TW: Angst 

Chapter One: Taking Sides

As Ross pushed open the front door, his thoughts turned to the comfort found in a glass of cool whiskey and the familiarity of slumping against the soft cushioned sofa, excited to discard the worries of his hard day at work. But as he stepped through the doorway, closing the wooden door behind him, he knew the blissful relaxation he had planned would have to wait. Echoing through the empty hallway, Ross could hear the loud sobs of someone crying and sighed to himself - What had happened this time? It wasn't unusual to find his two housemates in an argument of some sort, normally over something small and to him, insignificant but very rarely, had he been subjected to the emotional distress of the problems in their relationship and never before, had he been left to pick up the pieces. He kicked his shoes to the floor and slid his coat from his shoulders, hanging it on one of the pegs against the wall before turning and heading in the direction of the sobs. He walked quietly, trying not to alert the other man of his presence. As he reached the doorway, he peered around and his heart nearly broke at the sight of his best friend.

With his back against the wall, Chris had his knees drawn up close to his chest, his hands clutching desperately around them. His head was dropped but Ross could still see the shiny trails of shed tears falling down his cheeks and the red, puffy skin surrounding his bloodshot eyes. He saw how Chris had his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down on the sensitive skin in an attempt to halt the tears. But it was unsuccessful as huge sobs escaped from his mouth. Although he was a petite man, sitting in that position, Chris had never looked smaller or sadder and Ross wanted nothing more than for Chris to return to his usual charming self. He was obviously hurting and Ross knew the source of this pain was almost certainly their redheaded friend. Pulling his phone from his pocket, Ross sent a text, his fingers moving expertly as he typed the words to Alex Smith: 'What the fuck did you do this time?'.

Without waiting for a response, Ross stepped in the room and called out softly, "Trott mate?", not wanting to startle his friend. Chris' head snapped upwards, blinking rapidly through his tear filled eyes as he peered at Ross,

"W-What are y-you doing here?" Chris mumbled, his words barely audible through his tears.

Ross took a couple of steps forward until he was standing next to his friend before sitting on the floor, his back pressed against the wall. Despite wearing a long-sleeved shirt, Ross could feel the cold seep onto his skin. But it didn't matter, he only cared about the tearful man beside him.

"It's almost 8 Trott, is Smith here?" Ross asked curiously, instantly regretting his question as Chris' sobs grew louder at the sound of Alex's name, confirming Ross' suspicions. He wrapped his arms sympathetically around Chris' small frame, one hand sliding through his messy hair as Chris buried his head against Ross' shoulder. They stayed like that for a while, the only noise in the quiet room was the occasional noise that escaped from between Chris' lips . Ross rested one hand on the small of Chris' back, rubbing small circles against his skin while the other twisted strands of Chris' hair, leaving it standing upright in what he hoped was a somewhat soothing motion. As Chris' sobs began to subside, Ross spoke again, "What happened Chris?".

Chris took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice before he answered, "He slept with someone else." His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper as if he didn't want to admit out loud Alex's infidelity.

"The fucker..." Ross spat, feeling anger bubbling inside of him. He knew Alex was capable of doing some pretty awful things but never once did Ross think he would be able to hurt Chris in such a way. It was hard to take sides but Ross began to imagine the different ways in which he could extract revenge on the redhead for inflicting this level of pain on the small man next to him, each one more wild and extreme than the other. Pulling him from his thoughts, Ross felt Chris' nod his head,

"I can't believe he did it Ross... I loved him y'know..."

Ross smiled sympathetically, his grip around Chris' body tightening as he murmured, "Oh Chris, I'm sorry mate ..." He held his friend close to him, wanting nothing more than to just stop the pain he was feeling. Ross pulled his phone from his pocket against , finding no reply from Alex and typed a new message to him: 'How could you do such a thing? He fucking loved you.' This time, his phone pinged as it lit up with a notification, signalling a response from the redhead, 'He loved me? I really fucked up Ross, what do I do?'

Ross sighed, so much for a peaceful evening... He closed his eyes and tilted his head back in thought, what should he do? Of course Alex didn't know how Chris felt, they were too fucking stubborn to express their emotions. But that wasn't his problem. Should he just comfort Chris and make sure the brunette was alright or should he try and help his other friend? Knowing that Chris wasn't in a fit state emotionally or physically to talk to Alex, Ross shoved his phone into the depths of his pocket and turned his attention back to Chris. He watched as the brunette lifted his hand, trying to stifle a yawn behind the skin of his palm before deciding that he should take Chris upstairs. Although the tears had stopped, Chris had a permanent expression of sadness fixed upon his face that was now mixed with exhaustion, "Come on Chris." Ross said as he stood up, untangling himself from the mess of limbs that belonged to Chris, "Let's get you to bed." He extended his arms, offering them to Chris who took hold of his hands and helped himself to stand,

"Don't wanna go to bed." Chris mumbled, sticking his bottom lip out in a miserable that mirrored the expression of a small child, "HE used to sleep there."

Ross mentally cursed himself for suggesting such a thing. Although they both had separate bedrooms, it had become a regular occurrence for his two best friends to spend the night wrapped in the other's embrace, tucked up beneath Chris' duvet. Ross sighed again before suggesting, "Why don't you spend the night in my bed? I don't mind sharing." To his relief, Chris nodded and Ross helped the smaller man up the stairs and in the direction of his bedroom. Once through the door, Ross turned around to let Chris change while he did the same, throwing his smart trousers and shirt to the floor, replacing them instead with an old t-shirt and flannel pyjama trousers that were frayed at the edges and covered with small holes, a sign of love and comfort from their many nights worn. Once donned in his appropriate night wear, Ross slid beneath the covers and motioned for Chris to do the same. As Chris joined him, Ross shifted in his position so that his head lay further down the pillow, his legs almost reaching the end of the bed. He turned to Chris and said softly, "Try and get some rest Chris, you can decide what to do in the morning, you'll feel better after some sleep."

Chris nodded and turned away from Ross, facing the wall. He closed his eyes and tried to lull his body into unconsciousness. Before Ross could fall asleep, he heard his friend's voice, smaller and more pathetic than ever as he whispered, "How am I ever meant to feel better? He fucking broke my heart..."

Ross sighed miserably, this was going to be a difficult problem to fix, he wasn't sure if he even could... His friend's relationship might be broken beyond repair this time. He rolled over and tried to close his eyes, desperately seeking the sleep that would give him a brief moment of peace from this problem.

Chapter Two: Over For Good

When Chris awoke the next morning, he was granted a brief moment of serenity. He opened his eyes and peered around the blue walls and the matching bed linen, discovering that this was not his own bed. In this unfamiliar setting, it took Chris a moment to realise that he was currently lying in the bed of his best friend, Ross who was also currently occupying the bed. It was at this moment that Chris' happiness disappeared. He was met with the sudden remembrance of everything that had happened the previous evening. It crashed over him like a wave on a stormy night. Overwhelmed by sadness, Chris pressed his palms against his eye sockets, desperately trying to stop the tears from falling. He knew his eyes were already red and swollen and didn't want to make them worse. Instead, he swung his legs out of bed and forced his body upright. Bracing himself, he placed his feet against the wooden floor and shivered when his skin met the cold material. He rose, picking up a discarded hoodie, not caring if it was his own or Ross', and slid it over his torso before heading out the bedroom and in the direction of the kitchen. He was in desperate need of coffee.

With a mug of steaming coffee in hand, Chris swung himself up to sit on the counter where he lifted the drink to his mouth, enjoying the slightly bitter taste that coated his tongue. As he drank the remaining liquid, he began to think about what to do. In the seven months he'd been in a relationship with Alex, he never once thought he'd be in this position. As much as he didn't want things to end, could he trust Alex again? What he be able to look at the redhead again without imagining his arms around another? Would be able to move past it all?

As he pondered the answers to his many questions, he was pulled back to reality by the sound of Ross entering the room, his feet padding against the ceramic tiles,

"How you feeling Trott, mate?" He asked upon seeing Chris, his voice laced with concern and worry.

Chris shook his head, "Like shit. Couldn't sleep last night." Although he had gone to bed feeling exhausted, he had spent most of night lying on his back, awake and deep in thought.

"You look like shit." Ross teased, noticing the pale skin and purple shadows that rested under Chris' bloodshot eyes.

Chris lifted the corners of his mouth in a half-hearted attempt at a smile, "Cheers mate."

There was a moment of silence before Ross spoke again, clearly uncomfortable as he asked, "Have you decided what's going to happened with you and Alex?"

Chris closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "I really don't know Ross. I just - I keep changing my mind. One minute I think I can just forgive but then I..." He trailed off as his eyes once again filled with tears. Using the sleeve of his hoodie, he wiped roughly at his eyes before continuing, "I keep wondering who it was, what they had that I don't and as much as I want to, I don't know if I can move past this."

Ross smiled sadly, "You don't ever have to forgive him mate." He took a step towards Chris, reaching out and resting his hand gently against Chris' shoulder, "What he did was inexcusable and you have every right to be angry at him."

"I know. It's just I loved him, still do..."

"It's hard Trott, maybe you need to talk to him." Ross suggested.

Chris thought for a moment, unsure whether it would be the best thing or the worst thing. Deciding that he wanted to know what Alex had to say, slowly he nodded in response.

"Good, I'll text him, you jump in the shower."

Swinging his legs against the counter, Chris pushed himself into a standing position. With a nod and a thankful grin at his friend, Chris headed towards the shared bathroom. He leant into the shower, turning the water to the most powerful setting, waiting for a moment as the water began to warm. He looked around the bathroom and his eyes lingered on a small bottle of aftershave lying among the assorted bottles and jars littering the surfaces. This bottle was filled with a liquid that for a long time had clung to his partner, forcing him to inhale it every day and every night. It was a mixture of vanilla, leather and memories. At the sight of this bottle, Chris felt his eyes once again fill with tears that threatened to fall onto his cheeks. He cast the sudden influx of memories aside. Chris lifted his hoodie over his head, bringing the t-shirt he was wearing with it and slid his boxers down his legs. Now without clothes, Chris stepped into the shower.

The water was hot. It pounded against Chris' skin, leaving it feeling raw and sore. But Chris didn't care, the motion was soothing to the brunette. He was able to stand beneath the water and cast his worries aside.

Once clean, Chris stepped out of the shower and wrapped a white, fluffy towel around his waist. He walked to his bedroom, dripping water on the carpets as he moved. Inside his bedroom, there were various pictures lining his walls. Although they were taken in different places, some even in different countries, they all had one thing in common: Chris and Alex, smiling and happy. As Chris headed into the room, he avoided looking at the pictures, scared to be reminded of the best times of his life. He quickly searched through the piles of discarded clothing lying on his floor, his fingers searching for a specific material. Hidden beneath various shirts and hoodies, Chris found his favourite pair of black skinny jeans and stepped into them. He then searched for his favourite t-shirt, black but with a green logo covering the middle. It was worn and fraying at the edges but it was too comfortable for Chris to throw away. He then moved to his hair, running his fingers through the brown mess, trying to flatten some of the wild strands. He still looked a mess but somewhat more presentable than before. With a final look in the mirror, Chris turned and headed in the direction of Ross.

Chris climbed down the stairs and headed through the doorway to find his friend. But rather than finding Ross, he saw the redhead. Alex. Chris stopped in his tracks. He was frozen in place, halfway into the living room, unable to go any further. Looking at the redhead, Chris could see the purple shadows under bloodshot eyes, the pale skin and the miserable frown that replaced his usual teasing smirk. It was the clear sign of upset and sadness.

"Hey Chris...." Alex murmured, his voice was hoarse and croaky, so different from the day before when he had been confessing his crimes.

"Alex." Chris answered coldly, unable to look directly at Alex. There an awkward silence that filled the room, neither man wanting to be the one to start the conversation. But after a while, it was Chris that spoke first, "W-Why did you do it Alex?" He asked hesitantly, unsure if he actually wanted to know the answer.

Alex dropped his head, clutching it in his hands as he sighed miserably, "I - I really don't know Chris. It was stupid, a drunken mistake and I'm so sorry Trottie, I didn't mean to hurt you."

Chris pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down against the sensitive skin until he was met with the satisfying metalic taste of blood spilling over his tongue, desperately trying to stop the tears that threatened to spill over his long eyelashes, "W-Who was it?"

Alex sighed again, "You really don't want to know Chris, it'll only make things worse..." He paused for a moment, "Can I ever make it up to you?"

"People don't change Smith. How do I know you'd never do it again?"

"You just have to trust me Trottie. I'll marry you if it helps." Alex suggested, a smile on his face.

Chris frowned, "I don't want to marry you Smith. Not like this, if you'd asked me just a few weeks ago, I'd have jumped at the chance. But now, I can't bare to be in the same room as you. I don't think I can ever forgive you Smith or ever trust you again..." As much as it hurt Chris, he knew he had to speak the truth. The last evening had been the worst in his life, he had never experienced so much emotional pain in such a short period of time. And despite the difficulty in letting go, Chris knew he couldn't have a repeat performance. It was Alex's inability to take this seriously, the fact that he tried to solve their problems with a proposal that made Chris realise this was right thing to do.

Alex opened his mouth, ready to speak but no words came out. Chris watched as he stood from the sofa, turned to Chris and whispered sadly, "I'm so sorry Chris, I never meant to hurt you like this...".

Now alone in the room, Chris sank to the floor. He drew his knees close to his body, mirroring his position the previous evening. This time however, he wasn't met with an overwhelming sadness but rather a sense of relief. Although it was difficult to end such a happy time in his life, at least this way he knew he wouldn't have to experience the pain and heartbreak of a relationship. He smiled sadly at the door, and whispered "Goodbye Alex..." as he heard the front door shutting behind the redhead. It was over. Over for Good.

Credit to Daisyith on Ao3