Phantom

33.

Eddy

“I swear, Brett, I'm not running off,” Eddy groaned as he was tugged by the cuff to the kitchen so he could keep Brett company while he was having breakfast. It was getting rather annoying at this point being tied up all the time. He did guess he deserved it for running off like that, though.

“I know, I know I just… For safety…” Brett mumbled quietly as he locked him to the chair he had pushed Eddy down on. Eddy just did what he wanted, not really sure what else to do about it. Appearently, he could only pass through things while insanely drunk, which was rather impractical, honestly.

“Do you want any breakfast?” Brett asked as he looked in his fridge, rummaging to find anything edible.

“You don't have to cook for me,” Eddy sighed, fiddling with what he could reach of the chain on his cuff out if boredom. “But if you're having coffee, I guess that would be nice.”

Brett started his breakfast, setting the coffee to brew while he grabbed a frying pan to make eggs. Eddy couldn't help but stare as Brett cooked breakfast for himself. He couldn't peel his eyes off the sight of his muscles moving, the light flex of his arm, the hint of red on his cheeks…

“Do you want to be ‘just friends’, Brett?” he blurted out before his brain had processed his own question. The idea of never getting to be with Brett like that again hurt, which was rather unusual as he was, well, dead. “Is that why you suggested that earlier?”

Brett froze for a moment, staring down into the frying pan. Had Eddy had a heartbeat, it would have sped up from the amount of nerves that built up.

“I… I don’t want to push you into doing something you clearly don't want,” Brett said quietly before flipping his eggs. “I love you, but if you want to be just friends then… “

“I love you too, Brett,” Eddy sighed, looking down at the tabletop littered with all kinds of sheet music and notes and a few dirty dishes. “I just don't feel like I deserve you since I'm, you know, dead?”

“If you want me, Eddy, please don't let that come in the way.”

Eddy tugged against the cuffs, wanting to hug Brett. A huge sigh of frustration came instead as he realized he couldn't get anywhere.

“I do want you,” he said instead, meeting Brett's warm brown eyes, feeling bad that all Brett got back was dead, cold ones.

“Well, I want you too so I guess that settles it,” Brett sighed, and turned to put his eggs on a plate. Eddy licked his lip nervously.

“Prove it, then,” Eddy challenged, and Brett didn't look up at him as he sighed, sounding almost disappointed.

“I'm not uncuff… “

“Kiss me.”