Straight

V

The day drags, and drags, and Brett finds it impossible to focus on anything. He can't even practise his Tchaik like a normal person, he keeps fucking up. The lessons take an eternity, and then, to add insult to injury, Eddy's mum calls him and demands he comes home to eat. He can hear her voice through the line as Eddy listens to her, he can see Eddy's face start to look guilty. It makes him feel guilty too, for no good reason. 
At least Eddy tells him he'll be over as soon as he can. 
Surely, if he didn't want to come, he'd take the out he's been given? 

He can't find peace anywhere, as he walks home alone, as he eats a couple of bread rolls and cheese - how very European of him - , as he tries in vain to have any useful practice. The nerves are firmly stuck in his belly and he keeps looking at the clock, as if looking at it makes it go any faster. 
When the bell rings at last he jumps in shock and his heart is in his throat. He runs to the door and jerks it open. 

Eddy. 
Oh, he can see straight away from the tension in his face that he's not the only one who's nervous, but he looks gorgeous all the same. His almond eyes are shiny and his lips look plump and pink. 
He beckons him in awkwardly and watches as he plops down on the couch. Blinks as he tries not to think of what they did there last night. 
"Oh, did you want a drink?" he asks him, after about three moments too long.
"Nah, thanks. I just ate."
"Wanna play some games first?"
"Sure."

He's sat down next to him a million times, but tonight it's harder somehow, because he's acutely aware of how close Eddy is, and he just can't relax into doing what they always do. Video games. Eating nuts from the white bowl. Laughing. The memories of the night before keep playing in his head. 
Eddy says yes straight away when he suggests a film, and settles in to watch. Brett puts it on, but he hardly notices what's happening on the screen, because he's just too aware of the boy next to him, who he loves so much. And to add insult to injury... he can't seem to stop being hard, no matter how fucking stupid that is. He just can't make it go down, because even though he tries his hardest not to, he remembers last night, remembers Eddy's hand on him. Remembers Eddy's face, contorted so sweetly, as he made him come. 
He's an idiot, he's such an idiot. 

He's just glancing at him again, at his ears, that hear music so well, at the dimples on his cheek, his beautiful brown eyes, when Eddy suddenly turns to him and catches him looking. Brett looks down at his legs straight away, but not before he sees Eddy, looking down, right at what he's been trying to hide. 
Eddy clears his throat.
"You good?"
Brett nodds, but doesn't look up. Oh fuck, what is he supposed to say to this?
"Bro, we good?" Eddy says again.
That makes him look up.
"Yeah."
Eddy swallows visibly.
"Do... do you regret last night?"
What? 
The shock breaks through the shell and the words come of their own accord.
"No! No, I don't. Do... do you?"
Eddy shakes his head.
"Of course not. I'm confused though."
Brett nodds very slowly. He's confused? Confused... is better than sorry, right?
"Yeah, me too." he admits. 

He can't do much but stare at him, right now. There's no words, to describe what he's feeling, to ask what Eddy is feeling. And his straining dick is obvious to Eddy, he knows. He gestures down helplessly. 
"Yeah." he says. 
Eddy is quiet for a second, then opens his mouth. 
"Do... do you want me to do it again?"
 Before he can stop himself Brett nods once more.