This fic is the result of an over-abundance of footie-slash and a distinct lack of sleep. The author apologizes for any agony it may cause.

Disclaimer: I do not own Green Street Hooligans.

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As Pete looked up into Tommy's rage-filled eyes, he knew, without a doubt, that he was going to die. There would be no shaking this one off. He wouldn't be going down to the pub with the lads, laughing off another brush with death.

Pete shut his eyes as Tommy drew back his fist for another crushing blow. The sounds of the fight faded around him. None of that mattered now. His brother's family was safe. Matt was safe.

The blow never came and the weight on his chest lifted. Pete opened his eyes to the most glorious sight ever.

Matt stood over the prone form of Tommy, two-by-four in hand, like an avenging angel. An almost-mad light shone deep in his blue eyes. He threw down the board and dropped to his knees beside Pete.

"Stupid Bastard," Matt choked out as he wrapped his arms around Pete's shoulders, helping him into a sitting position.

Pete stifled a moan as he let Matt help him stand. Matt had gotten to Tommy before he'd done any real damage, but he'd be sporting quite a few impressive bruises in a few hours. Leaning heavily on Matt, he tried to make his way over to the fallen Tommy.

"No," Matt said forcefully as he dragged Pete toward Shannon's car. "This is a fight to finish another day."

In the melee no one seemed to notice as the auto peeled out of the lot, Bovver at the wheel, leaving the inert form of Tommy sprawled next to an inconspicuous wood board.

The drive to the hospital was tense, Shannon staring mutely forward, refusing to look at her brother or brother-in-law. A few silent tears slid down her cheeks. Bovver spent more time looking in the rearview than he did at the road.

Upon entering the hospital, the ragtag group was accosted by the horrified emergency staff. As Pete was whisked away to be seen to, in his last sight of Matt, before he was carted off, he was in a heated discussion with his sister.

Pete looked up at the soft rap on the door to the hospital room. Matt stood in the doorway. Pete stared at him wordlessly for a long moment before he turned his attention back to redressing.

"I talked to Shannon," Matt spoke. "She's going to stay with a friend while Steve's in the hospital."

Pete said nothing as he pulled on his shirt.

Matt once again broke the silence as it grew oppressive. "Bovver's going to take us back to your place, then take Shannon and Ben… wherever."

That piece of information earned Matt a look and an upraised eyebrow.

Matt shrugged. "He seems to think it's owed."

Pete cast a glance around the room before stepping up to Matt. "Not leavin' then?" He asked, his face frustratingly bland.

Matt shrugged again. He resisted the urge to squirm in discomfort as Pete's eyes seemed look through him.

Pete turned without a word and strode off down the hall, leaving Matt to scramble to catch up.

If the trip to the hospital had been tense, the ride to Pete's flat was nigh unbearable. Pete rode shotgun as Bovver tried too hard to avoid looking at Pete, while Pete stared out the window.

Matt had to stop himself from vaulting out of the car when it finally came to a stop. Pete sat silently for a few moments before unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding out. He turned around, resting a hand against the car roof.

"Bov," he said, staring at Bovver with almost the same intensity as he had at Matt in the hospital.

Bovver turned his head slowly, a miserable look on his face. Their eyes met and Pete nodded sharply. All of the tension and guilt that had weighed heavy on Bovver's shoulders, hunching him over the wheel, melted away. Pete slammed the door and took a step back, watching as Bovver pulled away.

Pete turned to face Matt who was standing awkwardly on the sidewalk. Without a word, he turned and made his way up the steps.

Matt followed, his feet dragging, not able to suppress his rising tide of foreboding. When he reached Pete's flat, the door was open, but Pete was nowhere to be seen. Stifling a sigh, Matt stepped inside, locking the door behind him.

His eyes widened and he let out a strangled oath as Pete grabbed him by the jacket and slammed him against the door.

"Don't you fuckin' do somethin' like that again." Pete hissed in Matt's face.

Matt stared at him with big, blue, oh-so-confused eyes. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Pete pulled him forward and then slammed him back against the door. "You could have fuckin' died!" Pete shouted.

Matt just looked up at him, the tide of confusion receded as the light of realization dawned. The docks. He's talking about the fight.

Pete's eyes filled with an unnamed emotion and he drew back. Matt braced himself for the blow he was sure was to come.

The attack that came was not what he was expecting. Pete's mouth crashed down on Matt's with brutal force. Matt's head cracked against the door and the taste of blood flooded his mouth. Pete tongue flicked at Matt's lips once before forcing past them into Matt's mouth, chasing the coppery tang.

Pete broke the kiss and they stared at one another, breathing heavily.

Matt looked Pete straight in the eye. "You have," he panted. "Some fucking double standards." He reached up and yanked Pete's head down to fuse their mouths together once more.

They briefly fought for dominance, tongues clashing as teeth clacked together. But soon enough, Pete won control of the kiss.

He pressed Matt against the door roughly, hips grinding against hips. Matt tore his mouth away with a half stifled moan, his fingers digging into Pete's back.

Pete placed biting kisses down the pale column of Matt's throat. And Matt knew, without a doubt, that Pete was branding him. Just as surely as the tattoo had marked him GSE, Pete was possessing him now with his scalding kisses.

Pete stepped backward, pulling Matt away from the door frame that was digging uncomfortably into his spine. Once they were away from the door, Pete's mouth trailed back up Matt's neck to seal their mouths together. He walked Matt backward, easily maneuvering them around the furniture in his flat, while still maintaining full-body contact.

An eternity and an instant later, Matt felt the edge of Pete's bed against the back of his knees. Pete pulled away, breaking the heated kiss. Matt could feel Pete tense against him, the muscles under his hands going taut. His eyes roved Matt's face, searching for an answer.

Matt smiled faintly and lurched up to press his lips to Pete's. This answer seemed to have been the correct response. Pete's lips parted to deepen the kiss, one arm tightening around Matt's waist while the other slide up to cradle the base of Matt's skull.

Matt let out a whuff of surprise when the arm around his waist tossed him onto the bed. His eyes sprang open to see Pete looming over him with a playfully leering grin.

Later, lying in a tangle of sweaty limbs, Pete's arms wrapped around him tightly, Matt came to a realization.

This was home.

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So, yeah, this fic was written in the wee hours of the morning over the course of several days. Please excuse any grammatical errors and just plain craptastic-ness. Concrit is quite welcome.