I would start a riot

So Much Easier ~ May 2015

The show passed in a strange blur. Ant could remember, with a distinct and unwanted clarity, every second of the previous evening. It was one of those memories that would leave a jagged scar through his brain, one that would rear its head whenever he thought about this series of Britain's Got Talent. But the following show already seemed to be fading as they returned to their dressing room.

Maybe it had something to do with Dec's demeanour. He could certainly act the part for the cameras, as energetic as ever and almost trying harder than normal to portray that particular image. But in every advert break, Ant had to watch him stealing glances at the first few rows of audience seating, eyes subconsciously seeking out the enhanced security who lined the stage surreptitiously. He wondered if the studio audience was aware of these changes to the show, even if they would be completely unnoticeable to viewers at home.

Beyond the nervous eyeing of the closest members of the public, there was something distracted about Dec in general. It wasn't quite shiftiness but Ant could tell, as he always could, that there was something the older man needed to say. And when he wasn't concentrating on the show they had to present, a great deal of his focus was dedicated to guessing what it could possibly be.

The judges could clearly sense the nervous energy as well and particularly at the end of the links they filmed beside the table, Ant felt four sets of eyes watching the pair of them closely. He noticed Dec trying to keep himself detached from the added attention, always concentrated on Ant in the moments when he wasn't distracted by his own fear.

When it was all over, Dec trailed him back to the dressing room like a shadow, never once pulling up alongside him, knocking their elbows together, raising an eyebrow as he often did at the end of a show. It was unusual for there to be a silence between them without some form of non-verbal communication.

Ant only hugged him behind closed doors, reluctantly playing along with the narrative that everything was fine in front of other people. He knew Dec and Stephen were failing miserably at portraying that when they were together – not that he could blame them, although that was beside the point – but it was easier to follow their lead than to tentatively point out that backstage was a safe space for them. They could be genuine there if they chose to and he wished they would choose to be.

They quickly slipped into their usual routine which led to Ant habitually making his way to the relevant hashtag on Twitter, already spotting a couple of stomach-churning tweets before his brain caught up to his actions and suggested that it was potentially a bad idea that evening. It was unfair to write everything off as disappointingly homophobic though and he focused on the positives, clicking through some other comments as Dec was distracted by the TV.

"Nothing gets past this lot," he said disbelievingly about one tweet, dragging Dec's attention from the screen in front of him. There was no keeping it on in the background that evening; he'd watch every second.

"Hmm?" he asked absently, leaning over to see the phone in Ant's hand. He had the tweet open with two pictures of them side by side, mid-sentence. One was from that night and the other from yesterday with the key differences being the rainbow pin badges and that the microphones in the latter weren't labelled with their names on the bottom. "And they're sharing their detective work with all of Twitter because...?"

Ant bit back a sigh at the slight hint of defence in Dec's tone but let the other man off. "Said it was nice to see everyone making sure it didn't happen to Stevie again tonight, or you for a matter of fact."

Dec hummed in reply again, his attention back on the screen but focus interrupted by a sniff. Ant smiled fondly and squeezed his shoulder before going back to his phone. It really wasn't the best idea, given that the stunt from yesterday's show seemed to have got the homophobes crawling out of the woodwork and, as much as the positive messages worked to drown them out, he couldn't help but focus on any other tweets that had anything horrible to say, subconsciously keeping the screen tilted away from Dec in case he started reading over his shoulder.