distraction: you

chapter twenty

brett feels as if he's flying a lot, nowadays.

ever since the switch, he's been driving himself further and higher when it comes to his musicality and his skill. he's long understood that the role of a soloist demands more from a musician, but he's never thought about actually getting that role ever. it's his lifelong dream, sure, but it's always been a distant kind of one. now that he'd gotten the role, brett had spent more than a few frenzied hours of practice time to make sure he doesn't embarrass himself in front of the whole orchestra, not to mention the director and eddy freaking chen, who had thrown him up here in the first place.

but the funny thing is, come rehearsals—he actually doesn't mess up.

he's doing good, he's doing great, and so maybe it's that little boost of courage burning a bonfire flame in him that spurs brett on to ask eddy out to the dinner he's promised him from the start.

okay, first of all: it's technically not a date. a date involves participants who have the potential to be romantically involved over the course of their engagement with each other, or whatever. brett's pretty engaged with eddy, he supposes, but romantic involvement? he might as well sprout wings and fly before that ever happens, any wishful thinking on his part aside.

and really, there's a whole mountain of wishful thinking on his part, to be honest. still—eddy chen is miles above brett yang's league. he's got an honest-to-god growing fanbase within the orchestra, for crying out loud; ever since eddy had landed on the concertmaster's chair, he's started courting everyone's favor to try and turn his reputation back around, and it's somehow working. people are finally noticing what brett's been seeing in his friend all along, and wow, it shouldn't feel this good and this painful to see it happening before his very eyes, but it somehow does, and it's weird.

brett's not an idiot, though; he's self-aware about his own feelings, so he knows why. it's just that—well. okay, so maybe he is an idiot.

nevertheless, he does take his friend to dinner, because he had promised, and brett yang is not one to go back on his promises, no matter the ache that sparks up in his chest, the longing behind his ribcage.

if he's gotten a little more melancholic nowadays, then it's probably just all for the best: at least his playing's getting better. brahms could use a little more heartsick.

• • •

so they go on that dinner—which is basically just a simple meal at the local 90's diner, because brett is still kinda broke, and he is not letting his companion pay a single cent for the food, no thank you, eddy—and it feels natural, and fun, and not at all like a date, shut up brain.

upon taking their order, the waitress immediately mistakes it as such, though. brett wants to sink into the ground, but the floor remains irritatingly solid. damn it.

"oh—no, i, uh," he sneaks a look at the man sitting opposite him who's smirking like it doesn't faze him in the slightest, and ouch, no, wait, that hurts, "we're not together together."

"don't believe him, ma'am; he's just shy," interjects eddy, grabbing his hand out of nowhere and entwining their fingers together, their pinkies interlocked, and what the hell—

scratch that thing about having a crush on eddy chen. brett is going to kill him.

he levels a flustered glare in his friend's direction and tries to pull his hand away, to no avail; eddy's grip is firm. out of the corner of his eye, he notices the waitress is watching them with barely-concealed amusement. "it's alright, boys," she tells them with a motherly gaze, "you don't have to hide it. you can still avail of the couple's freebie, too! i'll just jot that down, shall i?"

oh. so that's what this is all about. brett stares at the woman's retreating figure as eddy gently disentangles their hands. "what, didn't you see the sign?" eddy points towards the aforementioned poster. "i'm sorry, though, if that was too much for you. should've asked beforehand." he pouts, and brett is half-tempted to sue him for misconduct in public. that face is, again, illegal. "at least i got us that coffee cake for free! i mean—didn't you say you liked coffee? not as much as bubble tea, i know, but close. i just thought you'd enjoy it." 

it's sad that eddy's words both warm his heart and strangle it. brett's too tired to fight the wave of emotion sweeping over him, and so he lets it. "yeah, thanks, man. smart thinking."

eddy beams, and yes, brett's definitely an idiot, but not as much as the object of his affections.

• • •

the other man offers to walk him home again.

"that was great," eddy pats his belly as they stroll side by side down the sidewalk, under the lowlight of the streetlamps. "thanks, man. my stomach and i appreciate you."

"no problem," brett laughs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "it'll be your turn next time, don't forget. i expect fancier stuff from you."

"huh? excusez-moi?" the taller violinist places a hand over his chest, gasping exaggeratedly. "did you forget you owe me for the little favor i did? oh, what little compassion i receive from—"

brett playfully shoves at eddy's shoulder, receiving a soft jab to the gut in retaliation. "low blow, dude!"

"i was kidding!"

"it sounded pretty sincere," he replies, smothering his laughs with a hand. eddy smiles down at him, stars twinkling above like a halo around his head, and god, he's so thankful he's met eddy chen. "you never really told me why you did that."

"didn't i? i'm pretty sure i did."

"yeah, but that answer was so opaque, i might as well be talking to a wall."

eddy slings his arm around his shoulder again, as easy as pie, just as they round the corner to his apartment block, and brett's just about ready to combust. who ever said this man was an ice prince? he's so comfortably tactile, like he's been touch-starved or something. "i figured i'd correct a mistake, really. i thought i'd do well as the soloist, but it turns out you're more worthy of that position. so i asked the director to switch us up, and he agreed."

brett—doesn't even know what to say to that. "even this late into the concert season?"

"never let it be said that i am not an opportunist." they reach the entryway, and this time, eddy helps brett out in opening the jammed door. once it gives way, the taller man continues his spiel. "case in point: tonight. thank you for your time, your majesty." eddy sweeps his hand down, bends in a low gentleman's bow before straightening up with a grin. "i'll bring you a proper feast next time. see you tomorrow, hey?" he salutes his friend, and then walks away into the night. 

brett closes the door, stands silently for a moment, then turns around and slumps down against the wood.

it takes a few more minutes to get his heart steadily beating in time again.