TW: Major Character Death, Angst

Chapter One: Sneaking Out

Quietly, Smith crept over to the window and opened it, being careful to not make a sound. It was 12:43 at night, and he was sneaking out to meet up with Ross for something 'important' he'd been bugging him about all week. What could be so important that he couldn't talk about it with Trott? It better be something good, or else Smith was not going to be happy. He was losing precious sleep time doing this.

He shoved some clothes under his quilt to make it look like someone was there if anyone should come in, and he chucked on his jacket and zipped it up, throwing a scarf around his neck. It was the middle of winter for christsakes. He gave himself one quick check over in the mirror, his hair was a mess but it's not like it wasn't every day. Although he'd known Ross since he was a little kid, there was something in him that made him want to impress him every time he saw him...

Smith climbed out of the window, luckily his room was on the ground floor so there wasn't a drop. He shut it carefully behind him and bolted across the front drive, just in case his parents woke up and decided to check the front drive for some reason. The air smelt fresh, the ominous sky was like an ocean looming above him. There was something wonderfully terrifying about being outside at night... he liked it.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and out of habit, he pulled it out to see who it was from

Ross: Hey mate where are you? I'm at the car park already and it's freezing so hurry the fuck up.

Smith felt confused. The car park? Why there? He began to jog towards the shopping centre, which was only a few minutes from his house. By the time he'd arrived at the car park, he couldn't even see Ross on the roof, the sky and the building blended together as one.

Smith: Mate I can't see you up there? I'll be up in a few I gotta find the lift. This better be worth it, I'm telling you. Else there'll be trouble. Jk.

Ross peered over the side of the building; below he could see Smith staring up at him as he walked into the car park to take the lift up. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to calm his nerves

He's your friend, Ross, he's not going to kill you. He loves you.

Ross shook his head. Smith did love him, but not the way he loved Smith back. That's why he was here. He had to tell him. Now, or never.

He carried on staring at the street below, only an occasional car passed by. What was taking Smith so long? Just as he began to turn to go down and find him, Smith came bursting through the door.

"Sorry... lift... broken.. had to take the stairs." Smith panted, keeling forwards and wrapping an arm across his stomach as he tried to get rid of his stitch and gain his breath back.

Ross chuckled and walked over to him, admiring how his hair had somehow managed to stay intact after all that exercise.

"So now I'm here" Smith managed, standing back up and tussling his hair again, "What do you want me for, what's so important?"

"Nothing I just wanted to see if you'd do what I told you." He replied in a monotone voice, a smile creasing up his face.

"Are you being serio---" Smith started, before he was interrupted by Ross' laughter.

"I'm joking, I do have something important to say." Ross replied, gesturing his hand towards the floor of the car park. The pair of them sat down together, leaning against the wall.

"Why couldn't you just tell me at school, or tell me around Trott?" Smith questioned, still slightly confused at Ross' timing issues.

"Because I don't want Trott to find out just yet. I mean, it's about you." Ross mumbled, biting his lip with anticipation, as usual.

Unsure of what was to come, Smith pressed on.

"Go on... tell me, what's up? Have I done something to upset you?" Smith asked, gazing at Ross, who's head was now staring at the floor as he played with the little stones.

"You haven't done anything.. it's just.. nevermind, it doesn't matter." Ross sighed, kicking himself mentally.

"Listen up you little shit, you've made me sneak out and possible get grounded, tell me what's up, don't make me force it out of you. You've started so you've might as well carry on." Smith continued, still looking at Ross, who looked like he was about to cry.

"I..I think... fuck." Why was this so hard? "For fuck sakes I think I'm love." Ross burst out, tears began to brim in his eyes.

"Who are you in love with, Ross?" Smith asked, trying to console his friend as best as he could.

"He's sitting on this roof with me right now." Ross hung his head in shame and brought his knees up to his chin. There goes his friendship. He didn't even want to look at Smith, he was pretty sure he'd run off by now. All Ross could do was bawl his eyes out and leave tear prints on his jeans.

Chapter Two: Unexpected

Smith was too surprised to say anything. He had so many questions bubbling up in his mind. Why? How long? What made him so special? But he didn't say anything, instead he just wrapped his arm around Ross' neck and shoulder and pulled him in towards his chest. Ross didn't say anything, but he just kept on crying as he buried his head into Smith's chest. Smith had no clue what to do, or what to even say, he'd never been very good at expressing emotions, his friends had made that pretty clear to him ages ago.

"Mate, if I'd had known the waterworks would burst today I would've brought some tissues with me!" Smith nervously joked, but after not hearing Ross laugh, he immediately regretted saying it. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it in that way, you know I'm shit at talking about these things."

Ross sniffled and rubbed his eyes with his hand, they were all puffy and swollen from crying. He didn't really want to speak first, but the pair of them were waiting for the silence to be broken.

"Ross, can I ask you something? Well, a couple of questions actually." Smith started, still unsure of what to do.

Ross nodded silently, continuing to stare at the floor as he tried to stop crying.

"How.. how long have you liked me? And why?"

"For a long time really, remember we were at Lewis' party 2 years ago, and we all got drunk and I ended playing spin the bottle and kissing you? Well yeah. Since then. That was probably the best night of my life and every day has been shit since then because I couldn't ever bring myself to tell you. And why? Because honestly you're beautiful with an amazing smile that makes my heart do backflips but at the end of the day I knew you'd never date me because of my looks and how boring I am so I didn't see the point in saying anything to you."

Smith let a grin spread up the side of his face. Did Ross really think all of that about him? He was quite adorable, and Smith did quite clearly remember that night... he remembered blushing and feeling a sudden urge to grab and kiss him again. It was definitely a night he wouldn't ever forget.

"I don't recall ever saying anything about not wanting to date you." Smith grinned, offering Ross his hand to stand up. Ross perked up and grabbed Smith's hand, pulling himself to his feet. The two stood there facing each other, Smith still holding Ross' hand.

Ross looked up through his lashes into Smith's eyes: a bluish-steel of a midwinter's sky that breathtakingly glistened in the light. He felt overwhelmed with sudden desire and lust he began to lick his lips subconsciously. Smith's eyes darted to Ross' lips and he leant down slightly, bringing his hands up to cup Ross' soft cheeks. He paused for a moment, wanting to be able to remember everything the next day; the taste, the smells, everything.

"Smith... what are you doing?" Ross asked, confoundment written across his face. He thought Smith didn't like him. So why was he trying to kiss him?

Smith said nothing, but he brought his finger to Ross' lips to silence him. A smile curled at the corner of Ross' mouth and Smith leant forward and pressed an adroit kiss to his soft lips. Ross couldn't help but bring his hands up to caress Smith's face and kiss him back, sharing languid movements between the pair of them.

When Smith finally pulled away, Ross gave a sheepish grin and pulled Smith into a hug. His chin rested comfortably on Smith's shoulder, he didn't want to move. He wanted to cherish this moment forever. Smith felt warm flushed against his chest, the cold was making him shiver.

"I didn't expect that." Ross mumbled into Smith's ear, the cold air causing his breath to mist up and form a cloud as it left his mouth. Entwining his fingers with Ross', Smith pulled out of the hug and exchanged a grin with him.

"That's why I did it, I wanted to see-----" He began, but then his phone began to ring in his pocket. Who would ring him at this time at night, or should he say morning?

He took the phone out of his pocket and checked the caller ID before accepting. His grin dropped and his eyes widened when he saw who it was.

Oh shit.

Chapter Three: This Isn't A Goodbye, It's A See You Later

"Oh God, Ross. I'm in deep deep shit if I take this call." Smith muttered, carding his finger nervously through his hair. "Fuck!" His hands began to shake and Ross thought Smith was about to throw his phone off the roof, or collapse on the ground.

"Then don't take it, just decline the call." Ross offered, encircling his arms around Smith's waist. Smith shook him off, now wasn't the time. Ross felt slightly hurt but there was something desperately wrong. Smith furrowed his brow and paced up and down nervously whilst the phone rang.

"But if I don't take the call I'm in deep deep shit. It's a catch-22. This is BULLSHIT!" Smith shouted, causing a few crows to scatter from the tree opposite the car park roof.

"Who is it? Surely it's not going to be that bad?" Ross asked, bringing his hands up to fan through his hair as he bit his lip.

"It's mum." Silence fell between them besides the phone, which would not stop ringing.

Smith apprehensively accepted the call, what could possibly go wrong? It was only his mum, after all.

Everything could go wrong. Everything in the whole world could collapse on him at once like a intense game of Jenga.

"Oh, Hi mu--"

"ALEX SMITH! WHERE ARE YOU. WHY IS YOUR BED EMPTY. IT'S THE MIDDLE OF THE MORNING FOR GODSAKES GET BACK HOME AND WE WILL DISCUSS YOUR PUNISHMENT LATER." His mum screamed, causing Smith to flinch away from the phone momentarily.

"Mum chill, I'm 17, I can take care of myself now. I'm not even far from home." Smith spoke calmly, trying to hide his worry from Ross. He turned his back to him and began to pace nervously around the car park again, trying not to show the hurt in his voice. Why was he being treated like a baby? He lived in the smallest town with the lowest crime rate, yet his mum was still punishing him for doing the things his father encouraged him to do before he left.

Ross waited nervously by the wall, his hands shoved into his coat pocket to stop his fingers from falling off. He couldn't hear what Smith's mum was saying, but whatever it was, he didn't look to happy about it.

"ALEX I DON'T WANT ANY ARGUING RIGHT NOW. GET HOME. NOW. OR I'M CALLING THE POLICE. I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE 17, YOU'RE STILL MY SON." Smith had to hang up before he burst into tears in the middle of the car park.

"I- I have to go. I'm sorry, Ross. Expect to not see me or hear from me for a few weeks, months who knows. This isn't a goodbye, it's a see you later." Before Ross even got a chance to say a proper goodbye, Smith had run through the door and was descending down the stairs.

"This isn't a goodbye, it's a see you later." What the hell was that supposed to mean? And what was going to happen to Smith? In desperation, Ross ran through the door and down the stairs after him, deciding that talking to Smith's mum might lighten his punishment.

However, by the time he'd reached the bottom, Smith was nowhere to be seen. The dark sky still loomed above him, and he was stood alone in the street.

Or so he thought.

Chapter Four: A Living Nightmare

Ross didn't realise it, but there was someone with him; someone who'd been watching him the whole time. Someone who was once his friend, a harmless and compassionate human being similar to Ross.

That someone was not like that anymore.

That someone was going to commit a horrific crime tonight, yet the village wouldn't find out for at least a week, they would never see it coming....

Ross shoved his hands in his pockets and hung his head low, ambling down the street towards his house, which wasn't too far away. He checked his phone to see if there was anything from Smith, but there was nothing there. Sighing, he continued on until he arrived at the corner of his house. Getting out was easy, getting back in...not so much.

He crept around the side of his house and managed to clamber over the fence into his garden. He felt like an intruder in his own house, was this illegal? Ross shrugged it off and opened his back door, being careful so that the wind wouldn't blow it shut behind him. He sprinted back to his room and stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed. Nobody would know of his nighttime adventures. Apart from the stranger who had followed him home...

Ross awoke early the next morning and showered and completed his normal morning routine. He walked into the kitchen barefoot and perched himself on the stool in the kitchen. Ross' father walked into the kitchen after him and poured Ross some cereal.

"Mornin, how did you sleep? Didn't go to bed too late I hope?" He stated, pushing Ross his bowl.

Ross somehow found himself unable to look him in the eye.

"Alright thanks, I went at the usual time anyway, college stuff weighing me down a bit, y'know." He blankly responded, hiding the bags under his eyes. He slowly began to eat his cereal, feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket. Smith?

Ross turned his phone over in his hands but the text was from a number he didn't recognise. He unlocked his phone and opened his texts

+44592475465: I know where you were last night and what you did with Smith. If I were you, I would follow my instructions very carefully, or something might just happen to one of your friends...

Ross' face froze and he turned pale. He gripped his phone tighter and his hands began to shake with fear.

"Ross? You okay? You don't look too well, maybe you should take the day off?" Ross' dad asked, glancing at Ross occasionally as he read his newspaper.

Ross felt his phone buzz again.

+44592475465: Go to college. If you stay home I'll kill your friend. Finish your breakfast and go. I'm watching you.

As if Ross wasn't worried enough about Smith and his friends, this just made everything 1000x worse. Ross looked outside the kitchen window, but he couldn't see anyone. Who was there?

+44592475465: Stop looking outside the window and get out the fucking house. You've got 1 minute.

Ross jumped and snapped his head back to his phone. He grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder and walked as calmly as possible out of the room as to not raise any suspicion to his parents.

"I'll see you later dad, I'm off to college now!" He called, not even giving his dad a chance to respond back before he shut the front door behind him. What is going on? Why was someone watching him?

Ross bolted to the bus stop and got on the earliest bus to his college, hopefully Smith would be there along with Trott, otherwise, some freaky shit was going down right now.

Meanwhile, Smith was still in bed after getting home earlier that morning and gaining a filthy look from his mother. He rolled over lazily and managed to squint at the alarm clock by his bed. Shit. He was late. Again. Why did this always happen to him!

He threw the covers back and hastily pulled on the clothes he had wore last night on the roof, not realising they were covered in mud. Grabbing a slice of toast from the side, he ran out of the door - toast in one hand, bag in the other - to the bus stop down the road.

The bus journey to college was long, so Smith spent the next 30 minutes staring out of the window, replaying everything that happened earlier this morning. He wished he could do it again, but his mother had grounded him for a month, he wasn't even allowed his phone.

When Ross and Smith had arrived at college, they met up in their usual spot on campus, just outside the science labs. Ross gave Smith a tight hug, relieved to see he had got home okay, and somehow made it out alive.

"How was your mum?" Ross asked, letting go of Smith and scuffing his feet on the grass.

"Lost my phone and been grounded for a month." Smith replied dully, mimicking Ross' moves.

"Sorry to hear that mate, if anything it's me that should be getting the punishment since I kept you out. You seen Trott?" He asked, suddenly realizing the absence of their friend.

"Nah. Has he called in sick?"

"Hold on I'll try calling him."

Just as Ross pulled his phone out his pocket, it buzzed and he immediately knew who it would be from.

+44592475465: Don't call anyone. Don't tell your lover boy. Otherwise your mate Trott is dead meat.

Ross replaced the phone back in his pocket.

"Trott pulled a sickie on us, says he's off all week."

"That fucking prick." Smith jested, offering his hand to Ross. Ross shook his head and mumbled "not here" to him and Smith nodded in understanding. Who was watching him?

Ross felt uneasy for the rest of the day, he couldn't concentrate in his classes and even his teachers had noticed something was up. Was Trott okay? Oh god, what if something had happened to him.

Ross caught the bus home later that afternoon, running straight into his room and slamming the door behind him. Luckily nobody was home, so nobody saw his tears. Nobody saw him have a mental breakdown thinking his best friend was locked up somewhere. Little did he know, it was far worse than he could ever imagine.

He considered phoning Trott, or sneaking out again to see him, but the texts he'd received earlier had clearly stated if he did any of those things, Trott would be killed.

He had never felt as miserable as this in his life before. He couldn't contact Smith because he'd lost his phone, he couldn't phone Trott, he felt alone.

+44592475465: ross hlp its trot. hrt. phone polce quik or ri

Ross glanced at his phone on the side and read the message. Trott? The message had been sent unfinished.

This was bad.

This was really really bad.

+44592475465: You think your friend will get away with that? You know better than this..

Who was behind all these messages? For the first time, Ross plucked up the courage to text this stanger back.

Ross: who the fuck is this. what have you done to trott.

The reply came almost instantaneously.

+44592475465: You want to see trott? Meet me at the canal tonight, 2am sharp. I will show you who I really am.

Ross bit his lip and tried to put his mind off the terrible thoughts swarming his head. He focussed on finishing his essays due for that week and put his headphones on.

After tea, Ross went straight to bed, but he couldn't sleep. His mind kept flickering to Smith, the Trott, then the phone and back to Smith. He didn't bother changing into his pyjamas, he would be leaving soon anyway. An uneasy feeling shot up his spine and Ross had to grip the edge of the bed to stop himself from throwing up. It would all be ok. He would find out who was sending these messages, and he'd call the police. "Trott's fine" he kept telling himself, although deep down he know he wasn't.

He crept out for the second time that week, tearing up the street towards the canal. What if he was too late? Ross pushed the thought out of his mind and slowed his pace as he opened the gate to the canal towpath. It was empty. Had he been set up?

He ran down the path, almost tripping up over his own feet. He stopped and glanced around anxiously, but nobody was there. His phone buzzed for the last time in his pocket

+44592475465: Look up.

Ross was afraid, how could this person see him but he couldn't see the one blackmailing him? He tore his eyes from his phone and looked up slowly, dropping his phone on the floor when he saw an image he'd never forget. Although it was dark, Ross could make out what definitely seemed like a person. No. Not a person. A body. Face down. Lifeless.

Chapter Five: Betrayal

Ross' heart began to beat erratically. His feet stood frozen to the floor and his jaw dropped open, but no sound came out. Silence pierced the air and all Ross could do was just stand there. After a moment, Ross' senses kicked in. He lunged forwards and grabbed the body by the feet and dragged it closer to the side. Single handedly, he managed to haul the body out of the water and he prepared himself for the worst. He slowly rolled the body over so it lay face up.

"Trott!" Ross breathed, before breaking down into tears and weeping over his limp corpse. He refused to let go of Trott, his whimpers becoming blood-curdling screams. He felt about for his phone on the floor and dialed for the police. He managed to give away his address and his name before the phone was kicked out of his hand by the stranger.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." A low voice spoke, a shadow emerging from the bushes and standing over him. "He deserved everything he got. And now you do too."

The fear that was once in Ross' body was replaced with anger, hatred, hurt.

"Fuck. You." Ross managed, still facing away from the stranger. He was unable to tear his gaze away from Trott's body, his arms protectively curling around his neck and shoulders to save him from further humiliation.

"Think you can one-up me huh? Think you'll get away with this?" The voice boomed, raising a gun to Ross' head. "Stand up and face me like a man."

Ross had no choice but to obey this stranger, he slowly rose from the floor, carefully laying Trott's body to rest. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Ross turned around, his fists clenched tightly. He gasped when he immediately recognised who the stranger was.

"Ridge!" Ross exclaimed, his breathing suddenly becoming heavier as a feeling of utter betrayal began to overpower him.

"Took you long enough!" Ridge sniggered, still pointing the gun at Ross' head, his finger glued to the trigger, ready to fire it at any moment.

"I thought you were our friend!" Ross cried, fighting back tears.

"Well you obviously thought wrong, and what's going on with you and Smith eh?" Ridge tormented, taking a step closer towards Ross. Ross automatically stepped back further towards the canal to get away from the gun.

"N-nothing, we were just---"

"You were just what? Kissing? There's no point lying to me, Ross Hornby. I know everything."

"Then If you know everything, why are you bothering with all of this!" Ross sobbed, wishing these last few days had never happened.

"Because I enjoy seeing you collapse, I will expose all of your weaknesses to the world. I can't wait to see the look on your face when I kill Smith." Ridge grinned, lowering the gun slightly.

Ross wanted to pummel Ridge to the ground, but seeming how Ridge had a gun, that would not be a wise idea.

"Don't you fucking dare hurt him." Ross breathed, closing the gap between them.

"You give away your weaknesses so easily, Ross." Ridge laughed, cocking the gun and bringing it up to Ross' face.

Ross froze. He was face to face with death. One wrong move now would cost his life.

But before Ridge was given the chance to press the trigger, a policeman had tapped him on the shoulder. Ridge turned round, and fearful for his life, he dropped the gun and fled. The policeman chased after him whilst another policeman came over to see if Ross was okay.

"It's alright son, everything's over now. Are you alright?" The policeman kindly asked, his eyes focussed on Ross and not the dead body behind him.

Ross was despondent, his mind was solely concentrated on Trott and Smith. Unexpectedly, he broke down in tears, turning his head towards Trott's body. He'd lost his best friend all because of his actions. Guilt began to build up in his gut. Everything was his fault.

By the time Ross arrived at the police station, his dad and Smith were waiting in the reception. Smith allowed Ross' dad to give him a hug first, patiently waiting his turn. Once his dad had finished speaking to him, he sat down and allowed Smith to speak to Ross in private.

"Are you okay? What's happened? Your dad called my mum and now I'm here." Smith spoke softly, gripping either side of Ross' arms.

Ross shook his head, and for the first time that morning he was able to speak clearly.

"Trott's dead."

Chapter Six: Mind Games

Smith couldn't speak, his hands loosened the grip on Ross' shoulders and he began to cry, unable to stop the tears. Ross did the only thing he could and hugged him tightly. He didn't let go until the policeman had to take him into a room for interrogation. He could hardly compose himself during the interview, the image of Trott's body was forever engraved in his mind.

The next few weeks were hard for everyone. College was silent, everyone mourning and grieving for poor Trott. But it hit Ross the hardest. Ross had never plucked up the courage to tell Smith about the messages. That was until one day after college.

Ross tentatively sat on the edge of Smith's bed and looked around his room for the first time whilst Smith picked out a movie. Although they'd been dating for about a month, times had been difficult and Smith and Ross had mostly kept to themselves. They understood each other needed some space to think about recent events and grieve.

It felt weird being alone with Smith. Not because he didn't like him anymore, God no. It's just the fact that Trott would usually be there with them, pissing about on the Playstation or taking the mick out of them. Smith finished putting the film on and lunged onto the bed, scooting his back up against the headboard and patting the bed beside him for Ross to join him.

Ross crawled up the bed and scooted up next to Smith, their legs barely brushing. It just didn't feel right, Trott was gone yet here they were, having fun. Ross repressed expressing his feelings, but Smith had already managed to see something was wrong.

"What's up mate? You look really upset." Smith asked, taking hold of Ross' hand and giving it a little squeeze.

"It's just... I don't know. Something just doesn't feel right." Ross replied, removing his hand from Smith's and turning his back to him. Smith began to get worried that Ross didn't want him anymore.

"Ross? Are you breaking up with me?" Smith questioned, quickly moving over the bed to sit next to Ross. He turned his head to face Smith, shook his head and smiled.

"Of course not. I just miss Trott. He's missing out."

Smith got up and stood in front of Ross and took his hands into his own. Ross lifted his head a little and gladly accepted this comforting gesture.

"There's something else too though. Ross added, biting his lip with nerves. He pressed on. "I never told anybody but... before Trott died, I was being sent these horrible messages from someone, and they all kept saying that if I didn't follow what they did then they'd kill Trott. It's my fault he's gone, isn't it?"

"It's not your fault at all Ross, you didn't want Trott to die so you felt like you had no other choice. Who sent you the messages?" Smith asked, slightly taken aback that Ross didn't ever speak to him about any blackmail before Trott's death.

Ross pulled out his phone from his pocket and showed Smith the chain of messages he'd been bombarded with over the last few weeks. Smith read them all and felt so bad for Ross. Whilst he was happy with Trott, Ross had been blackmailed and he didn't even know about it.

"It's ok, Ross. We'll just take them to the police for further evidence. You're not going to get in trouble for it. Nothing's your fault."

Meanwhile, the ghost of Trott stood next to them, unable to be seen. He didn't want his friends to mourn over him forever. He wanted Ross and Smith to get on with their normal lives and continue on as before. He watched closely as Ross stood up to match Smith's height and he seized an opportunity, he couldn't help himself.

He pushed Ross' back slightly, making him stumble forwards and into Smith's arms. Smith embraced him and gave him a long hug, pressing a kiss to Ross' hair. Ross buried his head into the crook of Smith's shoulder and couldn't help but smile. He wrapped his arms around Smith's waist and listened to Smith's soothing words.

"It's gonna be okay, I promise." Smith paused, unsure of what to say but he continued on anyway, "I'm always gonna be here for you, and I'm sure Trott would want us to carry on like normal, yeah?"

Ross lifted his head and glanced up at Smith and smiled properly for the first time in weeks, full of genuine happiness.

Smith brought his hands up to Ross' face and placed them on either side of his cheek, looking down at him with a great big smile.

"We're going to get through this together." Smith stated, bending down to press a small kiss to Ross' lips.

Trott shook his head and laughed, although of course, being dead and all, nobody could hear him. He missed being able to physically touch and joke with his friends, so playing tricks on them was the next best thing. He walked over to Smith's stack of college books on the chair and pushed them over.

Ross turned around quickly enough to see a cup of pencils be thrown off the desk for no apparent reason. Instinctively, Smith wrapped his arms around Ross to protect him, even though a couple of pencils hardly posed a threat to them.

"What the fuck?" Ross mumbled, wriggling from Smith's grip and walking over to the spilt art supplies on the floor. Smith nervously glanced around his room, but nobody was in there aside from Ross and himself.

"Probably just the wind or something mate. Don't worry about it." Smith joked, walking over to join Ross.

"Seriously. The wind. The window isn't even open Smith!" Ross laughed, stacking the books back onto the chair.

Trott was enjoying himself and continued to play tricks on them for the next few minutes, but as soon as he saw Smith change the subject and snog Ross, he was out of there. He didn't want to stick around to see the damage that followed. They were best of friends, but watching them fuck was not something he had ever planned to put on his bucket list.

Chapter Seven: Memories

TW: Slightly Smutty

Ross felt himself be shoved down onto Smith's bed, his back meeting the mattress with a very satisfying 'flumpf'. He went to get up but Smith's hand roughly shoved him back down again as Smith crawled up the bed and straddled Ross' waist.

"Oi Trott, if you're in here you might want to look away now otherwise you're gonna see something you'll regret." Smith joked, his face suddenly turning to panic as Ross shoved him off and straddled his waist instead as he pinned his wrists down to the bed.

Ross grinned down at Smith, before dipping his head down to kiss Smith. Smith can sense the lust, and so can Ross as they kiss with equal urgency. Ross smells of warmth and it's intoxicating and Smith can't help but grin against his lips.

"We don't.. have to do it.. if you don't want..." Smith hesitates, his breath taken away by how beautiful Ross looks in the pillars of light creeping in through the window between the blinds.

Ross silenced him and asserted his decision by pressing another kiss to his lips, as Smith suddenly grabbed a bunch of his t-shirt and pulled him down onto him. Lazy kisses turned into hunger and ardour as things began to heat up between them and they each became more desperate, their t-shirts suddenly feeling like too much clothing.

Smith grabbed at the back of Ross' t-shirt to bring it over his head and discard it on the floor whilst Ross began to undo Smith's belt, although that was easier said than done. Smith managed to pull Ross' t-shirt off when he sat up but Ross still struggled with the belt.

"Sorry about this..er.. technical difficulties" Ross grinned nervously, still fumbling about with the belt. Smith began to laugh and helped him, undoing the belt loop and his zipper. "Hey, let me do the rest!" Ross laughed, pulling Smith's jeans off his legs and throwing them carelessly behind him.

The two of them paused for a moment, taking in everything at that moment in time - just grinning at each other, looking at the rising and falling of each other's chests. Ross dipped his head down again to press light kisses to Smith's forehead and his chest, until he reached the waistband of Smith's boxers.

Smith could feel his heart beating through his chest, his breathing becoming more erratic as Ross palmed his cock through the material. Smith let out a moan and mumbled expletives under his breath whilst Ross began to stroke his length up and down. Smith curled his hands around the nape of Ross' neck and carded his fingers through Ross' hair, tugging slightly when he hitched his breath when Ross took him into his mouth.

Bobbing his head, Ross continued to stroke Smith's length as Smith moaned loudly with pleasure, his hands bunching up the sheets beneath him. It didn't take long for orgasm to overpower him and a loud moan rang throughout the room. Ross swallowed the warm liquid and offered Smith a tissue from his bedside cabinet.

"Did we just..." Ross began, giggling sheepishly at Smith, who was looking up through his lashes at him.

"I believe we did, we should do it again sometime." Smith laughed, out of breath still, his heart was racing ten times to the dozen, although he wasn't sure if that was because of the physical exertion or the way Ross looked at him so innocently.

After they had both finished cleaning up and put their clothes back on, they both sank into Smith's mattress and watched the film they weresupposed to watch the first time round before suddenly deciding to be romantically spontaneous.

"I want to do something special for Trott, I know we had the funeral already but I just want to do something between the two of us." Ross spoke up after the movie had finished, sitting on the end of Smith's bed as the mattress groaned under his weight.

"Sure, why don't we go down to the river where we all used to hang out and put a message in a bottle or something?" Smith suggested, giving Ross' hand a squeeze. "We can go now if you want?"

Ross nodded and watched Smith grab some pens, paper and a couple of bottles and put them in his rucksack. The pair of them stood up and left the house together, hand in hand.

Fortunately, the weather had been kind that week and there had been no rain, so they sat down on the grass beside each other and wrote their messages to their beloved friend. The ghost of Trott sat the other side of the bank, and if ghosts could cry, he would be right now. The kindness of his friend reached to no ends, he missed them so much. He missed living.

Ross finished up his letter and rolled it up so it was small enough to fit in the bottle. Screwing the cap on tightly, he waited for Smith to finish his and do the same. They stood up and cast their bottles off into the river, delicate fingers entwined, refusing to take their eyes off the bottles until they disappeared around the meander. Silent tears fell down Ross' cheeks and Smith pulled him into a hug until Ross said he was ready to go.

Since the day they sent the messages, they visited once a week to talk about Trott and the memories they shared until eventually the pain of grief and longing turned into happy memories and healing and their nightmares eventually turned into dreams once more.

Credit to Zozaaa on Ao3