It was early afternoon before either boy stirred, heavy eyelids and throbbing headaches alike. It was the obnoxious whirring of the hoover out in the hall that had initially drawn Dec from the comfort of his old, single bed; rickety as it may be, the toon army bedsheets were fresh on and currently in a discarded heap around Ant's bare legs. The two had decided to call it a night shortly after their drunken, four am fumble. Dec had asked Ant to stay the night with him, an innocent request that had resulted in the two men stripping down to their boxers and crawling into Dec's single bed, a mass of tangled limbs and tired eyes.
Dec brought his hands up to rub at his face, inarguably tired and in desperate need of a few more hours sleep. A yawn escaped him as he rummaged his wardrobe for an old pair of pyjama bottoms or joggers to pull on before slipping quietly from his bedroom and down the stairs in a last ditch effort not to wake his sleeping companion. "You woke us up with that racket!" Dec moaned, passing his mother in the hallway, hoover in hand and a smile on her face.
"The world doesn't stop just 'cause you're in bed, pet." Anne chimed. "No Ant?" she asked. Dec grunted an incoherent and entirely non-committal reply before venturing through into the kitchen and flipping the switch on the kettle. Declan Donnelly had never been a morning person, although granted; it was currently 12:42pm on a Monday afternoon but ever since he could remember he had never held the ability to function properly before a decent cuppa and a slice of toast. The dusty thudding in Dec's head was all but subtle and he vowed, for what must have been the millionth time that he was never drinking again. "Are ye wantin' some toast to go with that?" Anne smiled. Anne could read her youngest son like a book, she knew her Declan inside out and upside down; he was her baby after all and if there was one thing her baby had always liked on a morning it was a cuppa tea with two sugars and a slice of toast.
Dec yawned again, giving his mother a sleepy smile he nodded. "Thanks mam."
Ant's first glimpses of that early Monday afternoon were laced with the the dull ache of a hangover. Closing his eyes almost as quickly as he had opened them, Ant resolved to never lift his eyelids again; the promise of further pain more than apparent should he ever attempt it. Rolling onto his back Ant sighed, his thoughts creeping back to the night before; Dec had been a mess, an absolute train wreck and Ant couldn't help but feel like the guilty party. How had he been so blissfully unaware all these years? How had he missed the signs? It had pained Ant to see his best friend in such a state, so broken and helpless. He remembered the way Dec was shaking when he wrapped his arms around the smaller man, pulling him close and threading his fingers through his hair. Ant had never seen him like that and it took everything he had not to break down beside him.
The bedroom door was shoved open with an un-oiled groan as Dec re entered, two mugs of tea and a slice of toast hanging from his mouth. Ant couldn't help but grin; Dec's bed hair and pyjama bottoms were nothing new to the other man but there was something about this morning, something about the way Dec looked that made Ant forget the dull, aching thud at the back of his skull for a second. "Mornin'" Ant croaked, pushing himself up into a sitting position. Dec set the mugs down on the bedside table and took a bite out of his toast.
"Mornin', how ye feelin, like?" Dec asked through a mouthful of toast.
"Rough." Ant yawned. "What about you after last night?"
Dec shrugged in response. Awkward, vulnerable, conflicted; Dec felt a number of things, none of which he was sure he wanted to offload onto the man sitting opposite him. "D'ye regret it, like? Any of it?" Dec mumbled, his eyes glued to the frayed edges of his old, blue bedroom carpet; desperate to avoid Ant's gaze.
"Don't be daft, man. Why would I regret it? I may have been drunk, Declan but I'm not an idiot." It was clear that what Dec feared was the rejection. The cold, harsh words that would leave the shorter of the duo alone and helpless; broken with nobody there to fix him. Ant knew this, he knew Dec, his Dec and Ant had no intention of ever being without him.
Ant watched as Dec visibly relaxed. His face softened and Dec even managed to tear his eyes away from his fraying carpet to meet his friend's gaze. Both boys smiled at one another, hangovers and sleep deprivation long forgotten as they lost themselves in one another. Leaning forward Dec was the first to break the pent up tension with a kiss. It was short and soft, almost shy and some what uncertain. Ant brushed his knuckles along Dec's jaw, his hand coming to cup the other man's face as he drew him back in. Their mouths met again in a kiss that was everything they had wanted and needed from one another all along. Ant could taste the butter from Dec's toast on his friend's lips as their mouths worked against one another, slightly open and panting.
It wasn't long before both men were pawing at each other, shirts lay discarded by the bed along with Dec's pyjama bottoms. Skin on skin, writhing against one another; eyes clouded with lust and desperation. Dec's mind was racing, he could barely believe that he was here, in his old room, on his old bed with best friend; attached at the mouth as they all but dry humped one another into the mattress. They were on fire, heated and each aching for the other. Dec had wanted this for far longer than he could remember and as the very tips of Ant's fingers slid beneath the waist band of Dec's boxer shorts, Dec couldn't help but moan into the kiss; a low, rough animalistic growl.
"I've never heard you make that noise before." Ant smirked, now toying with with the waistband of Dec's underwear.
"Don't go teasin' us, like." the other man panted, desperate, horny and now painfully hard. Dec's erection was visibly straining against the thin material of his boxers and although he knew it was wrong, Ant felt a sense of pride at being able to have his partner all but begging for his touch.
"What d'ya want me to do, Declan?" Ant whispered, tongue warm and wet against Dec's earlobe. Before Dec was able to form any kind of coherent response he was cut off by the slamming of the front door and his mother's calls from the bottom of the stairs.
"Lads, Moyra's here. Are ye comin' down?" Anne called. Dec threw his head back in frustration and groaned. This wasn't happening, how could it be? How was it, Declan wondered, that his mother, his own mother was playing captain cock block?
"We'll finish this later, aye?" Ant suggested, stealing a quick kiss and withdrawing his hand from his boyfriend's boxers, grabbing his clothes from the floor and dressing himself as quickly as he could.
"Doesn't look as though we've got much choice, does it? Cannat get any privacy around here, like." Dec huffed, adjusting himself and pulling on a fresh pair of jeans. "and listen..." Dec started, taking hold of Ant's hand. "Let's keep this quiet for now, aye? Until after the weddin', like."
"Whatever you want, pet." Ant smiled, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on Dec's forehead before both men dropped their hands and ventured downstairs, certain of one thing only; the fresh hell that awaited them was that of a day of wedding talk and stolen kisses.