Straight

XXVI

He's made his way home somehow, even though by the end he can barely walk straight. And he definitely can't think straight, which is fine by him. He bursts through the door and grins at the place where Eddy pushed him against the wall, where he made him come.
"Yeah, fuck that." he slurs as he runs his hand along the wall to keep himself steady. He crashes down on Eddy's side of the bed without even bothering to take his clothes off.
Fuck that, too. He's asleep before he can think anything else.

"Bretty." Eddy says softly. He's running his hands over Brett's belly through his t-shirt gently, then his fingers snake underneath the shirt and rub the skin. Brett's dick swells to capacity and he pants.
"Oh, Eddy."
Eddy moves closer, closer, and touches his lips to Brett's. They're soft, so soft that they're basically silk. Warm, luscious silk. He opens his mouth and allows Eddy's tongue in.
See? He knew he'd be good at this. So good he could come just from this beautiful kiss. He turns his tongue against Eddy's, and it's perfection. Nothing has ever fit better in the world.
He knows his coming, but still Eddy's hand on his jeans makes him groan, hard. Eddy's hand cups him and rubs him once, twice, and that's it, he's falling, he's coming, pulsing again and again as he kisses his love."

He wakes up with a shock. Oh, fuck, it's light already, oh, fuck, you're kidding me, he's gone and come in his sleep.
He moves and groans. His head is killing him, and he leans back miserably. A little inventory tells him he's well and truly fucked up. Sperm is everywhere, in his boxers and the jeans he's still wearing. His head kills, his stomach feels like crap.
And he'll need to get up, because he'll be late, one look at the clock tells him. He winces at the light and swings his legs over the side of the bed.
Yeah, he'll need a shower, whatever happens.

He gets up and grunts. Oh, shit, he's so nauseous that for a moment he thinks he'll hurl, but no. He closes his eyes to get used to the splitting headache. Painkillers will have to wait, if he drinks now, that's it, he's throwing up. He patters slowly to the shower, strips his dirty clothes off. He'll have to put those in the wash. Then he showers on the double. The hot water flows over him, but it brings no relief.
Oh God, how is he going to face today? How the fuck is he going to be upbeat? He needs to get over this, he needs to be happy for Eddy, who has finally lost his virginity last night. He needs to.

He manages to take two Advil with the smallest amount of water possible, and makes his way over to the con.
"Hey, Bretty boy!" Jack leers the second he walks into the cafeteria and makes his way over to the table in the back. He winces at the harsh sound and looks up at him miserably.
"Yeah, I'm sure you're feeling that one." Jack grins.
"Fuck you, Jack." he replies. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."
He may be talking to Jack, but his eyes are on the entrance, and suddenly his heart flutters erratically. Eddy is there, with Jill. He smiles at her as she touches his hand and rushes towards the stairs, probably to her lesson.
And he can't, he just can't. He can't face being excited for him, he can't fake this happiness. He turns and looks at Jack before Eddy's eyes can find his. 
"Man, my head kills." he says honestly. Jack nods. And by the time Brett looks up again, Eddy is walking up the stairs towards the practice rooms.