Ant and Dec One Shots

Breaking The Silence

Stephen sighed as he closed the door to his flat, the lock clicking into place behind him. The silence of the room enveloped him immediately, but instead of comfort, it felt suffocating. He dropped his bag by the door and kicked off his shoes, his body moving automatically, though his mind was elsewhere. Another long day on set with Ant and Dec teasing him about his eating habits had left him feeling drained.

The same jokes, day after day.
"Stephen's brought a child's portion again."
"Careful, mate, don't get full on that."
"Are you sure you're not saving room for dessert?"

At first, he'd laughed. It was easier to play along, to pretend their teasing didn't sting. But as the weeks went on, the comments stuck with him longer. They echoed in his head when he sat down to eat, louder than the growl of his stomach. He began skipping meals, telling himself he wasn't that hungry anyway. When he did eat, it was the bare minimum-a piece of toast in the morning, maybe a protein bar if he felt shaky.

The worst part wasn't the hunger. It was the doubt he felt. Did Ant and Dec even realise how much their words hurt? Or worse, did they know and just not care?

Stephen wandered into the kitchen, his stomach twisting in a mix of hunger and nerves. He stared at the loaf of bread and jar of peanut butter he'd left out that morning. He'd planned to make a sandwich after work, but the thought of eating made him feel... guilty? Embarrassed? He wasn't even sure anymore.

A loud knock at the door startled him out of his spiral. His heart raced as he wiped his hands on his jeans, hesitating. He wasn't in the mood to see anyone, but the knocking came again, softer this time.

"Stephen? It's Dec. Are you in there, mate?"

Dec's voice was gentle but insistent, and Stephen felt his chest tighten. He opened the door just a crack, enough to see Dec standing there, his expression one of concern.

"Hey," Dec said, offering a small smile. "Can I come in?"

Stephen hesitated before stepping aside. He didn't say anything as Dec walked into the flat, his gaze sweeping the room like he was trying to read Stephen's mood.

"You alright?" Dec asked, sitting down on the sofa and patting the cushion beside him. "You've seemed... different lately. Quiet. I just wanted to check on you."

Stephen crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame, his head dipped so his fringe hid his eyes. "I'm fine," he muttered, though his voice lacked conviction.

"Stephen." Dec's tone was soft but firm, like he wasn't going to let it drop. "I know when something's bothering you. You can talk to me, you know that, right?"

Stephen's throat tightened. He wanted to brush it off, to say he was just tired, but the words caught in his chest. Before he could stop himself, the truth tumbled out.

"It's the jokes," he said, his voice trembling. "You and Ant. About my eating."

Dec blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"

Stephen ran a hand through his hair, pacing a little. "The comments. The teasing. It's every day, Dec. And I know you probably think it's funny, but it's not. It's not funny."

Dec's brows furrowed, and he leaned forward. "Stephen, we were just messing about. We never meant to-"

"But you did!" Stephen snapped, surprising both of them. His voice cracked, and he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "It's been weeks, Dec. Weeks of the same jokes, and now every time I try to eat, I hear your voices in my head. I feel... ashamed, like there's something wrong with me and then I can't eat."

Dec's face crumpled, guilt hitting him like a punch to the stomach. "Stephen... I didn't know. I swear I didn't realise it was affecting you like this. I'm so sorry."

Stephen sniffed, his eyes burning. "I haven't been eating properly. I've been skipping meals, barely eating enough to get through the day. I wanted to tell you, but I was scared you'd just laugh or call me dramatic."

Dec stood and crossed the room in a few quick steps, pulling Stephen into a hug. He felt Stephen stiffen at first but didn't let go, his arms wrapping tightly around him.

"I'm sorry," Dec said again, his voice thick with emotion. "We thought we were being funny, but we weren't. We were being thoughtless. You mean the world to us, Stephen. I hate that we made you feel like this."

Stephen hesitated before leaning into the hug, his own arms coming up to wrap around Dec. The tears he'd been holding back finally spilled over, and he let himself cry into Dec's shoulder.

Dec held him close, rubbing soothing circles on his back. "You should've told us sooner, mate. We'd never want to hurt you. Ant and I love you like family. We'll stop the jokes, I promise. I'll talk to Ant tonight. This won't happen again."

Stephen pulled back slightly, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his jumper. "Thanks, Dec," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Dec gave him a small, reassuring smile. "You don't have to thank me. I just hate that you've been dealing with this on your own. From now on, we're going to do better. And if you ever feel like this again, you have to tell us, alright?"

Stephen nodded, feeling a small weight lift from his chest.

"Now," Dec said, his tone brightening as he squeezed Stephen's shoulder, "how about I make us some proper dinner? Something hearty. No jokes, no teasing-just food and a mate looking out for you."

Stephen let out a shaky laugh, the sound warming Dec's heart. "Yeah," he said. "I think I'd like that."

As Dec busied himself in the kitchen, Stephen sat on the sofa, the scent of something cooking filling the flat. For the first time in weeks, he felt a flicker of hope-a sense that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as alone as he'd feared.