TW: Cheating, Drinking, Swearing, Angst

Song: Little Heart by Amarante

Smith silently watched as the man gathered his stuff and left. He supposed he should feel jealousy or anger aimed towards him, but instead he just felt numb. The guy was nearly as tall as Smith, also with blue eyes, but darker hair. Guess Trott has a type.

"You know you were the best of me." He finally broke the silence, turning towards Trott. His tone was hurt but not accusing. He looked at Trott, truly looked at him. His face was flushed and he had a new light in his eyes. He had seemed more alive these past several weeks than he had in the past year with him, and now he knew who to thank for that. He had suspected that something like this had been going on for awhile now. As long as he hadn't seen anything he could play dumb, but now he had and the cat was out of the bag.

"No I couldn't be, because you never let me in! You just kept pushing me away!" Trott fumed, frustration boiling over at Smiths seemingly emotionless response. It seemed as if he wanted an argument, a way to finally get a rise out of him.

But Smith just rubbed at his eyes tiredly before sighing "I know, you're right."

"Why don't you seem surprised by any of this?" Trott asked with realization in his voice "How long have you known?! How long have you know and just let it happen?"

Smith looked away from Trott, he couldn't bare the naked horror on his face. He debated ignoring the question, but there was no point in avoiding it now that he knew. He walked over to the framed photo on the wall, the two of them together smiling, taken nearly a month ago at their three-year anniversary. "When you took your eyes off of me."

Now Trott looked away in guilt. "I couldn't look you in the eye and say I love you, knowing what I was doing behind your back." Trott admitted, before turning watery eyes back towards him. "We're fucked, aren't we?

"I know...you're right." Smith managed to force out as a feeling of weight on his chest spread, making it hard to breathe. He had guessed, but it was an entirely different thing to know for certain. Part of him was freaking out, but mostly he was just numb.

"Stop saying that!" Trott shouted. "Smith you should be furious! Not just, you know, accepting it!" He trailed off, getting quieter as his frustration was spent. "... I'm so so so sorry Smith. I know that there's never a good reason to do what I did, but your loves not big enough."

"Because my loves not big enough?" he didn't know whether to laugh at that since it almost sounded like a dick joke, or to just leave and be done with it all.

"I meant, its like you barely even have a heart anymore, like you don't care about me anymore! A loveless relationship could only last so long without help Smith."

At that Smith just turned and left before he said something he might regret, something like 'that doesn't mean you need to go around fucking other guys you cheating bastard'.

~~

Friday night saw Smith laying on his bed in his apartment with a newly emptied fifth of whiskey and a bad idea. He was laying in a bed that still smelt of Trott, even days later. It was bringing up memories that his fuzzy mind wasn't up to dealing with. The numbness from before had long worn off, and now he was filled with grief and anger. The words 'loves not big enough' seemed to be running through his mind on repeat. He debated calling Trott, his fingers hitting the button to facetime before he had finished deciding whether he actually should.

He was further surprised when Trott actually picked up. The dark screen lit up reveal Trott as he clicked on a bedside lamp. "What the hell Smith, its after midnight?"

"Its cold where you once laid." He couldn't stop the words from coming out, he'd been avoiding the other half of his bed all week. Part of him still couldn't believe Trott was actually gone. The dim ceiling light illuminated his room enough that he could coordinate himself enough to grab a pillow from the other side of the bed, bringing over the fading smell of Trott. "Your sent, it burns a hole in me."

He heard Trott sigh, but the look on his face wasn't annoyed, it was something he wasn't able to place when his head was swimming like this.

"Smith, are you drunk?"

"I see your face." He was close to figuring out what that expression, it was just barely out of his reach.

Trott looked ready to say something, when he quickly glanced over his shoulder. "I'm sorry I've got to go, I um, I have someone over, call me tomorrow if you remember."

"My home, that's now his?" Smith asked, completely ignoring the rest of what Trott said. But the line was already dead. Chucking his phone to the other side of the bed he tried to fall asleep, but Trotts other words kept coming back to haunt him. Eyes damp he mumbled them to himself. "Because my loves not big enough?"

Credit to lonesomehail on Ao3