Notes: I cant seem to stop writing new chapters for this so here's another. It's mostly fluff and it's really self-indelgent - again. There's some fairly explicit sex and a tiny bit of Doug. It's also 8000 words. They're getting longer. I need help.

There's Christmas spirit all around in the eighteen days after Ste and Brendan return to the village and Ste makes a few important revelations while they prepare for a hectic family holiday.

zero days

On the outside he's holding it together pretty well but inside he feels like a bag of squirming kittens about to be chucked into a river and what a fucking tragic analogy that is, now he's thinking about drowning kittens.

Brendan opens the passenger side door and stands there patiently, waits him out until Ste can bear to look over. The sun shines behind him, colours the ends of his hair auburn and casts sharp angles across his features and Ste's suddenly a little hazy and his heart feels swollen and sluggish. Brendan offers him a hand and when he takes it everything solidifies into sharp clarity. His nerves calm and when Brendan hauls him out of the car he crowds close and slides his hands into Brendan's open coat to hold him around his waist.

"Hey," Brendan murmurs softly.

"Hiya."

"Home sweet home."

"I doubt it."

Brendan laughs dryly and pulls him closer, kisses him on the forehead in a way that makes him melt. "Come on, you're stayin' at mine tonight."

"And when was this decided?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, days ago. Didn't you get the memo?"

"Must 'ave missed that one in and amongst all the other 'memos' I was gettin' from you, y'know, like the one where I do all the washing up because it makes your hands feel squeaky? Or the one where I clean all the kitchen because I cooked all the food in it and made it messy in the first place?"

"It's okay, you'll catch up," Brendan says with a bright grin. "I'll buy you a diary, help you keep track."

"Awww, I'm such a lucky guy. Anything else I should know?"

"That you're obviously stalling?" There's nothing Ste can say to that because he's right, sees right through him. He takes Ste's hand out of his coat and grips it firmly. "Come on. We don't waste time anymore, remember?"

Ste nods, loves the way Brendan says we so casually. They're a we know. An us. A them, the two of them, Brendan and Ste, Ste and Brendan. Remember that couple we met the other week? Brendan and Ste? Yeah, they were pretty great together weren't they?

Upstairs is the rest of their lives and Ste can't falter at this step. Brendan's right, he doesn't want to waste anymore time.

two days

After twelve rings - he counted - Doug finally answers his phone. "Ste?"

"Hiya, how you doin'?" he asks nervously and Doug tells him, okay, not bad, he's been spending time with family, old friends, cousins he hasn't seen in years. Could be worse. Ste thinks, oh, don't worry about that, you're about to be.

"Texas said that you'd disappeared from the village for a while," he says, voice wavering only slightly but Ste can read his tone completely - he knows.

He swallows through his dry throat, takes a shaky breath. "Yeah, I went to Dublin."

Doug exhales like he's been punched, loud and ragged, like he's been holding that breath in for weeks and Ste's just forced it out of him. "Right, okay."

"I thought I should ring and tell you that me and Bren - "

"Don't, don't say his name, I really don't wanna hear it, I can't - "

"Doug - "

"I said don't. Just tell me one thing, honestly, and whatever you say I'll believe you," he says thickly, voice cracking. "Did you end things because you were planning to run straight back to him?"

"No, I didn't, you know I didn't," Ste says a little desperately. "We were so messed up, Doug. We'd been together for no time at all and we were ready to crack. Could you see a future for us?"

"Yeah, I know, I just - " he sniffs and sighs and can't seem to come up with any words. Ste thinks maybe it would be easier for him if it had been all about Brendan. At least then there'd be a clear cut line, a black and a white, no muddled feelings of regret and not knowing and maybe he could move on more easily.

"You know that I loved you."

"Yeah, I know. You just loved him more."

The words sit between them and Ste can't deny that they're true so he doesn't. He doesn't say a thing because it can't help Doug now, nothing he says can.

"Are you comin' back?" he asks instead.

"I was thinking I wanted to spend Christmas and New Years with my family but - yeah, after that. Got a business to run, don't we?" Doug chokes through a wet laugh and Ste knows they have so much more to talk about but for now it it can wait.

"Yeah, yeah we do."

four days

"You don't think you should ask me before you give jobs to your random boyfriends in my club, Chez?"

"I think I still own part of that club and I can do what I like so you can shut your face."

"Wow, that's mature. I'm sure your Ma would be so proud of your witty comebacks, really, brilliant."

"I'm sure your Ma would be so proud of your stupid face."

"Have you looked in a mirror recently?"

"Will you two just shut up!?" Ste snaps, slams one hand down on the dining table both for emphasis and in an attempt to make a sound loud enough to penetrate the Brady screeching. It's literally first thing in the morning and all he wants to do it have some breakfast and peace and quiet before he has to go and open up the deli and get shouted at all day by whinging customers. He might as well not bother, might as well stay here and listen to Cheryl and Brendan go at it like a couple of kids instead.

"Fine, you deal with him," Cheryl practically growls at him and strops out of the door, slamming it behind her with an almighty rattle. Ste says nothing, just carries on eating his toast with the pin-prickly feeling of Brendan's gaze fixed on him but he will not indulge him and turn around, not on his life. Brendan must give up trying to move him with the almighty power of his brain because he eventually throws himself down in the chair opposite, legs splayed and arms folded over his chest. He takes a big breath and opens his mouth to speak.

"I've got my own kids coming to live with me in a few days, I've no interest in adopting two more," Ste interrupts severely before Brendan can get out any words and he scowls at Ste so petulantly he nearly chokes on his toast with the sudden urge to laugh. "You look like a big, sad puppy right now," he says fondly and leans across the table to try and ruffle at Brendan's hair. He jerks back out of Ste's reach and then, eyes twinkling, lunges forward and tries to bite his hand. "Sorry, did I say puppy? I meant rabid pitbull."

"You're supposed to take my side you know, that's what - " he halts and gestures between them with his hand, vague back and forth motion, " - y'know? That's what you're supposed to do."

"That's what what are supposed to do?" Ste asks, amused and feeling just a little offended. "Boyfriends? Lovers? Peas in a pod? Chums?"

"You know what I meant - "

"I've got it, that's what sweethearts do."

"Okay, sarcasm appreciated, I get it - "

"Suitors? Companions?"

"What, are you hiding a thesaurus somewhere?"

"Bedfellows? Objects of affection?"

"How long is this gonna go on for?" Brendan asks blankly.

"I've got a list a mile long," Ste replies, trying but horribly failing to fight the massive smile that's trying to split his face in two. "I've been puttin' it together for you so you can pick the one you like best."

Brendan sighs, long-suffering and resigned. He tosses his hand in a vague gesture to continue and settles in. "Go on then, if it'll make you happy."

Ste's going to make him regret those words.

six days

"Daddy!"

He hears the word like it's in stereo, one in each ear deafening him but he doesn't care because it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard. He hoists both of his children up into his arms and nearly collapses under their wriggling, laughing weight. He holds them tightly and just soaks in their warmth and adoration.

"Daddy's missed you two. I can't wait to get you back home so you can make a mess of the place, it's been too tidy without you," he says and Leah cackles, loud and high and kind of evil, actually. Amy watches them from the breakfast counter with a smile on her face and Ste notices she's fiddling with the huge, blinding rock on her finger and waving her hand about in a very obvious manner. He rolls his eyes and puts down Leah and Lucas and she looks like she's all but vibrating with the need to tell him all about it.

"Yeah, I can see it, don't worry," he says, taking a seat on one of the tall stools and grabbing her hand. The diamond is the biggest he's ever seen, bigger than anything Jacqui McQueen's ever worn, even, and he gawps at it. "You couldn't miss the bloody thing, oh my God."

"I know," she says excitedly. "Ste, he's so amazing, he's all into this charity stuff and he's great with the kids and the best part - "

She looks about ready to burst and wants him to ask, so he does. "What?"

"He's six foot four and gorgeous."

He laughs. "Impressive. Do I get to meet him?"

"Maybe, when I've had six months to make sure he's not for turning."

"What are you implyin' Ames? I've got my own man thank you very much." She falls quiet and pensive, fiddles with the ring on her finger. "You can tell me what you're thinkin' you know, I'm not gonna get upset."

"You know I worry about you," she says quietly.

"And you know that I appreciate it."

"How are things going?"

He smiles, can't help it because whenever he thinks about how things are actually going he just feels giddy. He has Brendan and now he has his children and there's not a lot more he could really ask for. "Really good. Like, actually, really good."

"You know what? You look - different," she says, peering at him and cocking her head. "I can't put my finger on it, like - you look easy."

"You callin' me a slag?"

"No," she tuts and smacks him. "Not like that. Like, relaxed. You've barely stopped smiling since you got here. It's nice to see it again."

Ste gives her a bright grin in thanks and it makes her laugh. "He makes me happy, that's it really. That's all there is to it."

"Just be careful, okay?"

"Look, Ames, no offence of anything but - I'm sick of people tellin' me to be careful. I am. I know Brendan, I know him better than anyone, and this is my choice, no one else's. I'm not stupid."

She considers him for a few seconds, really considers him like she can read his thoughts or something. Knowing Amy she probably can. "I know you're not stupid, Ste. I trust that you know what you're doin' but it doesn't magically erase what I know about him or how I feel about him. You're just gonna have to let me worry, okay?"

He holds up his hand up in a gesture that they haven't performed in ages. "Then I get to worry about you and what's-his-name - "

"Philipe."

" - yeah, him, in whatever-that-place - "

"Namibia."

" - yeah, that one."

"Deal," she says and links her little finger with his with a small smile. It's such a warm and familiar gesture that he suddenly and fiercely misses her already, feels himself choke up and a frown pull at his forehead. It just hits him like a brick flying out of nowhere that he's not going to see her for six whole months. Her lip wobbles and she chokes out a small, desperate, "oh no, don't, Ste," but it's too late - he's well and truly off. She crowds close between his knees and flings her arms around him and he clings to her small frame a little to tightly. She smells just like she used to, coconut and laundry and kids and it physically winds him.

"I 'ave a question, actually," he muffles into her shoulder, voice syrupy through his thick throat.

"G-go on," she stutters back, face pressed into his neck and he can feel moisture gathering and dripping down the front of his t-shirt.

He sniffs noisily. "Where in the the fuck is Namibia?"

nine days

He's back home, his own home, not Cheryl and Brendan's home, and he thinks he might have been underplaying it when he'd said the kids would make a mess. Jesus, it looks like a nuclear bomb went off in his living room. It's different after all the time they spent away and he'd forgotten the noise and carnage. The Bradys have nothing on Leah and Lucas.

He's getting back into the swing of being a single father again and he's hardly left his flat except to go to the work and make sure Leanne or Barney are taking care of his deli properly. Between the three of them they've got the place covered: Ste drops the kids off at nursery and school, cooks all day and leaves one of his happy worker bees to do the evening shifts. He's hoping for a bit of romance in the workplace between them and stokes the flame whenever he can, anything to take the attention off his own love life.

If he has to hear Leanne ask anymore questions like who's better in bed, Doug or Brendan? or who has a bigger willy, your husband or your boyfriend? he's going to cut someone.

He's almost zonked out on the sofa, Lucas raptly watching TV on the floor and Leah sprawled on top of him, when he faintly hears his front door shuffle open.

"Steven?" He can't be arsed moving at all and he doesn't even have the energy to ask Leah why she's crawling off him and creeping off into the corner all of a sudden - she's weird like that sometimes. "Stev - "

"Raaarrr!"

"Jesus!"

Ste startles upright at whip-crack of Brendan's cry and he watches, completely baffled, as he staggers across the living room and leans, doubled over with his one hand supporting his weight against his leg and the other over his heart, against the wall. He realises that Leah had hidden and jumped out and scared him and now she's stood stifling her giggles with both hands pressed against her mouth. Ste collapses back onto the sofa, throws his head back and laughs right along with her.

"What's the matter with you two? You tryin' to give me a coronary? Brendan gasps out between deep, calming breaths.

"What's a cornery, daddy?"

"It's summat that 'appens to old people, Leah," Ste tells her through a smile and Brendan glowers at him and he can practically see the scathing retort on the very tip of his tongue until Lucas pulls on the leg of his jeans and distracts him.

"Are you okay?" he asks and Brendan's face softens into something truly lovely as he looks at Ste's son.

"Course I am, Lucas." He bends down and hoists Lucas up into his arms. "Your daddy and big sister are just big bullies, that's all."

Lucas glances over at the pair of them, Ste still sprawled out across the sofa and Leah perched to him, shoulders still shaking through her laughter, and gives Brendan the most solemn nod he thinks he's ever seen on a three year old. "I know."

"Yeah? Mean ain't they?" Brendan asks all sympathetically.

"Leah hit me in the face with my Furby the yesterday," he says with a long-suffering sigh, "and then she hit my Furby in the face with her Furby."

Brendan tuts and shakes his head. "Go on."

"Oi - "

"Steven, we're having a private conversation over here, if you don't mind," Brendan interrupts smoothly, expression sly and mischievous and Ste's teeth click as he shuts his mouth and narrows his eyes in a glare.

"And then daddy ate all my chocolate buttons and said it was a ghost but I know it was him, I saw him doin' it," his only son tells his new best friend sadly and Ste gawps, feels completely betrayed by his own flesh and blood.

"That's terrible."

"Excuse me - "

"Steven, please. Your son is talking."

Ste shakes his head at him and presses his mouth in a firm line, tries not to smirk but he can't help it. Brendan's so bloody charming that even his own son has forsaken him but Ste will get his own back, later. For now he can stand to lose this one if it means getting to watch Brendan settle down onto his living room floor with Lucas in his lap looking for all the world like he's as besotted as his daddy is.

twelve days

The office door shuts with a crack as he's slammed back against it, Brendan plastered against his front, a hot, solid weight all along the length of him, and Brendan's mouth pressing wet, sucking kisses against the skin of his throat until he's melting against him. His hands cling in the material of Brendan's shirt across his shoulders and he grinds helplessly against the thigh pushed up between his legs.

He's been in this office for a grand total of six seconds, he thinks. He'd only come to the club to ask if Brendan fancied lunch.

Ste threads his fingers through Brendan's hair and pulls until he licks a damp path up his jaw and into his mouth, tongue dragging against his own in a slow, rolling rhythm to match their tightly pressed bodies. Brendan's hands slip down his sides and tug the material of his shirt out of his trousers, work open his button and zip until he can worm one hand down the front of his underwear. Ste jerks up against him when Brendan's open palm rubs him up and down and he hooks one knee over Brendan's hip and plants his foot firmly against the door for leverage.

"Fuck me on your desk, Bren," he gasps out between kisses. "We 'aven't done it in ages."

"Gladly," Brendan growls against his mouth, bites his bottom lip and sucks on it. He grips Ste tightly under both thighs and pulls his legs up around his waist, grinds him back into the door hard until Ste can get a secure hold around his shoulders. He can feel the ripple and flex of Brendan's muscles under his hands and thrills at the raw strength there as he carries Ste across the room. "Do me a favour - " he says roughly, nods at the clutter covering the desktop and Ste flings one arm back and clears it all onto the floor with one swipe of his hand. "Good boy."

"Aren't I just?" Ste breathes, voice catching on a ragged exhale because Brendan calling him that in this office is enough to send shivers up his spine. "What do I get for it?"

"You get to come in my mouth after I've fucked you raw - if you can last that long, that is."

"Fuck - oh, God - " he chokes incoherently and buries his face against Brendan's neck. Just the sound of his voice making filthy promises would do at this point so Ste's not sure how that's going to happen but he's a trier and he loves a challenge, especially can't resist one from Brendan.

He locks his ankles around Brendan's hips and sets his shaking hands on the buttons of his black shirt, presses his lips against Brendan's frantic pulse and pulls the skin between his teeth to make him groan and dig his fingers into Ste's waist. The buttons unhook one at a time until he can slide his open palms across Brendan's chest and over his shoulders until the shirt slips off and falls to the floor. There's so much skin on display and Ste's mouth waters, wants to devour every inch of him. He presses his tongue against Brendan's collar bone, sucks and kisses the skin, drags his lips across the path his hands just took as Brendan flicks open his shirt, secures one strong arm around his back to support his weight and pulls his trousers and boxers right out from under him.

He makes a muffled 'unf' sound when he lands back on the desk, cold wood biting into his arse making him arch up into Brendan's warm body as they jointly wrestle him all the way out of his pants, shoes going with them until he's wearing nothing but his open shirt, half hanging off his shoulders. Brendan cups one hand around his cheek and drags a thumb across his mouth and Ste gets the idea and dips his head to catch the tips of Brendan's fingers on his bottom lip briefly before sucking two digits into his mouth and wetting them with his swirling tongue.

Brendan watches him with dark, eager eyes, mouth parted and breath puffing out harsh and quick. When he deems Ste's done a decent enough job he trails his damp fingers all the way out of his mouth, thin string of spit clinging against his bottom lip, glistening wet and obscene, and brings them down between his legs. He presses against Ste's hole, rubs until his muscles gives way and pushes one finger all the way in, smooth slide to match the long breath he sighs out as it goes to force himself to relax - he's wound up too tight, too desperate.

Brendan studies his face, intent and predatory and completely, utterly focused, as he fingers him open roughly, pushing and twisting until Ste's whimpering and trembling against him from the hot pressure pressing against the inside of him. Ste quakes under the weight of that gaze every time; it's too much, too powerful with too much meaning behind it and it overwhelms him.

"Okay, okay, come on I'm gaggin' for it 'ere," he says roughly and Brendan puffs a laugh. Ste fumbles opens his trousers, spits into his own hand and strokes Brendan's dick quickly, spreads the slick pre-come as he goes. He hooks one hand around Brendan's neck and pulls him in close until their noses bump together, pumps his hand across the hard flesh and lines them up. The slow, burning slide of Brendan pushing into him is so satisfying and a long, low moan tears out of his throat and he pants against Brendan's mouth, centimetres away from his own. "Oh, God - "

"Not even close," Brendan growls, leans his weight against the desk with one hand and grips Ste's thigh with his other before he fucks him in earnest. It's quick and dirty, hard, fast strokes that punch through his whole body and hit him deep inside until he's tensing up, can feel the build of his orgasm dangerously close and intensely, ridiculously amazing. He rails against it, determined to win Brendan's little wager and tightens his muscles in a squeeze around Brendan's dick.

"Jesus - " Brendan chokes out and starts to shake. His eyelids flutter delicately and his fingernails tear into the skin of Ste's thigh and with the hand curled around Brendan's neck, Ste pulls him into a crushing, searing kiss, sucks on his tongue and angles his mouth to lick deep. Brendan's rhythm stutters, goes erratic and punishingly hard until he shudders and comes. He tears his mouth away, turns his face into the side of Ste's neck and moans, high and broken, and the sound of him desperately coming apart is so stunning, so searingly hot that he nearly loses control himself.

Ste wills himself back from the edge, distracts himself by threading his trembling fingers into Brendan's hair and soothing him down until he stops shaking and pulls back to look at him appraisingly. He's all soft and messy and surprised and Ste loves him like this.

"You little cheater," he laughs breathlessly and Ste bites his lip, pleased as punch. Brendan kisses him, curls his hands around both Ste's thighs and pushes him further back so that he can put his feet on the edge of the desk for balance. He spreads his palms against the wood to support himself back on his shaking arms and thinks he wouldn't be that surprised if he just collapsed and brained himself at this point.

Brendan replaces his softening dick with his fingers, pushes two into his already slick hole and presses up so hard and sudden that Ste gasps and arches right off the table until Brendan has to lay a firm hand across his middle to hold him down. "Deal's a deal," he says roughly and nuzzles his nose against Ste's chin until he tips his head back and he can plant a wet, sucking kiss against his Adam's apple before his head disappears down between Ste's legs.

Brendan sucks him down without any messing about, wet and clinging mouth and lips and tongue ohgodsoperfect, and Ste's head falls back, breath panting out of him raggedly. It takes less than a minute before heat floods through his insides, pressure building and building until his hands scrabble against the wood for something to cling to and he's shaking, violently and out of his control. Brendan doesn't let up, seals his lips around him tightly and swallows him all the way down until Ste feels the head of his dick bump the back of Brendan's throat and flutter and he's coming, hard and blinding, from the wet heat and the intense sensation of Brendan's long, dexterous fingers fucking him, rough and relentless and perfect.

"Help - " he chokes out when he can see again and his voice returns to him and Brendan stops nuzzling his lips against Ste's hip and peers up. His arms are trembling and he has exactly zero energy to support himself anymore and Brendan smirks at him smugly, wraps two strong arms around his waist and pulls him close so he's perched on the end of the desk slumping all of his weight onto the solid body in front of him. He gasps and tries to get his breathing back under control, peers at the clock vaguely. "Lunch."

"What?"

"I came to ask you if you wanted lunch," Ste explains stupidly. He just lost half his brain cells through his dick so he can be forgiven if he's a bit dippy right now. "And don't say I just ate, please."

Brendan snorts a laugh, open and goofy like he can't help it. "How did you know that I was gonna say that?"

"We've been spendin' far too much time together, clearly."

"Oh, charming." He gives Ste a playful little shove and he locks his ankles back into position around Brendan's back so he can't move away.

"No, I love it," he says softly, a little bashful and and he suddenly can't meet Brendan's eyes, thinks he might be blushing a bit. Brendan dips his head to catch his gaze, cups a hand around his cheek and strokes his thumb under his eye.

"You love it, huh?"

"Mmmhmm."

Brendan's eyes twinkle in the low light of the office and he looks so warm and thoughtful. "Yeah, me too."

fifteen days

"I'm just sayin', it's a bit weird that she hasn't even spoken about him in months and now he rocks up out of nowhere and they're suddenly a couple," Brendan huffs as he sets down the shopping bags against the table leg and sprawls himself all over a chair.

"Yeah it is a bit," Ste says agreeably, rolling his stiff shoulders and glad to dump his stuff finally.

He aches all over - six hours of Christmas shopping will do that to you. He'd started off like an excitable puppy, bouncing around with far too much energy until Brendan had physically restrained him right in the middle of the indoor market, wrapped him up, pinning his arms to his side, and physically lifted and carried him up an aisle before he'd promised to behave himself. It had lasted until they'd gotten to the 'Fairy Pants' stall and then they'd both just cracked up. Brendan had actually bought him a pink tutu for five quid and Ste had been in such a stupid mood that he'd promised to wear it on Christmas day.

Now he's exhausted and in desperate need of a pint. "Still, Nate seems like a nice enough bloke. Pint, yeah?"

Brendan nods at him. "Yeah they seem nice and then before you know it they're tucking their dicks between their legs and wearing your skin."

"Yeah I suppo - wait, what?"

"It's a film, I don't actually know someone who did that," Brendan says, exasperation and amusement colouring his expression.

"Oooh, well I'm sure if he is actually crazy he can't possibly be that bad. Back in a sec." He heads to the bar, can already see Darren eyeing up Brendan apprehensively and so thoroughly that he doesn't even notice Ste stood there waving his hand. He blows out a sigh. "What d'you think he's gonna do Darren?"

"Wha - nothing. I dunno what you're talkin' about," he splutters unconvincingly. "What can I get you?"

He orders the drinks and slumps against the bar, his back and legs killing him from all the walking. He's pretty pleased with his toys for the kids but he'd freaked out when Brendan had told him Declan and Padraig were coming to spend Christmas day with them and gone into some kind of weird overdrive panicking about what to buy them. He gets on well with Brendan's kids but he knows kids, especially stroppy teenagers - he was the king of wrong-un's after all, and they can be fickle. He wants to be the step-father sent from Lapland itself. He has enough issues with his own step-father to colour his views on the subject and, fucking Hell, did he just refer to himself as their step-father?

"Ste - " He snaps out of his bizarre thoughts to the sound of Darren whispering and gesturing him closer, leaning in like they're about to share a secret. "Does he ever say anything about me?"

Ste resists the urge to laugh and roll his eyes - what are they, fifteen year old girls? "Why? D'you want me to ask him out for you?"

"Wha - No! You might be mad enough to go out with him but I'd rather not get murdered in my sleep thanks very much!"

"Err, Darren!"

"I mean it, don't you worry about it at all?" he asks, completely serious and Ste really doesn't even know how to start explaining to someone that no he's not afraid that his boyfriend's going to kill him. He's spared the conversation, luckily, by the arrival of Nancy.

"Darren, Jack wants a word," she tells him and he gives Ste a wink and whispers, conspiratorially, "we'll talk later," to which Ste responds with a vaguely baffled nod. He turns to Nancy, full of thanks.

"Don't mention it - I'm used to doing that," she says with a sigh and a smile. "You know how insensitive he is."

"It's okay, It's not like I didn't know what I was lettin' myself in for."

"And yet you're still together."

"Nancy, please don't you start - "

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that," she interrupts and puts a hand on his arm. "He might be a mystery to most people around here but he's stood by two of my best friends when they needed him most - he can't be all that bad, can he?"

Ste looks across the bar, eyes drawn straight to Brendan instinctively like Ste's a compass and Brendan's his north. He's on the phone, arguing with someone by the looks of it, and he must sense the weight of Ste's stare because his eyes flick to the side and their gaze connects, instant spark between them even from yards away. Brendan mouths what and looks confused and Ste turns back to the bar to grab the drinks and hide his smile. "Damn right he's not."

"Anyway - " she adds, dry and amused, " - how do you think people looked at me when I told them I was marrying Darren Osbourne?"

seventeen days

It's the night before Christmas Eve and it's way past his kids bedtimes but they don't seem to care so Ste thinks, fuck it, they might actually sleep tomorrow night with any luck if they're knackered enough, and leaves them playing with Padraig on Brendan's living room floor. He thinks that Leah's fallen a little bit in love with Brendan's youngest, despite him having quite a few years on her yet, and he's been musing for the past five minutes whether that technically breaks come kind of incest law. He knows he must be tipsy when he's thinking about incest laws.

Brendan, however, is downright drunk. Not morbid, philosophy professor drunk like he sometimes gets, but open and shining and merrily drunk where he laughs easily and his eyes sparkle and everything that comes out of his mouth is pure comedy gold. He's talking now, gesturing out some story that he and Cheryl are jointly telling for Nate and Declan's entertainment, but Ste's not really listening to the words, he's too busy just watching, soaking him in and enjoying the warmth that pools through him when their eyes meet. Plus, he's already heard this story, the telling of it like a worn but comfortable t-shirt.

He wonders if they'll be a point in his life when every story will feel like that. Could he ever get bored of listening to Brendan talk? Could he ever imagine looking at him and not being constantly blind-sided by how gorgeous he is? He doesn't think it's possible.

"Come on, can we, Bren, please," Cheryl's saying, so high-pitched that Ste can't help but wince and take notice. He's surprised that he can even hear her since he's not a dog.

"Fine, but you're helping me make it - I can't even remember half the ingredients. Deccy, fetch me the cocktail pitcher from upstairs, your Auntie Chez uses it for tacky plastic flowers in the bathroom," he says and everyone but Ste and Nate suddenly vanishes from the around the table. Brendan grips his shoulder with one warm hand when he passes and Ste turns to look up at him, plants a soft kiss to his knuckles and scrunches up his nose when Brendan pokes it with his finger.

"He's different from when I first met him," Nate says thoughtfully from across the table. "I mean, there was some seriously weird shit going down that day."

Ste chuffs a laugh. "Yeah, there usually is where Brendan's concerned."

"He's alright, though. Not - " He halts, looks at Ste hesitatingly.

"Not what? Come on, whatever you're gonna say I've probably heard worse."

"Not completely mental?"

"Oh, he is," Ste says brightly, "you didn't notice? His sister's completely mental as well."

Nate laughs and and holds his hands out in surrender. "Yeah, okay, fair enough. I should of known really - their Nan stole my horse."

"Sounds about right," he chuckles.

"And Cheryl woke me up at half-past three this morning in a tizz because she didn't think she'd have enough string to wrap the turkey. Y'know, two whole days before Christmas."

"Yeah, well, Brendan wakes me up at half-past three in the morning if he gets bored and I don't mean in a good way, I mean because he wants to ask stupid questions about penguins or bicycles or the universe so count yourself lucky."

"I dunno, I give it a few weeks and I can see it happening."

"You plannin' on stickin' around that long then?" Ste asks carefully.

"You vetting me?"

"I might be. Brendan's not the only person she's got lookin' out for her."

"Yeah, I think I'd like to. If she'll have me that is," Nate tells him thoughtfully, hopefully, and Ste sees it, how much he cares about her.

"D'you love her?" he blurts out like a fucking idiot, mouth operating without brain again, and instantly wishes he could take it back because Cheryl is going to have his balls when all that's left of Nate is a man-shaped cloud as he bolts out the door but luckily he's not offended; he just chokes out a laugh and shrugs.

"I suppose I do, yeah," he says and even he sounds surprised by the revelation. "Travelled halfway across the country to come see her when I should be out getting myself a proper job; that must be love, right?"

"I guess - " Ste admits and he's close, so close to letting it all fall together into place but he's still fighting with it. He knows what he feels, knows exactly what it is - there's nothing else it can be, nothing else can leave him this amazed from the sheer magnitude of it, but he doesn't know how to bring it out into the open, how to take it and put it into those three words that he thinks constantly but doesn't know how to say. Nothing seems good enough or huge enough, it's never perfect enough. After everything they've been through, they deserve nothing less than perfect.

"You're tellin' me you're not a bloke hopelessly in love?" Nate asks him sceptically.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Sorry to say but it's all over both your faces, mate," he says with an easy smile, looks over Ste's shoulder and he turns to see Cheryl and Brendan returning to the table with Declan saddled with a pitcher filled to the brim with something and Christmas decorations, bits of plastic holly and toothpicks with tinsel on the end. "I'm guessing it ain't easy, though? Loving the Bradys?"

"Nope," Ste tells him honestly, "but trust me - it's worth every minute."

"I'll drink to that."

"What are we drinking to?" Cheryl asks loudly, plonks five glasses down on the table and starts to fill them.

"Christmas, obviously," Nate says brightly, gives Ste a wink to seal their little bonding moment and Cheryl cheers and falls into her chair. There's a minor kerfuffle next to Ste and he watches Brendan trying to wrestle a half full glass out of Declan's stubborn grip.

"This stuff is lethal, I don't want you puking your guts up all night."

"I'm not a kid, Dad," he argues while simultaneously trying to bite his father. They're so alike sometimes it's scary.

Brendan throws up his hands and sits down. "Steven," he says with a sigh, catching Ste's attention. "What d'you think? Shall we let him have it?"

His heart clenches violently on that we again and his breath catches in his throat. He looks into Brendan's warm gaze, sees so much trust there that he doesn't know what to do with, doesn't know how he'll live up to it but it means the world to him and he'll do whatever it takes to make it grow and flourish into something even greater, something solid and forever. They're having a moment right across their chattering family and Ste swallows thickly, turns his best 'dad smile' on Declan, long-suffering and indulgent. "Go on then, just the one. If you do end up chucking your guts up, though, make sure you do it quietly; we've got a busy day tomorrow."

Declan's pleased as any teenager who's just been given hard-liquor and Brendan watches him from the head of the table with a small but brilliant smile. Ste tips his glass towards him and thinks, it's perfect, right now it's perfect, and mouths the words 'I love you'.

almost-eighteen days

It's two am and all the kids except Declan are in bed. Him and Nate are playing a furious and frankly violent game of Subbuteo across the dining table and Ste would love to know where the fuck Cheryl dredged that up from, it looks about twenty years old and Ste doesn't want to touch it, not for one second. Her and Brendan are tidying up the kitchen and Ste watches all of it from where he's leaning against the frame in the open front door, cold air trailing over his flushed skin and mingling pleasantly with the warm wash of alcohol down his throat and through his bloodstream as he sips from his glass.

He feels content in a way that he often does these days. Something about having everything he wants suits him, unsurprisingly, and he allows himself these little moments of smug happiness because he fucking deserves them, thank you very much. He'd never thought he deserved much of anything at all but now he doesn't fight with it. If men like him and Brendan can change and make themselves better, if they can hurt people and earn forgiveness, if they can suffer and come out of the other side in one piece, then surely that's good enough? Surely that makes them worthy.

The village is lit up, fairy lights draped through the trees and across the bridge and wreaths hanging on the lampposts, ribbons fluttering in the chilly breeze. There's a covering of thick, silvery-white frost over everything and the moon bathes the balcony in enough pale light to make it twinkle. Having kids has made him appreciate Christmas in a way he didn't know how to when he was younger. If his scally little teenager self could hear him waxing all poetic about fairy lights right now it'd kick him in the balls and probably, completely unironically, call him gay.

"Hey," Brendan's soft voice says at his shoulder. "Come outside with me?"

Ste doesn't say anything, just steps out onto the path and leans his forearms against the railings while Brendan shuts the door behind them, muffling the sounds of music and the foul-mouthed abuse of tiny plastic footballers. He comes up behind Ste and leans against the length of his back, hands at either side of his own on the wrought iron.

"Gizza sip," Brendan says after a moment and Ste moves his glass over his shoulder, presses it to Brendan's mouth and tips carefully until he swallows. He pulls it back and it spills slightly, leaving a drop clinging to Brendan's bottom lip which Ste sucks off with a quick dart forward and a satisfied hum. "It's been an alright night, hasn't it?"

"Mmm, it's been mint," Ste agrees, tipping his head to rest his temple against Brendan's and putting his glass on the stone support beside him. "The kids 'ave really enjoyed it. I think Nate's your new biggest fan."

"Apart from you y'mean?"

"Nurr, obviously," he says dopily and snorts an undignified laugh.

"Well, I'll give you this one: the bloke's not bad, even if he doesn't have a proper job, is shagging my sister and is basically a hobo."

"I don't think he'd appreciate you puttin' it like that but awww, look at you," Ste croons, nuzzles his nose against Brendan's cheek, "trying to like the bloke that's nobbin' your sister."

"Oh, that's just - nobbing? Really?"

"You're well and truly reformed. They'll be callin' you Saint Brendan next - "

"Shut up, you," he growls and pulls his arms tightly around Ste's waist, digs his fingers into his sides until he squirms and laughs and tries to pry him off.

"Don't go getting preisty-fied, though, I enjoy shaggin' you too much."

"Priesty-fied? Nobbing? You're just makin' words up right now."

"Nah, look it up. Nobbing. It's the verb of 'nob', means 'to nob'," he says and collapses into giggles in Brendan's arms. He feels Brendan shake his head against the side of his neck and he knows that he's laughing too, can feel it in the rise and fall of his chest against his back.

"Where did you come from?" he suddenly asks, voice warm and still filled with amusement.

"Manchester, where'd you think?"

"Noooo," Brendan tuts. "I mean, where did you come from? You just rock up into my club, blackmailing me for a job and now, here I am, having Christmas parties with both our kids and - "

"And what?" he prompts when Brendan doesn't go on.

"Turn around, I wanna - " He grips Ste's hands and twirls him out like they're dancing. Brendan's eyes are huge and wide and twinkling in the lights from the street and he looks fascinated and determined. Ste waits him out and bloody hell is it worth it. "I wanna look at you when I tell you that I love you."

He feels his face split into the widest smile because Brendan says it with complete and utter certainty, no hint of hesitation or doubt. He says it like it's something he cherishes, like it's something he understands. Like he's not afraid of loving Ste anymore.

"Well, you're in good hands then. I love you, too."

"Oooh, is that what you were tryin' to tell me inside?" Brendan asks with a barely contained smirk. "I thought you were saying 'I'd do you' and I was just like, well, yeah, tell me something I don't know."

"Very funny," Ste scoffs and shoves him but Brendan tightens his grip and pulls him close again, palms pressing warmly against his sides and bodies flush together.

"Thank you," Brendan says softly, voice barely more than a whisper.

"What for?"

"I dunno, coming to Dublin? Blackmailing me for a job? Making me - no - " he stutters and pauses, flounders for the words he wants to say, " - for giving me a reason to be better."

"Brendan - " he breathes, completely overwhelmed as if I love you wasn't enough to already almost give him a heart attack. He feels filled with something bright and white-hot, like someone's pouring molten metal right into him and it's spreading to fill every gap until he's ready to burst. It's huge and all consuming and he finally gets it: it wasn't just Brendan that didn't understand what love really meant.

"I know it ain't always gonna be easy but I'm in this for good, okay?"

For good. Forever. The rest of their lives, him and Brendan. A we. A they, a them. He can't lose this, not ever - he thinks it might kill him. "Yeah, me too," he says seriously, completely open, everything on display right there for Brendan to see and take and do what he wants with. He gives himself over to it, unafraid and perfectly trusting. "Easy's way overrated anyway."

"Right?"

"Right. At this point we can get through pretty much anything, don't you think?"

Brendan hesitates, looks down and away from him. "I hope so."

Ste touches his face, presses his fingers under Brendan's chin and tries to make eye contact. "What's up?"

"Nothin'," he says and smiles. "Story for another day, definitely not one for Christmas."

"But I'm gonna get to hear it?"

"Yeah, I promise. On your life, I promise."

Ste thinks that's enough. There's things he doesn't know about Brendan, although every day the list gets smaller, and there's things that Brendan doesn't know about him. It's okay, though, because he's absolutely secure in the knowledge that they have a lifetime together to learn.