Straight

XIX

They've done this a few times now, so it really shouldn't be, but for some reason Eddy feels more awkward tonight, when it's all over. He can feel the physical relaxation spreading through him, but something nags in his brain. He watches as Brett cleans up and sits back up. His eyes are calm. Happy. 
Brett rewinds the film until the point they stopped watching and they sit in silence again, as Eddy tries to focus on the film instead of the nagging in his head. 

As soon as the credits play he gets up. 
"Mind if I take a shower?"
"No, 'course. Go ahead."
"Thanks."
He walks to the shower almost gingerly and strips quickly. Steps under the water and turns it up hot. Oh, if only he could wash out his head as well, strip all the nagging out of it. 
He washes himself mechanically and tries not to think. 
It doesn't work, of course, and by the time he turns off the tap and dries himself off he's almost hyperventilating. He puts the towel around his waist and stares at himself in the mirror. 
Jesus. Has he looked more haggard than this before? 
The thoughts are pressing up at him, driving up like vomit, and for a second he thinks he might actually be sick. He grabs both side of the sink until his knuckles are white. Then he nods. 

It's time. He has to. He has to be honest, even if he can only be honest with himself. 
"Fuck." he whispers. "Fuck."
He nods again and stares at the pale figure in the mirror, who looks vaguely like him but not really. 
"I'm in love with him." he whispers as the first tear falls. 
He staggers back and sits down on the toilet, buries his face in his hands as he cries silently. 
Yeah. He knows it now. The unequivocal truth. 
He's in love with him, in love like he's never been before. With his best friend. Who clearly doesn't love him back, not the same way anyway. 
He sobs quietly and holds himself together. 
Brett can never know. Never. It would ruin everything. Surely, if Brett felt the same, he would have told him? So he must never breathe a word of it. He just needs to go out with Jill, and somehow find those feelings he had for her just a couple of days ago. 
He will just have to fake it, until he makes it for real. 

After a few minutes he gets up. He has to. Brett will be wondering where he is. Looks at himself again. Still pale, still haggard, but now with red eyes to add to the mix. He splashes some water in his face and walks quickly back to Brett's room. 
"You okay?" Brett asks as Eddy comes in and starts putting on his bedclothes. 
"Yeah, fine. I'm just really tired. Mind if we turn in? Not too early for you?"
"No, of course not. I'll just brush my teeth, okay?"
Eddy's not brushed his teeth. He can't make himself, right now. He just nods and slides under the covers. 
Brett joins him after a few minutes and doesn't say a word. But he lies close, though. And to be honest, right now Eddy doesn't have the strength to fight it. Is it right, to do this now? 
Surely, Brett wants it, if it's his initiative? 
He turns on his left side and puts his arms around his best friend in the whole world. 
"Good night." he whispers. 
"Good night, Eddy."

It takes Brett seconds to fall asleep, as usual. But Eddy lays awake for ages, with the race cart track in his brain.