soda water

coffee date

confusion, doubt, and sneaky glances over breakfast

Brett woke up with his head pounding. "Oh good morning, princess, nice of you to finally wake up," says Eddy from the small table in their room. Brett looks around groggily, squinting at the blob he presumes is Eddy with a laptop in front of him.

"Dude, how much did I drink last night?" Eddy just shrugs, "I don't know, I left some ibuprofen right there if you need it though." Eddy looks away and goes back to staring at the laptop. "I can make some coffee for you too, if you want."

"Sure man, thanks," Brett says reaching over to the nightstand, then realizes.

This isn't his bed.

He lays back down and tries to remember what happened last night, hands grasping at his head. Fuzzy images come to mind, and then he remembers the soft sensation of lips against his, Eddy's face under his fingers. He feels heat rising up to his face, gets up again to take an ibuprofen, then lets his body fall back down on the mattress.

He's so screwed. He is so, so screwed.

Well, Eddy was asleep by then right? Maybe he didn't feel it... but then again, Brett was also a drunk mess and oh boy, he better not have just ruined this. His friendship with Eddy is too important. It's more important than his puny little feelings. Why did he have to drink so much of whatever he drank last night...

"Here's your coffee, Your Highness," says Eddy from beside the bed, and Brett gets up to take the warm cup, disregarding the small contact of their fingers, relishing the warmth now seeping through his cold hands. He mumbles a small thanks, which Eddy acknowledges with a smile and an eye roll, turning around to go back to the table.

Eddy was in the middle of an email to one of their colleagues about reserving the next destination's venue, but now his mind is distracted by a Brett Yang staring moodily into space. As he tries to conjure words for the message, thoughts about last night comes back, and all he really feels is confusion at this point.

Was that just a drunken mistake? Brett probably doesn't even remember, and now he's being all weird thinking about his best friend's lips against his. Eddy subconsciously puts his hand over his mouth and sighs, bringing his coffee to his own lips.

There is that thing about drunken actions being sober thoughts or some crap. But still, why now of all times? Eddy sneaks a glance at his friend of almost 15 years now, who is just there on his bed slurping on coffee he made, now checking his phone. Dammit, the email, gotta finish it.

Is Brett coherent enough to help with booking plane tickets? Tsk, shouldn't have let him drink that much last night, that party animal. Brett takes a seat at the table and Eddy has to keep himself from looking up. He seems to have perked up a bit more now.

After a few moments of keyboard clacking sounds and slurps of coffee-drinking, "Wanna just take the day off?" Eddy looks at Brett now, he looks so tired but dammit why does he have to be so stupid cute with his hair still a mess and some pink slightly dusting his nose. Eddy sighs again, "I'll do some work for the morning then we can chill rest of the day, yeah?" Brett makes a small noise in affirmation and continues to drink his coffee.

Brett is luckily a master of the deadpan expression, but it's only a matter of time until his best friend would catch on that something's off... or he would choose to ignore it himself to not damage their friendship. But then again, they always talk about whatever bothers them, that's why they've stayed this strong all these years.

Brett's eyes stray to his friend, taking note of how Eddy's forehead creases in focus, and then he thinks back to last night again. He looks down at Eddy's lips then looks away quickly, totally not thinking about how awesome it would be to just feel them again.