set in prison. In which Ste tries to avoid Brendan but doesn't succeed.
Notes: I wrote some more! I'm going to write these as snippets from the same universe rather than sequential chapters. For the ste_brendan Prison Prompt.
Other Chapters: Held Captive | Gangbanger | Vinnie | Imprisonment | Black and Blue
Link:
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Imprisonment
(Part of the 'Held Captive' series)
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
previous section | next section
The awkward thing about prison was that despite your greatest efforts, you couldn't really fully ignore another inmate. You were locked in with these people like a twisted version of a dysfunctional family where some members quietly adapted to prison life while the rest tried shanking everything in sight.
Ste fell into the former category. Everyone else seemed to fall into the latter.
Even Brendan Brady, who Ste had been trying avoid like the plague for the past few days, didn't really try to ingratiate himself to anyone in the prison, not even his own gang. One minute he would be laughing with one of his men, the next they'd be lying unconscious on the floor with a broken nose and no one would have the faintest idea what had set Brady off.
It was why everyone was terrified of him. It was why Danny Houston was coming after Ste and it was why Ste was cowering in his cell, wishing he had never got himself tangled up with the man in the first place.
Trying to escape Brendan, however, was about as probable as trying to escape the prison itself.
When the Irishman wasn't surrounded by his thugs in the courtyard, he was blocking the hallway leading to the cafeteria or leaning back against the rec room pool table as Warren Fox hustled some poor unsuspecting schmuck.
Brendan Brady was everywhere and Ste knew it was only a matter of time until their paths crossed again. What Ste didn't expect was for it to happen when he was in the middle of showering.
He had been especially careful that day, too, ducking in with his head low and his body shrinking against the walls. Ste had even hidden behind the girth of a particularly large inmate, using the man's copious width as cover so he could slide under a shower head undetected.
Unfortunately for Ste, even obese shields couldn't fool Brendan Brady.
"Stephen."
Almost jumping out of his skin at the sound of the voice, the bar of soap in Ste's hand escaped his fingers and skidded across the slippery floor.
Brendan lazily looked down at where it landed against his bare toes. It looked a rather pitiful sight.
"Well well well," he murmured as he raised his eyes from the floor to roam shamelessly up over Ste's form. Idly nibbling on the tip of his finger, Brendan's eyes flickered between the bar of soap to the swell of Ste's backside, his leer almost penetrating. "How convenient."
And damn if that voice didn't go straight to Ste's groin.
"B-Brendan..." Ste managed to stutter out when his voice returned to him, turning to face him and stumbling as he did. His feet slipped on the wet floor, making his shoulder blades smack hard against cold tiles.
Ste gulped. He was trapped.
From the gleam of triumph Ste could see in his eye, Brendan knew this, too.
"You've been avoiding me, Stephen," Brendan said, his voice soft and menacing as he prowled closer. "Why?"
Underneath the shower water, Ste could feel his palms prickling with sweat.
"I-I haven't..." he lied unconvincingly, trying to look subtle as he searched for an exit. When exactly had everyone else cleared the room?
Looking at the closed door in the corner, Ste's heart thumped painfully against his ribs. There was no way he could get to it before Brendan.
"You look scared, Stephen. Are you scared?" Brendan asked huskily, suddenly a fraction away from Ste's ear and towering over him. Back straight and supremely confident in his own nudity, Brendan's boldness made Ste lower his head coyly and slink back into himself. He felt little more than skin and bone in comparison.
"I'm-I'm not scared," Ste stammered, feeling his blush stain down to his torso.
Brendan briefly let out a dry chuff of amused laughter at this before lifting his thumb to trail it possessively down Ste's collarbone. Ste's breathing hitched, mesmerised by the digit as it slowly traced down his pectoral and lightly brushed his nipple.
"I think it's your lies that hurt the most, Stephen," Brendan drawled, not looking hurt in the slightest. What he looked was as intense and hungry as a predator mid-hunt, tilting its head and sizing up its prey.
And Ste had never felt so exposed in his entire life.
Swallowing hard, Ste pressed himself into the wall and tried to place as much distance between them as he could but Brendan wasn't having any of that. He simply took a large step closer, making their wet chests bump against each other and their damp skin cling instinctively.
Brendan then rolled himself pointedly against his hip and Ste whimpered, knowing it would only take a matter of minutes for Brendan to pounce.
He was wrong. It took a matter of seconds.
In the blink of an eye, Ste found himself turned roughly by the shoulders and thrown face first into the cold wall as shower water beat hard against his back.
His ankles were swiftly kicked apart from behind and Ste let out a gasp as his wrists were pinned firmly - expertly - above his head.
Every inch of Brendan was slotted against his back and it all felt so hard, feral and dangerous against his slighter frame that Ste trembled.
He felt helpless. He felt vulnerable. And he felt so light-headed with want that his vision was beginning to blur.
"Bren-Brendan..." Ste managed to whimper, trying his hardest not to rut back against Brendan as he opened his mouth to do something sensible, like complain or call for help or tell Brendan to never bother him again.
But Brendan yanked Ste's head back by his hair and kissed him so forcefully that these thoughts completely left Ste's head. Their teeth clacked painfully with the urgency in it and Ste could taste blood on his lips, sparking his sluggish brain to try and decipher which one of them it belonged to.
And then Brendan shoved a finger inside him.
Groaning, Ste pressed his forehead against the cool wall, the fingers of his right hand convulsing desperately in Brendan's grasp. Brendan added another curiously slick digit and Ste begged him wordlessly for more as he shamelessly pushed back to meet the fingers penetrating him.
Brendan chuckled darkly in his ear, his moustache tickling the shell of it.
"Like that, do ya?" he panted, curling the fingers inside Ste so abruptly that Ste let out a whine and squeezed shut his eyes.
"Brendan..." he groaned. "God, more..."
"Say please," Brendan hissed as he stilled his fingers, his breathy voice snake-like and barely audible against his tongue.
"Bren, please..." Ste choked, ready to give Brendan his soul as he tried to push back for more friction.
"Say pretty please, Stephen," Brendan continued, his tone both playful and cruel as he licked the shell of Ste's ear, his fingertips spitefully flexing then freezing inside him. "Pretty please, with a cherry on top."
"Pretty... cherry..." Ste panted nonsensically, his forehead lolling from side to side against the tiles in delirium.
Brendan laughed, his hand reaching for Ste's flank and squeezing it hard enough to bruise.
"Attaboy," said the Irishman softly, his voice curling around Ste like liquid velvet. "Attaboy."
And then he was guiding himself inside him.
It was exquisite agony, like being ripped apart and put back together again in a totally different way. Brendan's breathing was hot against Ste's shoulder and his fingernails left crescent-shaped indents on the Ste's hips but all Ste could concentrate on was this feeling of being filled so completely by someone - of being needed so desperately.
The tempo soon grew urgent and Ste almost bit his lip in half to stop himself from crying out. Brendan knew every angle to push against and strummed at every part of Ste's body like an expert musician manipulating an instrument.
It was maddening. It was delicious. And it didn't take either of them very long to eventually shudder against each other in climax, stars dancing in front of their eyes like fireworks. Brendan fell forward like a dead weight, squeezing the air out of Ste's lungs as he did but Ste couldn't even bring himself to grunt back in complaint.
He just felt boneless and sore and so exhausted that he didn't even have the energy to speak.
After a minute of recovering, however, Brendan did.
Grasping Ste by the throat, he abruptly squeezed the air from it as he jerked Ste closer and the warm lethargy that had flooded Ste's body previously turn into ice-cold fear.
Hot air tickled the hairs on the back of Ste's neck as Ste stood paralysed, struggling to breathe and knowing one wrong move could easily get his neck snapped.
Eyes frozen open with terror, he shivered as urgent, angry words trickled into his ear.
"I decide when it's over, Stephen. Not you, you hear?" said Brendan, the veiled threat in his voice unmistakeable as his strong fingers tightened even more. "Nod for me if you understand. Come on, nod for me..." Ste jerked his head in terror. "There," Brendan breathed out, sounding appeased. "That's my boy."
And then he released him.
Ste immediately doubled over wheezing, his hands on his knees as he choked in gulps of much-needed air, his lungs straining with the sudden influx of oxygen.
Brendan watched, his head tilted curiously at the sight before stepping forward and reaching out a hand to give him a strangely affectionate stroke of the head.
"Shhhh," he murmured, his fingers gently carding through Ste's hair like a parent soothing a spooked child. "Just breathe, that's it. Good lad."
Trailing his finger down to Ste's cheek, he then patted it twice.
"Good lad," he said again before withdrawing.
By the time Ste had enough strength to look up, Brendan was gone.
previous section | next section
Story Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Hollyoaks
Pairing: Ste/Brendan
Word Count: 1646 words
Disclaimer: I don't own the folk in Chester. If I did, Hollyoaks wouldn't be shown pre-watershed.
Summary: AU set in prison. In which Ste tries to avoid Brendan but doesn't succeed.
Notes: I wrote some more! I'm going to write these as snippets from the same universe rather than sequential chapters. For the ste_brendan Prison Prompt.
Other Chapters: Held Captive | Gangbanger | Vinnie | Imprisonment | Black and Blue
Link:
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Imprisonment
(Part of the 'Held Captive' series)
~*~ ~*~ ~*~
previous section | next section
The awkward thing about prison was that despite your greatest efforts, you couldn't really fully ignore another inmate. You were locked in with these people like a twisted version of a dysfunctional family where some members quietly adapted to prison life while the rest tried shanking everything in sight.
Ste fell into the former category. Everyone else seemed to fall into the latter.
Even Brendan Brady, who Ste had been trying avoid like the plague for the past few days, didn't really try to ingratiate himself to anyone in the prison, not even his own gang. One minute he would be laughing with one of his men, the next they'd be lying unconscious on the floor with a broken nose and no one would have the faintest idea what had set Brady off.
It was why everyone was terrified of him. It was why Danny Houston was coming after Ste and it was why Ste was cowering in his cell, wishing he had never got himself tangled up with the man in the first place.
Trying to escape Brendan, however, was about as probable as trying to escape the prison itself.
When the Irishman wasn't surrounded by his thugs in the courtyard, he was blocking the hallway leading to the cafeteria or leaning back against the rec room pool table as Warren Fox hustled some poor unsuspecting schmuck.
Brendan Brady was everywhere and Ste knew it was only a matter of time until their paths crossed again. What Ste didn't expect was for it to happen when he was in the middle of showering.
He had been especially careful that day, too, ducking in with his head low and his body shrinking against the walls. Ste had even hidden behind the girth of a particularly large inmate, using the man's copious width as cover so he could slide under a shower head undetected.
Unfortunately for Ste, even obese shields couldn't fool Brendan Brady.
"Stephen."
Almost jumping out of his skin at the sound of the voice, the bar of soap in Ste's hand escaped his fingers and skidded across the slippery floor.
Brendan lazily looked down at where it landed against his bare toes. It looked a rather pitiful sight.
"Well well well," he murmured as he raised his eyes from the floor to roam shamelessly up over Ste's form. Idly nibbling on the tip of his finger, Brendan's eyes flickered between the bar of soap to the swell of Ste's backside, his leer almost penetrating. "How convenient."
And damn if that voice didn't go straight to Ste's groin.
"B-Brendan..." Ste managed to stutter out when his voice returned to him, turning to face him and stumbling as he did. His feet slipped on the wet floor, making his shoulder blades smack hard against cold tiles.
Ste gulped. He was trapped.
From the gleam of triumph Ste could see in his eye, Brendan knew this, too.
"You've been avoiding me, Stephen," Brendan said, his voice soft and menacing as he prowled closer. "Why?"
Underneath the shower water, Ste could feel his palms prickling with sweat.
"I-I haven't..." he lied unconvincingly, trying to look subtle as he searched for an exit. When exactly had everyone else cleared the room?
Looking at the closed door in the corner, Ste's heart thumped painfully against his ribs. There was no way he could get to it before Brendan.
"You look scared, Stephen. Are you scared?" Brendan asked huskily, suddenly a fraction away from Ste's ear and towering over him. Back straight and supremely confident in his own nudity, Brendan's boldness made Ste lower his head coyly and slink back into himself. He felt little more than skin and bone in comparison.
"I'm-I'm not scared," Ste stammered, feeling his blush stain down to his torso.
Brendan briefly let out a dry chuff of amused laughter at this before lifting his thumb to trail it possessively down Ste's collarbone. Ste's breathing hitched, mesmerised by the digit as it slowly traced down his pectoral and lightly brushed his nipple.
"I think it's your lies that hurt the most, Stephen," Brendan drawled, not looking hurt in the slightest. What he looked was as intense and hungry as a predator mid-hunt, tilting its head and sizing up its prey.
And Ste had never felt so exposed in his entire life.
Swallowing hard, Ste pressed himself into the wall and tried to place as much distance between them as he could but Brendan wasn't having any of that. He simply took a large step closer, making their wet chests bump against each other and their damp skin cling instinctively.
Brendan then rolled himself pointedly against his hip and Ste whimpered, knowing it would only take a matter of minutes for Brendan to pounce.
He was wrong. It took a matter of seconds.
In the blink of an eye, Ste found himself turned roughly by the shoulders and thrown face first into the cold wall as shower water beat hard against his back.
His ankles were swiftly kicked apart from behind and Ste let out a gasp as his wrists were pinned firmly - expertly - above his head.
Every inch of Brendan was slotted against his back and it all felt so hard, feral and dangerous against his slighter frame that Ste trembled.
He felt helpless. He felt vulnerable. And he felt so light-headed with want that his vision was beginning to blur.
"Bren-Brendan..." Ste managed to whimper, trying his hardest not to rut back against Brendan as he opened his mouth to do something sensible, like complain or call for help or tell Brendan to never bother him again.
But Brendan yanked Ste's head back by his hair and kissed him so forcefully that these thoughts completely left Ste's head. Their teeth clacked painfully with the urgency in it and Ste could taste blood on his lips, sparking his sluggish brain to try and decipher which one of them it belonged to.
And then Brendan shoved a finger inside him.
Groaning, Ste pressed his forehead against the cool wall, the fingers of his right hand convulsing desperately in Brendan's grasp. Brendan added another curiously slick digit and Ste begged him wordlessly for more as he shamelessly pushed back to meet the fingers penetrating him.
Brendan chuckled darkly in his ear, his moustache tickling the shell of it.
"Like that, do ya?" he panted, curling the fingers inside Ste so abruptly that Ste let out a whine and squeezed shut his eyes.
"Brendan..." he groaned. "God, more..."
"Say please," Brendan hissed as he stilled his fingers, his breathy voice snake-like and barely audible against his tongue.
"Bren, please..." Ste choked, ready to give Brendan his soul as he tried to push back for more friction.
"Say pretty please, Stephen," Brendan continued, his tone both playful and cruel as he licked the shell of Ste's ear, his fingertips spitefully flexing then freezing inside him. "Pretty please, with a cherry on top."
"Pretty... cherry..." Ste panted nonsensically, his forehead lolling from side to side against the tiles in delirium.
Brendan laughed, his hand reaching for Ste's flank and squeezing it hard enough to bruise.
"Attaboy," said the Irishman softly, his voice curling around Ste like liquid velvet. "Attaboy."
And then he was guiding himself inside him.
It was exquisite agony, like being ripped apart and put back together again in a totally different way. Brendan's breathing was hot against Ste's shoulder and his fingernails left crescent-shaped indents on the Ste's hips but all Ste could concentrate on was this feeling of being filled so completely by someone - of being needed so desperately.
The tempo soon grew urgent and Ste almost bit his lip in half to stop himself from crying out. Brendan knew every angle to push against and strummed at every part of Ste's body like an expert musician manipulating an instrument.
It was maddening. It was delicious. And it didn't take either of them very long to eventually shudder against each other in climax, stars dancing in front of their eyes like fireworks. Brendan fell forward like a dead weight, squeezing the air out of Ste's lungs as he did but Ste couldn't even bring himself to grunt back in complaint.
He just felt boneless and sore and so exhausted that he didn't even have the energy to speak.
After a minute of recovering, however, Brendan did.
Grasping Ste by the throat, he abruptly squeezed the air from it as he jerked Ste closer and the warm lethargy that had flooded Ste's body previously turn into ice-cold fear.
Hot air tickled the hairs on the back of Ste's neck as Ste stood paralysed, struggling to breathe and knowing one wrong move could easily get his neck snapped.
Eyes frozen open with terror, he shivered as urgent, angry words trickled into his ear.
"I decide when it's over, Stephen. Not you, you hear?" said Brendan, the veiled threat in his voice unmistakeable as his strong fingers tightened even more. "Nod for me if you understand. Come on, nod for me..." Ste jerked his head in terror. "There," Brendan breathed out, sounding appeased. "That's my boy."
And then he released him.
Ste immediately doubled over wheezing, his hands on his knees as he choked in gulps of much-needed air, his lungs straining with the sudden influx of oxygen.
Brendan watched, his head tilted curiously at the sight before stepping forward and reaching out a hand to give him a strangely affectionate stroke of the head.
"Shhhh," he murmured, his fingers gently carding through Ste's hair like a parent soothing a spooked child. "Just breathe, that's it. Good lad."
Trailing his finger down to Ste's cheek, he then patted it twice.
"Good lad," he said again before withdrawing.
By the time Ste had enough strength to look up, Brendan was gone.
previous section | next section