above all (m×m) ✔

23) making progress

"Who is Treyton?" Steven asked, seeing how color drained from Brandon's face. He noticed everything from the cautious glimpse Brandon sent way and how the surface of his tea rippled when his hands trembled.

"He's no one." Brandon lied and angled his body away from Steven, who tried his best to not feel hurt by it, and then hissed at Shirley: "And he's not out for another year."

"I hate to break this to you, but there's this thing called early release, and we both know how charming he can be if he wants to." Shirley insisted, setting her untouched tea on the coffee table.

"He's in prison?" Steven questioned, but neither of the twins acknowledged him in any way. Was he being muted?

"No, it's not him. Someone would have contacted me.." Brandon muttered, keeping his gaze lowered.

"Yeah, I guess, but it's still possible." Shirley wouldn't budge, and finally Brandon lifted his head to look at her. His eyes were pained and stormy, like he was holding back emotions too enormous to feel. "Come on, Brandon, you know it is. I don't feel comfortable with you staying here alone, so at least move to my place until we've found out if he's out or not."

Brandon shook his head and bit his lower lip so hard it likely drew out blood. He opened his mouth but then closed it, giving another shake to his head. The apartment grew so quiet Steven could hear someone snoring in the apartment above them. It made him realize how late it must have been by then, but he had no delusions of sleeping any time soon.

"Can someone please tell me who the hell are we talking about?" Steven asked after a prolonged silence.

"Treyton is —" Shirley began.

"No, I don't want to talk about him." Brandon cut her short, his gaze pointed when it swept from Shirley to Steven and back. Again, Steven swallowed back the hurt of knowing Brandon didn't trust him enough to tell him about this Treyton guy.

"If Treyton is out, Steven needs to know what kind of risk he's taking." Shirley snapped, then collected herself and continued in a much softer tone: "It's not my story to tell, but I will tell it to him, if you don't."

"I don't.." Brandon stammered, and Steven leaned closer to gently pry the tea mug off his shaking hands before he spilled the hot liquid. Brandon's eyes darted to Steven, startled by the movement, but he let Steven take the mug and sighed. Before he continued, he sent a sharp glare at Shirley. "He's my ex, who is violent, obsessive and very much still in prison."

Steven's chest tightened at the words, or more precisely, all the words Brandon left unsaid. It didn't take a genius to put the rest together. Steven clenched his hand into a tight fist, then released it and clenched it again, studying the tendons at the back of his hand shifting along with the movement. Until he felt Brandon's hand, cold despite the heat in the apartment, closing around his fist. His thumb drew soothing circles along Steven's knuckles, like he was the one who needed comfort.

"Well, that's one way to summarize it." Shirley mumbled, looking like she was doing her best to hold back a few points she wanted to add. "But seriously, Treyton is dangerous, and if he has been here.."

"Brandon can stay at my place." Steven offered, not having to consider it for even a minute. When he spoke next, he used a tone that suggested it had already been decided: "I have more than enough room for both of us, and Fitzgerald will be over the moon to have you there."

Relief flooded in Brandon's eyes and his taut shoulders relaxed a fraction, when he turned to study Steven's expression. He was looking for something, some sort of a confirmation, with that intense stare, but Steven wasn't sure what it was. All he could do was hope Brandon could see that he meant every word.