Straight

XXIX

What the fuck can he say? He gropes around his brain for the right answer, and maybe it's the fog from last night, but he can't find it. So it takes him way to long to nod slowly, neutrally.
All he knows is he needs to give Eddy his space.
"You didn't? Didn't she want to?" he says quietly.
Eddy swallows once, and looks away to the other wall. Seems to deliberate, then opens his mouth to speak.
"She did. I couldn't." he says hoarsely, defeatedly.
Brett blinks as he tries to process this, but he has no idea how to.
"You... what, did you have too much to drink?" he asks.
I mean, that must be it, right? That must be why? He saw Eddy drink, he knows what too much alcohol can do. Even if, obviously, it didn't work that way for him last night. He glances at the bed in shame, then quickly focuses back on his best friend in the world.
Why couldn't you, Eddy? He's suddenly desperate to know, he needs the truth, and all of it.
"No." Eddy says miserably. "I mean, I had a bit to drink, but that wasn't why." He's half crying now, another tear making its way out of his eye, this time rolling over his cheek. Brett wants to wipe it away, but he sits still, frozen. "Oh God, Brett, can we just leave it like this? Can I just not explain? Just go back to the way we were? I'm so sorry, Brett, I'm fucking everything up."
He sobs once, and Brett unfreezes and puts his hand on his thigh. Something is burning inside of him, something unlike anything he's felt before.
"No." he says quietly, but definitively. "I'm sorry, but I need... I need to know, Eddy."

Eddy looks up at him with a shock, his eyes searching, burning.
"Jesus Christ." he says, almost moans. "Oh, God, Brett. I'm so sorry. Do you know already? I... fuck."
He seems to be looking around, searching, he seems desperate. And then he puts his hand on top of Brett's on his thigh and leaves it there.
"I didn't sleep with her because of you, alright?" he whispers. "Because of... what we've been doing. And because of how I feel, now."
The world stops spinning and for a second Brett thinks he may hurl again.
Because of how Eddy feels, now? What is he saying? A glimmer of hope starts building in him, but he can't have that, he really can't. That hope has the potential to crush him forever.
"B... because of how you feel, now?" he says hoarsely.
Eddy nods and more tears fall down his cheeks.
"I'm so sorry." he says quietly. "I've... I've fallen for you. I don't know... I can't help it, Brett. I'm so sorry. It happened so quickly. I'm so sorry. I... I'll try. Just... please... don't give up on me."

Brett knows his mouth falls open, but he's frozen solid, the couch his glacier, as the shock grips him, as the glimmer of hope turns into a tornado that starts crashing around his inside. Did Eddy really just say what he said? Tears are coming, he can feel them, and he pushes them down.
No. Eddy can't see him cry. He can't.
And he needs to know. He grips Eddy's hand hard.
"Do you mean what you're saying, Eddy? Do you really mean it?"
Eddy blinks at him through watery eyes.
"Yeah. I mean it. I'm sorry."
He can't, he can't. Is this real? Years and years of longing, of loving crash through his head, and his eyes swell up with tears. He looks up at Eddy, who is staring at him, clearly waiting for him to say something, but there's nothing to be said. A sob escapes him, then another one, and before he knows it the wailing he's tried to avoid all day begins.
"Bretty." Eddy whispers as he puts his hand on Brett's shoulder and squeezes it sweetly. "Talk to me, please. Bretty. Why are you crying?