As we fall apart

Introduction ~ March 2014

"I don't get it!"

"It was so out of the blue!"

"Just like that - what? We're done?"

That was all Dec had said since he'd half-battered Ant's front door down, skulking inside without greeting the other man. Ant, used to his best friend's short temper, hadn't made the smart comment about leaving his shoes on the mat or shutting the door behind him, more than aware of the cloud hanging over Dec's head. Instead, he'd followed him through to his own living room, perching on the arm of the sofa and watching the other man pace backwards and forwards between the coffee table and the wall, occasionally spitting out these enigmatic phrases.

It was easy enough to guess what had happened. But Ant couldn't wrap his head around the why. He wanted to ask and knew he would have to eventually if he wanted to help either of them. And he got the impression that it was both of them he would need to help, knowing that Dec would be an unreliable narrator in it all, that Stephen probably had some underlying reason behind what he'd clearly just done. He hoped that was the case anyway – he wasn't in the mood to lose one of his closest friends over this but knew he wouldn't hesitate to if Dec had been unfairly hurt.

First though, the problem of getting Dec to calm down enough to tell the whole story. He was in the process of wearing away a strip of carpet as he stomped backwards and forwards, the force of his turn at the end of each pace making Ant's head spin. He got up from his seat by the door, following Dec along his latest run and then stopping patiently, waiting for him to turn around. When he did, finding himself stopped in his tracks, he merely glowered at Ant. As angry as he looked, Ant knew his silence meant he was waiting to hear out whatever it was Ant had to say - which was a good start.

"You gonna explain what's happened, Doolittle?" he asked gently, knowing his own tone of voice vastly paled in comparison to Dec's. If he were going to be shouted over, Dec would have no problem overpowering him.

"Why did he have to try and be nice about it, man?" Dec scuffed his shoes together, finally taking stock of himself. He took the long way round the coffee table to sidestep Ant and collapsed gracelessly onto the sofa. His hand scraped frustratedly over his face, lingering slightly too long in the corners of his eyes as his fingers pressed hard and then swiped across his skin. He wasn't that angry really; in fact, Ant knew he was overwhelmingly upset. It would take time for him to admit that to himself though.

"We're talking about Stevie here?" Ant said eventually, keen to kickstart the proper conversation. Dec rolled his eyes with a forced derision at their shared nickname for the younger man, returning his gaze to the floor as he leant over to undo his shoelaces. It was a little pointless, given that he'd just walked all over the carpet, but the smaller actions gave him an excuse to waste time, to keep his eyes down. Ant waited patiently.

"He started saying all this stuff," Dec mumbled. Ant kept quiet, only a little frustrated with Dec's frayed narrative and hoping his silence would serve as a request for more detail. "He apologised... said it was him and everything. He thinks it's best for both of us if we..."

It didn't make a lot of sense, even with some more context.  There had already been plenty of hurdles that could have put them off, but they'd never faltered, desperate enough to keep what they had that they'd be willing to overcome almost anything to keep it. Ant had the privilege of seeing a little more than other people; the soft smiles in private, the comforting glances in public, that unwavering belief that what they had was worth fighting for.

"He really didn't explain where this has all come from?" Ant asked, trying and failing to keep the disbelief from his tone. He knew Dec had a tendency to block out all rational arguments when he got in a certain mood, not that he wanted to bring that up now whilst he'd got the other man confiding in him. The last thing any of them needed was another argument. "Last time I saw you two – everything seemed fine..."

"It was fine," Dec interjected firmly. He finally looked up, so intent on persuading Ant that he was right that hiding his red eyes was no longer a priority. It weakened his resolve, looking Ant in the face as he spoke, and left his voice a ghost of its former self. "Or, you know, he's been the same since November. He's definitely quieter right now, kind of stuck in his own head, but we were fine..."

"And nothing's happened?"

"I don't know!" Dec's voice rose again then fell apologetically. "I don't know" – he sighed, his hands covering his face again briefly – "Maybe I'm just trying to kid myself but he almost sounded like he didn't believe what he was saying. Not like that was enough to stop him." The bitterness had returned, even as they seemed close to making a breakthrough.

If Stephen hadn't really wanted to say anything, then someone must have got into his head over it.

"What if he's done something?" Dec asked out of the blue. It was one of those questions that made it clear he was grasping at straws, trying to make a villain out of Stephen when that angle didn't really exist. "Maybe he just – regretted it enough that breaking up with me was better for his guilty conscience..."

"Come on, Decs," Ant said quietly, "We both know that's not true."

"But why else would he do it?" Dec asked again loudly, his voice cracking, "I haven't given him one single reason to... and he still goes and does it... like the last couple of years have meant nothing!" He growled out the remainder of his frustration through clenched teeth and then sunk his head back into his hands. Ant took that as his cue to sit alongside him, draping an arm over his back and resting his chin on the crown of his head.

Dec's shoulders shook against his chest, making his own eyes sting determinedly. He blinked away the feeling, pushing it down as far as he could manage. Dec had been reluctant to divulge his feelings for Stephen for quite some time. Even after he'd come out to Ant, it had taken a while for him to admit there was something about the younger man that had stolen his attention and never quite let it go. As soon as he'd said it, Ant had struggled to think of two people better suited to each other.

Much to the prospective Cupid's disappointment, Dec had kept his cards close to his chest, never letting Ant try and work his magic. But since Stephen had been around, he'd become number two only to Dec in Ant's eyes, as fiercely loyal as a friend as he was to Dec in their relationship. The three of them got on too well for Ant to feel like a third wheel; it wasn't as if much changed between Dec and Stephen anyway. They still mocked each other endlessly, joking with one another into oblivion.

That was their relationship at the surface level. Deeper, there were complications, things that other people didn't have to deal with. Ant got used to telling the good days from the bad, already tuned in to Dec's fluctuating moods but developing a similar barometer for Stephen.

The younger man was a chronic worrier, despite his generally positive outlook. Ant understood that he had issues with some of his family, fortunately not his parents, which had left him with things to work through – things he evidently hadn't worked through. And Dec was still getting over those years during their teens when he'd silently struggled with where his identity and his religion intersected.

Having got through all of that, Ant had thought nothing was going to send it all crashing down.

Dec's head buried in his jumper suggested otherwise.

"He must have his reasons," Ant suggested tentatively, continuing despite the way Dec had tensed. At times he was like a predator, winding up in his anger and getting ready to pounce. "I'm sure there's been a misunderstanding. He'll explain himself when he gets his head straight."

Dec laughed drily, mask reinstated to hide his real anguish over what had happened. He would mourn his relationship in private until he was ready to cry on Ant's shoulder properly. Until then, Ant would have to put up with this stubborn anger; directed at Stephen or elsewhere.

He gave himself the day to make sure his best friend was coping as well as he could and planned to see Stephen the next morning. His own head was still reeling, struggling to picture everything returning to how it had been when Stephen had been a far less prominent figure in the equation.

It just didn't make any sense.