Okay, so this is it! The final chapter! It's been a while, and I've had some trouble deciding exactly what to put in this but I hope that I've done the story, the characters, and their amazingness justice! It might not be the most in character they've ever been, but I think it kind of fits. I hope so, anyway - really, my head's just filled with the perfection that was #StendaninDublin, am I right? Anyway, read, enjoy (crossed fingers) and please review!

Prologue: Two years later

"Brendan," a voice crooned above him, tempting him out of that warm, safe place of sleep and causing him to groan and burrow further into the warmth of the duvet. He pressed his face into his pillow, and pretended he couldn't hear Steven.

"Rise and shine," Ste said, his breath – minty, he had already been up a few hours – fanned across Brendan's face. "It's a big day today, we can't be late!"

Brendan mumbled something incoherently into the material of his headrest, and he could hear Ste rolling his eyes above him. There was a dip in the bed as Ste's weight joined him – Brendan smiled his victory – and then a rustling of the covers and then Brendan gasped as Ste's hand gripped his morning boner firmly. His eyes flew open: Ste lounged above him, eyes full of laughter and teeth bared into a teasing little grin that had Brendan's back arching desperately off the bed and his hands reaching for the lithe body.

Ste ducked out of the way, vanishing into the doorway and blowing a kiss, "Good morning."

The boy left, leaving Brendan slumped back and gasping and finishing the job himself, alone in their bed.

Later – having showered and dressed – Brendan stalked into the tiny kitchen, throwing little glares to his lover just to assure the lad that he wasn't over the bullying that morning; Ste smirked, rose from the table (he was still naked, and Brendan would swear that his heart stopped) and handed Brendan the fry up that he had prepared earlier, kept warm in their rickety microwave.

Brendan tucked it.

"Forgiven?" Ste laughed, wiping ketchup from the elder man's chin. Brendan pouted at him, but his lips curved up moments after and his eyes were full of that hidden emotion that made Ste clench his toes in wonder: it said all.

"Well we've got a lot to do, so you have to hurry up!" Ste chided gently.

Brendan sighed, "I'm sure she wouldn't care that much-"

"If you missed her wedding?" Ste cut in, raising an eyebrow in disapproval. No matter what, there was no excuse and they both knew it.

"I can think of things I'd rather do..." Brendan tried to distract Ste, pulling him into his lap (nakednakednakednakednaked) and planting a light kiss on his collarbone.

"Brush your teeth." Ste insisted, shuffling them along, "And then wash up while I get dressed."

For the second time, Brendan was left watching the younger man leave, shaking his head as the shower started up.

"I thought we fixed the dish washer?" Brendan called through as Ste exited, heading – naked – into the bedroom to grab his suit hanging on the back of the door.

"You broke it last week, remember? When we came back from the pub?" Ste shouted in his direction.

Brendan thought back, and as the memory came back to him his moustache twitched into a smile as he smirked at the item. "As I remember, it was your back that jolted it..." He pointed out.

"And who was slamming me around?" Ste asked, coming through and offering his neck to Brendan to tie the tie.

Brendan did so, "And who was looking so fucking appetising?"

"I'm not a piece of meat?" Ste whispered, as Brendan kissed him – hungrily.

"Are you sure?" Brendan growled back, clutching the thin frame to his own and nibbling lovingly on Ste's ridiculously pouty expression.

"Fucking positive." Ste insisted, but his hands found the back of Brendan's head and held him there anyway.

"Because, Steven, you're good enough to eat." Brendan promised, moving to Ste's neck.

Ste groaned, tilting his head back to give more room and going weak at the knees at Brendan's expert ministrations, "You want to be careful, you."

At this – much to Ste's chagrin (he whimpered, and then covered it with a cough to stop Brendan's ego inflating further) – Brendan pulled away and gazed down, perplexed, "What?"

"Firstly," Ste kissed him lightly, "Cannibalism's illegal." Brendan snorted. "And secondly, my boyfriend's the jealous type."

Brendan's eyes crinkled in the corners, "Can you blame him?"

"I couldn't blame him for anything, I've tried," Ste murmured, trailing fingers down Brendan's newly shaved cheeks and holding his gaze. "I guess I love his ugly mug too much," he teased, breaking the spell of Brendan's eyes with a nervous laugh.

It was ridiculous – stupid, moronic – that the man still had this effect on him.

Brendan swallowed, "We should get going." He said quietly, and Ste nodded gratefully.

They got in their – Brendan's – car, and Brendan drove them out of their drive.

The two men in the car surveyed the building apathetically.

"Not very nice." Brendan muttered.

"Tacky." Ste agreed.

"The fairy lights should be white." Brendan pointed out.

"And the roses clash."

"Why is there that sign?"

"Who even planned this?"

"Fucking ridiculous."

"Are they all blind?"

"Should have had a smaller church."

"Yeah, a nice rustic, traditional one."

"I'm thinking lots of trees."

"Stone?"

"Yeah, that dark one."

"Yeah."

Ste caught Brendan's eye, and too late they realised that they were, in fact, planning a wedding. This was the kind of thing that was ridiculous because – and it was impossible to think otherwise – Brendan was never going to marry Ste.

And, honest to God, Ste was alright with that.

Honest.

Because Brendan had come so damn far, and he was so much more than Ste needed. It wasn't that he was holding back, it was that they had no need for officiality.

"I'm going to find Chez." Brendan said gruffly, letting himself out of the car and waiting for Ste to do the same to lock it.

"Not mingling?" Ste reminded, but not seriously.

"I hate nearly every single person in that room," Brendan smiled softly.

"And the rest you've slept with," Ste laughed, reaching up to snatch a quick kiss before bobbing away. "I'll do the duties, then. You make sure that she's ok."

Brendan nodded, walked silently up to the overly decorated door and moved slickly down a side corridor as Ste entered the snake's nest of Irish relatives.

"Chez?" He asked, and entered without knocking.

There was a shriek, a flailing of arms, a brief topple; Brendan lurched forwards and caught his half dressed sister, rolling his eyes at her eccentricity and righting her.

"What are you doing?" He gestured to her lack of a wedding dress, and from the wide eyed bafflement upon her shining face he was sure she had completely forgotten she'd taken it off.

"I..." Cheryl trailed off, and gestured quickly to the cake left on the side, guiltily, "I'm scared," she admitted.

Brendan scooped up the offending desert, dumping it into the bin, ignoring squealing protestations; he smoothed out her garment tenderly (he'd bloody paid for it, after all, in the absence of a father); he hugged her tight.

"How do you know if they're the one?" Cheryl whispered into his collar.

Brendan pulled away, "Put your dress on, Chez." He handed it to her, and sat on the bed. "How do you know?" He mused, aware that she was clinging onto his every word. "I don't know what you want me to say: it's not like Eileen's and mine's marriage was the best, is it?"

"It may actually have been the worst." Cheryl giggled, shrugging into the confection of white. "But why did you marry her?" She asked a moment later.

Brendan screwed up his eyes, "I was stupid."

Cheryl didn't reply, and when he looked to her he saw a scared blankness; and he knew that he had caused it. Sighing – fighting his self preservation instincts – he stepped through his walls and cast his mind back, "I guess...I guess I loved her."

Cheryl's eyes, the same as his own, flickered in his direction.

"Oh, not like I love Steven. But I still loved her. She made me smile, and I loved that I could protect her; she was funny, and clever, and exactly the girl I should have picked. She was unavailable to the rest of my mates – the one everyone wanted – and for once not wanting to have sex with her worked in my favour. For a while." Brendan smiled self deprecatingly, snapping out of his haze and finding Cheryl.

She stared back, "You were stupid." She agreed.

Brendan smiled, and shrugged, "I was young."

Cheryl nodded, "I loved being bridesmaid."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." Brendan muttered sarcastically, winding a spare program through his fingers in agitation. Strangely enough, memories of his wedding day weren't his favourite.

The siblings lapsed into silence for a minute as Cheryl fixed her dress, pulling at her hair a little, dabbing a little blush onto her pale cheeks. She stared at herself in the full length mirror, and Brendan rose to stand behind her, hands on her waist.

"Tell me about you and Ste," Cheryl whispered, her usually bubbly voice trembling.

Brendan swallowed, thought of his sister's happiness, "Steven is...annoying, most of the time. He whinges, and doesn't like the same things as me, and prefers to dress like a chav than anything decent. He doesn't understand cars, but likes driving fast. He makes me want to bang my head against the wall, but sometimes...he'll curl into my side and I know I would do absolutely anything to be in that moment right there, with him. He'll smile I'll want to freeze forever to keep him happy. He'll go away for a cooking course and I'll physically ache – and I'll never get used to it not just being a physical thing, but...my heart."

Brendan swallowed, turning to the window, "Of course, he's fitter than fuck, and that helps. Even when I'm angry with him I appreciate those bloody eyelashes. And..."

Brendan had found the words to explain, and he turned to his sister triumphantly.

Ste stood by Cheryl's side, eyes wide and full of the same tears hers held; they had identical, soft little smiles – Brendan's heart lurched, hard enough to hurt, and all the muscles in his stomach tightened reflexively.

"How do you know if they're the one?" His words were directed at Cheryl, but he could not for the life tear his eyes from Ste. "They're the one if they're woven so deeply inside of you that even when you don't want them there you know exactly where they are, and if you don't know exactly where they are you'd do anything to find out."

Cheryl's breath came out in a sobbing heave, eyes choked with emotion – bright like stars – but empty of doubt. She beamed, but Brendan didn't see her.

There was a tap on the door, Annalise appeared nervously.

"It's time."

Brendan took Cheryl's arm dutifully, kissed her cheek.

"Ready?"

"I am...the luckiest bastard in the world." Walker laughed shakily. Half the room tittered at his honest confusion, the other shook their heads in disapproval; he raised his hands in supplication, "Sorry, sorry, my head's all over the place." He smiled, and won them over.

At the other side of the table, Brendan rolled his eyes to Ste, who smirked without ripping his eyes from the speech maker.

Walker shook his head once more, sending his neatly prepared hair into its usual disarray, and began his speech in earnest.

"I'll keep it brief. I thought I had it sussed: this whole love, life, thing. I thought I could do every single day for the rest of my life, and I probably could have. I could have continued as normal, and never once realised that I was living in gray. And then Cheryl flung herself into my life, and everything was coloured, and fast, and utterly scary; and Cheryl was the only thing - the perfect thing – in it that mattered. She changed literally every single thing about me, and I will adore her for it forever because this man she's made me? He's a better person." He turned to Cheryl. "Cheryl, love, you make me a good man. And...I love you so much. And I hope that I never, ever let you down because you are the best thing that's ever happened to me and it would kill me to hurt you. Also, your brother scares the hell out of me and I think he'd probably eat me."

They all laughed, and Walker lifted his glass to Brendan jokingly.

"I would." Brendan warned.

Turning back to Cheryl: "I love you; I love you so damn much," he faced the crowds again, grinning broadly, "To my beautiful wife, who is my everything; to Cheryl!"

"To Cheryl!" They chimed in unison, taking a sip.

Cheryl dragged her husband down, landing a smacking kiss on his eager lips. They watched, smiling at the enthusiastic newly-weds.

Time stretched on, and they didn't part; a few old ladies (not the Irish clan, they were loving the display) muttered angrily; Ste stared at his plate.

"Dance!" Brendan growled gruffly, breaking the tension, drawing attention from the couple and gesturing desperately to the band, who struck up their tune with admirable gusto.

"Dance!" The call crossed the room in a wave, becoming loud enough to catch Walker's bashful attention. He blushed, grinning still, and offered his hand to his beautiful bride, leading her to the centre of the chairs and pulling her into his arms gently.

"Thanks!" Ste mouthed to his boyfriend, who rolled his eyes affectionately.

"Thanks!" A pretty blonde girl drifted to their table, eyes shyly cast down and lips casually pouting. Her slender fingers found Brendan's shoulder softly, and her heavily made up eyes raised to meet his as he turned to look at her: they locked on, she smiled and leant into him.

"I'm Sarah," she introduced herself.

Ste sat up straighter, but didn't glare at the offending girl. Oh, sure, she was perving all over his property: but really, the poor lass would think over this moment – the moment she made her move – for days, and be embarrassed about it every time. And, anyway, it was Ste that got to take him home tonight.

"Brendan," Brendan replied, shaking her proffered hand. Ste could hear the amusement in his voice, even if she only heard the sexy growling gravel over honey tones.

"Brendan Brady? I'm sure Maggie's mentioned you at some point," she simpered, looking as though she was genuinely trying to remember where she had heart (Ste suddenly thought that it might be from the papers, two years ago, and bit his lip nervously).

"Maggie?" The girl addressed Cheryl's mother boldly, drawing her from her conversation.

Maggie looked to them in irritation, took in the hand on the nape of Brendan's neck, Brendan's smirk and Ste's abashed shake of the head; she pursed her lips at her step-son, "He's the gay one, dear." She told her brusquely.

There was a moment of awkwardness – a hesitant beat between understanding Maggie's words, remembering, and withdrawing her fingers from Brendan's skin.

"Oh." She stuttered.

Brendan took pity – perhaps it was the church setting calling on his morals, more likely he was in a good mood to see his sister so happy – "This is Steven." He gestured to Ste, who waved. She shook her palm back at him.

"I just remembered I have to..." her voice trailed off as she backed away, and as she did so Brendan and Ste noticed for the first time that more than one pair of eyes were on the awkward trio.

"Shall we give the buggers something to talk about?" Brendan asked, wiping his moustache with his napkin.

Ste took his fingers – a jolt of electricity – and they took their own corner of the dance floor.

"It wasn't that bad," Brendan allowed, falling through the door with Ste wrapped in his arms.

"This is how we broke the dish-washer," Ste warned, but nestled closer, reaching for Brendan's shirt and hurriedly undoing his tie.

Brendan's teeth bit his earlobe gently, his arms a cage when Ste tried to turn them around to lead them to a safer location, "I enjoyed breaking the dish-washer." He growled.

Ste laughed breathlessly, "I remember."

A hot flash of sticky skin, of cries swallowed by the night, of teeth and nails and desperation and finally; he remembered that particular encounter.

He was going to say something else about Cheryl – or perhaps he wasn't, perhaps he was just going to take his boyfriend then and there on the floor – but something caught his attention and he stiffened in Brendan's arms.

"What's that smell?" He asked, trying to turn around.

Brendan held him in place, and when Ste looked at him questioningly he looked nervous.

"What is it?" Ste asked quietly, and Brendan released him to see for himself.

Ste stifled a gasp.

Several candles littered the surfaces; fairy-lights draped the walls and ceiling, glittering orbs floating delicately in the air as if by magic; Ste stepped, amazed, into the world of dreams and beauty that Brendan had created in their little living room. In the heart of the magic – where something swelled inside of Ste that was painfully like peace and utterly awestruck – Ste stopped. Light flickered around him, and when Brendan's hands found his waist they sank into the love there, as much a part of Ste's incredulity as anything else.

"What is this?" Ste asked, rocking back into Brendan because he was scared to keep his weight on his own two feet.

Brendan swallowed audibly, rotated Ste.

"Steven," he looked to their interlinked fingers, "the thing is...I can't live without you. Everything you heard today, when I was talking to Chez, I meant it and so much more. I meant that you are my whole world and no sucker like Walker could ever understand what that is."

Ste snorted.

"Every day when I wake up it is like a miracle, and I thank every single lucky star I can think of. You are every shooting star that blazed across my path, every coin dropped into a wishing well, every dandelion blown into the wind." Brendan smiled, "And I really can't believe I'm saying this."

"I really can't believe you're saying this!" Ste agreed, through the tears choking him.

Fingers brushed the water from his cheeks, "I love you, Steven Hay, that's what I'm trying to say. I love you and I will never stop."

Brendan's lips bent down to Ste's, brushing unintentionally, opening slightly and they just held there for a moment, feeling the breath rushing from deep down into one another, heartbeats learning to synchronise, eyelashes fluttering into a mixture.

"Marry me?" Brendan whispered, and the words were the tipping point to press his lips to Ste's.

"Yes." Ste replied, clutching his love to him.

The end!

I really hope you liked it: if you did or if you didn't, leave a review and tell me why!