Club - a Breddy Fanfic.

4) Home (Brett)

When Brett walks into the front door of his house he can already hear his roommates inside. Apparently all 3 went home after Brett left. He kicks his shoes off and hangs his coat up.
The hallway is dark but there is some light flooding underneath the door to the living room. He can still see enough not to trip over the rubbish they always have lying around in their small entrance. They really should fix that and throw half off this stuff out. But who wants to spend time on chores and redecorating when you can also practice or play games?

When he opens the door to the living room he squints against the bright light. He braces himself for what inevitably will come.
One moment of silence and there it is.
A wall of noise meets him.

"You lucky dog!!!" Peter looks up at him with some envy in his voice. Peter always thinks he's the smartest of the pack and knows best, but obviously doesn't. He is honest though. Brutally honest sometimes, but not in a contemptuous way. You've got to love him for it.

"And how did it go this time, you horny bastard?!" Count on Vincent to use the word horny in every sentence when he has some alcohol in his blood. No way he would say anything else. Vincent, a boyish looking fellow with red short hair, is the loudest of the friend group. Not too bright though, but also definitely not stupid. And he has a heart of gold.

"This one was very pretty. Nice fuck, was it?" Mason, a muscular fellow Brett has known since forever, his best friend and owner of golden curls, also likes them dark-haired. Preferably dark-skinned too.

Brett rolls his eyes. "Come on you guys!"
He scratches the back of his head near his neck.
"It was all right. Almost got caught by her father. Had to sneak out the window. Again."

The boys laugh their heads off. Vincent even rolls from the couch to the ground, holding his belly.

"Don't laugh! I almost broke my legs jumping off that roof. And I had to walk home, in the freezing cold, because I forgot my bus pass." he continues to whine, without getting any sympathy from his fellows.

"But you did get laid. You have no right to complain!" Peter smirks.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Give me a beer. What are you watching anyway."

The roommates try to tell him all at once they've decided to have a movie marathon with the worst movies they could find. Every title being even worse than the other.
It turns out that it's Peter's turn this week to order pizza, which of course he ordered as he left the club, because what is a movie night without pizza? It will arrive shortly apparently, so Brett's just in time.

A few trays of beer have already been emptied. The mood is carefree and bubbly. They are distracted enough now to leave Brett alone. He listens to them bickering and bantering, quietly drinking his beer. He makes some funny remarks once in a while to make his presence count.
The alcohol is doing him good.
He doesn't want to think.
He doesn't want to feel.
But he can't stop all of it.

I love these guys.
But fuck, my life is so shallow.
He sighs.
I wish I would find some meaning in it.
I desperately want something that counts.

A few hours later Brett is still sitting on the couch drinking another beer as the last terrible movie winds down. Mason is the only one left besides him, the others have already crashed out on their beds. He looks at Brett and bobs his head up once.

"You okay mate?"

Brett looks sideways at him. "Yeah. Why you ask?"

"You're more quiet than usual." he remarks.
Damn perceptive bastard.
Brett sighs.

"It's all so meaningless Mason. I'm tired. So tired of it all."

Mason nods as if he understands.
"You know Brett... You have to find yourself a real partner again. You're fooling around too much. This promiscuous attitude doesn't sit well with you. You're not like that. I know it has been necessary for a while, even good and maybe life saving, but maybe it's time to move on. Don't you think?"
Mason knows him too well.

"Like that's so easy! And how do you think I should do that?" Brett frowns. "They always throw themselves at me. But they only want me for a one night. I don't want to complain, because I love a good fuck, but I would like... I don't know... more. Depth. Love? I don't even know if I'm able to love again. That I can move on from being this ruthless, heartless shit who fucks whoever he wants without conscience or remorse. I know this works. I'm good at it too. I don't even know if I can make 'love' work for me. If I'm ready for it. God, that sounds so stupid."

"No, it doesn't. Don't we all want love in our lives? So why wouldn't you? And how long has it been now? Almost 3 years. You've had time to heal some of the scars made. Go find out if it's enough." He lays a hand on Brett's leg to ground him, to get him to look at him. "But Brett, for Gods sake, don't worry so much. It'll be okay. Eventually. It'll happen when you least expect it. Open your heart. Just you wait and see."
Mason looks serious. He means what he says.
Brett is not sure if he believes him, but he is grateful for his honest words.

"Maybe. I don't know. I'm going to hit the sack too, before I start crying. Good night Mason."

"You know your tears don't scare me, right? You can let them flow, if that's what you need. Sleep tight."

Mason is always there for him. Brett smiles a weak smile at him, waves his hand and walks to his room leaving Mason with the ending of the last dreadful movie and closes the door of his room behind him.
Sleep.
That'll make everything better.
Tomorrow there will be another day.