Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they belong to Hollyoaks!

Summary: Ste disappears for six months, leaving Brendan to realise what he's missing. When he returns, neither of them are able to resist the pull between them. But how will things differ second time around?

A/N: Okay, new long term story :) Enjoy!

Come Back Around

Chapter One

Six months. That's how long it had been since Brendan had seen or heard from Stephen. Six months. At first Brendan had been cocky, had expected the lad to walk through his door at any given moment and prove to him once more why they were so intoxicated with each other. Why, despite it all, they worked. But then the days had turned into weeks, and then weeks into months and Brendan suddenly realised. Stephen wasn't coming back. He was really gone. It had hit him suddenly one afternoon when he was sitting with Cheryl in front of the television and she was recounting her mundane day and Brendan was insufferably bored. He suddenly thought: God, I need to get out of here. Go see-

And he had frozen. It was ridiculous really. Stephen had been gone for so long that Brendan had accepted the fact that he wouldn't be popping his head around the corner for work, or offering Brendan a coffee with that pouty lip of his protruded. But only now did he realise that he wouldn't be seeing him for good. How had it only sunk in now? And as he thought about it, as Cheryl continued to prattle on, Brendan considered their last encounter and chastised himself for not listening properly. For not doing anything to stop him leaving. He hadn't said in so many words that he was, to be fair, but there had been something in his eyes, in the crease between his brows. The utter defeated-ness of his stance. This was it. This was the end.

Brendan sighed, running a hand over his eyes. He took a swig of his whiskey, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He felt as though he had aged ten years already. It had been an eventful six months, that was for sure. Declan had come to stay with him for a few months. Brendan smiled when he thought of his son. He had loved it, more than he could possibly say. It had been difficult at first considering Declan didn't know certain things about Brendan. Like the fact that he slept with men. And sure it was awkward trying to relate to a teenager but Brendan had risen to the occasion, and so had Cheryl. Besides that having Declan around had kept Brendan very occupied and unable to dwell on certain things. Like the fact that Stephen was gone.

But he'd had to go home sometime. Once the summer holidays were finished Eileen had come back and whisked him off again. Brendan had missed Declan terribly after that. It felt odd, not having his clothes littering his room, or his games console taking up the space by the television. And breakfast was odd; Declan had a huge appetite like Brendan's and Cheryl would always laugh at how they would both sit there and wolf down their breakfast like there was no tomorrow. And then Declan would laugh and tease Brendan for getting food stuck in his tashe, as he often did, and Brendan would laugh along with him, relishing the thought that his son felt comfortable enough with him to laugh at his expense.

And so Brendan had felt a further loss. His son was gone, Stephen was gone. Poraic hadn't come back for the summer which had disappointed him and he had felt regretful that he had spent so much time getting to know one son and not the other. But he contented himself that they were both coming back for the Christmas holidays. But Stephen wasn't; he wasn't there to see Brendan be the dutiful father, to prove to him that he wasn't such a heartless monster, wasn't at all. He didn't know why it was so important for Stephen to realise this. Thoughts like these were often pushed to the back of Brendan's mind where he couldn't analyse them too closely. It wasn't appropriate to dwell on such thoughts. Not about another man. Not ever.
Stephen had left with Amy and the kids. They'd had their reasons, apparently. Cheryl had been told the longer version of events. Neither of them had been happy apparently. Needed a fresh start. Cheryl had looked at Brendan sympathetically and Brendan had looked away, pretending not to care. Cheryl saw through him but didn't push it, just gave him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder and ordered a takeaway, as though everything was normal and a takeaway could fix all of Brendan's problems.

Brendan sighed, leaning back in his chair. He had come to work today almost in a daze. He was beginning to feel that familiar feeling of entrapment. Perhaps he was supposed to have gone after Stephen? It was certainly far too late now, if that had been the case. But Stephen was always offering these ultimatums, saying it was the last chance, the last time he would put his trust into Brendan. And yet every time he had still returned. A moral part of Brendan, far in the back of his mind, acknowledged that perhaps this was the wake up call he needed. If Stephen always came back to him, how would Brendan ever learn?

He did sometimes wonder if Stephen were testing him. Waiting for him to crack. He hadn't received any form of contact from him, even though he had called him countless times and even left messages. He made it a point to call at least once every day, without fail. But he never answered. Once Brendan tried on Cheryl's phone and Stephen did pick up but the moment he heard Brendan's voice he cut off the call. Brendan had thrown the phone at the wall after that in frustration and had had to buy Cheryl a new one. She wasn't pleased.

Sometimes he thought it was odd that Stephen never bought a new phone, or blocked Brendan's number. It was almost cruel the way he would allow Brendan to ring him on and on and never be gratified with a response. But then Brendan supposed that Stephen had been driven to breaking point and probably felt as though Brendan deserved to be taught a lesson.

Brendan stood up from his desk and walked towards the door. He needed to get out, the office was stifling him. He felt as though the walls were closing in, trapping him in his own pit of misery. As he walked down the stairs, Brendan realised that no one besides Cheryl even knew he was hurting. He was so used to hiding his feelings under such a hard exterior that he even fooled himself sometimes into thinking that he didn't care.

But he did care. And Stephen knew that. He'd said those three little words that he knew Stephen had been desperate to hear, and he meant them with every fibre of his soul. But Brendan wasn't ready to change. It was an impossible concept to him. To imagine life in a relationship like Stephen was asking for, the very idea of which he despised was completely alien to him.

Brendan looked across the village, breathing in the fresh air (or as fresh as it got around here) and frowned. He must be going delusional because that man even looked like Stephen. Standing by the bus stop, alone, bags in hand. Brendan squinted, stalking forwards. Could it be…?

"Stephen!" He shouted, his heart racing. It was. It was him.

Stephen looked at him in alarm. He was walking away. Oh no, he wasn't fucking off again, no chance.

"Don't ye run away from me!" Brendan said, catching up to him. He grabbed his arm and spun him around. "What are ye playing-" the words died in his throat.

Looking into that face again, seeing those clear blue eyes staring back at him, not in disgust or fear but in perfect clarity. It seemed Stephen hadn't forgotten him, either.

"Can we talk later?" Stephen asked quietly. He glanced at Brendan's hand on his arm and Brendan shook his head.

"Ye will run off again"

Stephen smiled at him. "Not one for paranoia, Bren"

"Aren't I?" Brendan asked, although he did release Stephen's arm.

"I have a lot to explain…" Stephen said awkwardly, putting his bags on the floor.

"Where are Amy and the kids?" Brendan asked, stating the obvious.

"Still back where we moved" Stephen said carefully. "It's a long story"

Brendan shrugged, picking up Stephen's bags and flinging them over his shoulder. "I've got time"